“You know what this town needs?” Tilly asked.
Loren tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “An enema?”
“Besides that. You know, if you threaten Gotham’s water supply, I’m going to start worrying about you.”
Loren shrugged.
“What I was going to say is I wish this town had drive-through margarita stands. Did you know that’s an actual thing in Louisiana?”
“Those are daiquiri stands, Tilly.”
“Oh. I prefer margaritas, if I’m having something.”
Loren glanced over at her. “Maybe we need to make a stop at the liquor store on the way home.”
“One of us needs to stay a responsible adult tonight.”
“And that would be me.”
“So says the woman threatening Gotham’s water supply.”
Loren smiled. “We haven’t watched Batman in a long time.”
“Is KC too young to watch it?”
“Uh, yeah. She needs to be at least ten.”
“Oops.”
“What’d you do?”
“Ten? Really?”
Loren snorted. “Yeah. Maybe a little older. Why? What’d you do? Fess up.”
Tilly snickered. Finally, something to laugh about. “I might or might not have let Laurel watch it one night when I was babysitting her. Three times in a row. To the point she was quoting the movie with me.”
“Tilly, holy crap, she’s barely eight!”
“I know, right? See? I need you, a responsible adult, to supervise me.”
“Holy crap,” Loren muttered. “You’ve got that straight. No wonder Leo is questioning if she’ll grow up to be a super-villain. You’ve been coaching her.”
“I have fun watching her. Sushi and apocalypse. Hey, that sounds like a good name for a punk-rock band.”
* * * *
Cris had to finish up a couple of things before he could leave, but with the traffic he knew it wouldn’t make any difference. Landry headed home while Cris took care of his last tasks.
Sure enough, when he checked his Waze app, the roads were clogged. Instead of getting stuck on the freeway, he opted to go back roads. It wouldn’t save him any time, but at least it would feel like he was making progress.
He couldn’t stomach just sitting in a car waiting for traffic to thin. Landry had far more patience for that than he did.
It was nearly eight by the time he’d arrived home. Tilly was already showered, collared, and dressed in nothing but a T-shirt, curled up on the couch with her head in Landry’s lap.
“We left you a plate in the microwave, love,” Landry said, motioning him in for a kiss.
“How’d you make it home so fast?”
“Oh, I only arrived about twenty minutes ago.”
Come to think of it, he was still dressed in work clothes. “Oh.”
“I waited to shower until you got home.”
“Thanks.”
Cris checked the plate—meatloaf, yum!—and carried it and a glass of water out to the living room.
“Where’s Loren?”
“Here,” she said, emerging from the baby’s room with the infant. “She just had a bottle and a bath and clean PJs, so she’ll be coasting back to dream land soon.”
Cris set his plate on the table and pulled out his phone to take pictures of her with the baby. He wanted to document it all. Every last bit of it. They’d missed the first two weeks of her life, her birth.
After pictures, he switched to video mode. “This is Aunt Loren holding little Katie,” he said, choking back his tears. “Our beautiful little girl.” She had a shock of dark hair and green eyes and he was already plotting the demise of any boyfriends who tried to date her before she was thirty.
Landry was suddenly there, behind him, one arm slipping around Cris, the other reaching over to stop the recording. He took the phone from Cris and set it on the table, then turned him and hugged him.
“Let it out, love.”
At some point, Loren quietly left the room with the baby while Tilly stood and put her arms around Cris from behind, her head resting against his back. He sobbed, crying, the emotional garbage finally having festered enough to claw its way to the surface past his iron fist of self-control.
Eventually, he let Landry guide him over to the couch. Tilly brought him tissues, and Landry went to nuke his plate of food.
Tilly curled up next to him on the couch and rested her head against his hip, one hand curled over his thigh. When Landry returned with Cris’ food, he sat on his other side, an arm draped around Cris’ shoulders.
“You need to eat,” Landry said. “Then we’ll all retire for the evening.”
Cris numbly nodded. He barely tasted what he ate and when he finished, Landry took his plate for him and put it in the dishwasher. Returning to the couch, Landry held his hands out to them. “Come along, pets. Let’s go.”
He and Tilly reached up and let Landry lead them back to their bedroom.
* * * *
Tilly had finished her budget analysis while Loren had fixed dinner for her. So by the time her men had arrived home, she was ready to do nothing more than curl up with them and let her brain downshift into neutral.
Yes, she’d had more difficult weeks in her life, but this one had quickly nudged its way into the top ten, for sure.
It could always be worse.
That was something she repeated to herself. Easier thought than absorbed, however.
No matter how she tried, she couldn’t evict her final image of Sofia from her mind, of the woman in handcuffs, being led away.
Never to return.
The way she’d looked back at the baby one last time.
She wasn’t supposed to die. She was supposed to get her shit together after learning a damned hard lesson, work her ass off to earn Tilly’s respect and trust, and then be able to if not raise her daughter, at least be an active part of her life under Tilly’s careful supervision.
She never really wanted the woman gone.
Tilly knew she would carry that guilt for the rest of her life.
Cris hurt, too. Not just because Sofia was his cousin, but because he felt responsible for the custody battle. Landry had told her that much upon his return home. She’d thought it odd that he hadn’t changed clothes right away, gotten comfortable as was his usual routine, but then when he led them to the bedroom, she understood the plan.
He was going to give Cris a little TLC first.
With the bedroom door shut behind them, Landry turned to them. “All right pets, get naked. Tilly, take your collar off. Group shower.”
She’d already had a quick shower when she got home, but she didn’t argue. She caught her revving mind, forced it into neutral again, and followed Landry’s orders.
It was all she wanted to do.
Chapter Twenty
Landry worried more about Cris at this point than he did Tilly. He’d been texting with Loren all day about Tilly. While she was under a lot of stress, obviously, she seemed to be slowly adjusting.
Cris, he suspected, neared breaking. While it wouldn’t take them long to fully convince Tilly she was in no way responsible for the current series of events, Cris would need some stronger convincing.
Technically, Cris was to blame for bringing the custody battle about. Not deliberately, and Landry wouldn’t fault him for it. He hadn’t meant to cause it, had no reasonable reason to believe it would have triggered one.
Although reasonable wasn’t exactly in the top fifty list of words Landry would use to describe the Guerrero family in general.
After their shower, where Landry took time to soap both his pets up—teasing them in the process—Landry helped them dry off before he put their leather collars on them again and led them, naked, to the bed.
“Over the end, side by side, feet on the floor,” he ordered as he headed for the closet.
They obeyed, without hesitation.
He returned with the cane. Tilly wasn’t fond of the cane, but for today he
would use it on her, albeit not nearly as severely as he’d use it on Cris.
Landry wasted no time. He pinned Cris to the bed by the collar, his left hand against the back of Cris’ neck. “I think my boy needs a long, hard cry,” he said. “You’ve tried to stay too strong for too long and forgot you can lean on both of us.” That said, he immediately took the first stroke.
Cris winced, but he didn’t cry out.
After the fifth stroke, even harder than the others, Cris fisted the sheets.
Landry’s heart soared when Tilly reached over and laced fingers with Cris, shifting positions to nuzzle her head close to his.
Good.
He stepped up the pace and strength of the strokes, raising angry red welts on the man’s flesh until, finally, he saw the first shudders shake Cris’ body.
He eased up, going faster but far lighter, barely stingy. It didn’t matter. Now that the wall had been breached, Cris was crying, pouring out his emotional pain as the physical pain set in.
Something Landry had been sadly used to in the days and weeks following the death of Cris’ father.
Something Tilly hadn’t had to witness with Cris.
Landry didn’t know how many strokes he gave Cris before he finally stopped, stroking his hand over the lines marking Cris’ ass and upper thighs. It took several more minutes until Cris’ sobs finally eased and his breathing settled into a deep, regular rhythm.
“Such a good boy,” Landry said. “And now, for my Redbird.”
She tensed, but when she realized he wasn’t going to give her the caning Cris had taken, she relaxed into it. Now Cris nuzzled her, squeezed her hand as Landry adjusted his strokes until she finally started crying.
Landry immediately set the cane aside and folded his body over hers, lacing his fingers through her other hand and waiting her out.
Once she, too, had settled, Landry urged them up onto the bed and had her face Cris.
He switched to French. “Would you like to fuck our beautiful Redbird, boy?”
Cris was still deep in subspace. “Yes, Master. Please.”
“Redbird, would you like to come with my boy’s cock fucking you?”
“Yes, Sir. Please.”
“Then you’d better come for me while he does.” He reached around her with one arm while she lay cradled in his other. As Cris slid his cock into her, Landry found her clit and started playing with it. “Come for me, my sweet pets. Let me hear you both come for me…now.”
Maybe it was mean to make Cris come that quickly, but he’d let Cris have her again later, if he was up for it.
Landry nipped the side of Tilly’s neck, drawing an even louder moan from her while Cris frantically fucked her, gasping as he filled her pussy with a load.
They lay there catching their breath as Landry chuckled. “My good pets,” he said in English. “So sweet.” When Cris finally moved, Landry rolled Tilly onto her back and pinned her to the bed with his body as he slid inside her.
“One more for me, then,” he said in French. “Squeeze my cock, Redbird.”
* * * *
The feel of her sore ass rubbing against the bed only made the second orgasm that much better. Landry’s trigger overruled her brain and forced her body into compliance.
Her back arched as he fucked her hard, driving her up the bed with the force of his strokes. She knew he wouldn’t last long as fast and hard as he was going, but she didn’t care.
It felt goood. He had a grinding, rocking motion that was so different from the way Cris fucked her in this position, one that rubbed against the full length of her clit and bored straight into her nervous system at the bottom of each thrust.
She forced herself to keep her eyes open and stare up into Landry’s handsome green gaze. Yes, this man wasn’t just her husband, but the other half of her heart where Cris also resided.
This was the closest she’d ever been to heaven in her life before Katie’s arrival.
And he sure could make her call out to god.
She was still coming when he exploded, his cock twitching and filling her, adding another load to her pussy and making the good kind of mess.
She’d barely caught her breath from that when Landry, still speaking French, ordered Cris to get hard.
Didn’t take much, the man’s body well used to Landry’s sadistic sadism, having trained Cris to enjoy it with sex.
Before she realized it, Landry had rolled off her and Cris was back, furiously kissing and fucking her as Landry lay there watching, smiling, amused.
Aaaand then he triggered her again and her world exploded.
By the time Landry finally allowed them to go to sleep, Tilly could barely remember her own name, much less what she’d been worried about earlier.
And that was certainly the good kind of problem to have for a change.
Chapter Twenty-One
By Wednesday, the coroner’s office had released Sofia’s body and it was picked up by the funeral home Dale had arranged. Wednesday afternoon, Loren stayed behind at the condo with Katie while Landry, Tilly, and Cris went to pick out an urn before going to the closing on the new condo.
Landry had left the final decision up to Cris. When Sofia had made her will last week with Dale, she’d only specified she wanted to be cremated, not what was to be done with her remains after that.
When Cris asked Tilly, she gave her opinion. “I say we pick a nice urn and keep her until Katie is old enough to understand and decide. It should be her final decision. At least Sofia will be with us, the people who remotely gave a damn about her.”
He nodded, looking to Landry for the final call despite the man having already told Cris to decide.
“If that’s what you want, love, I’m fine with it,” Landry told him.
It took Cris nearly thirty minutes to decide on a wooden box with a pretty geometric pattern carved in it. Dark cherry wood, the design was stained black.
They would have her remains back by Monday.
Thursday morning, Tilly didn’t even want to crawl out of bed and it took Loren, Cris, and Landry working together to talk her into facing the day.
More entertainment blogs and channels had picked up the story of the parking lot dust-up and custody order. When Tilly checked her phone, she found her business e-mail account deluged with requests for interviews.
She asked Landry for a ruling on how to handle it, knowing her temper might get the better of her.
He considered it for a moment. “Frankly? I say you put out a boilerplate press release statement. A distant family member named the three of us guardians of her child, and she met with a questionable fate while in the corrections system. The real story is the lack of attention paid to the tragedy of why was a woman, whose probation for a non-violent crime was senselessly revoked to serve the needs of police officers looking to make a high-profile case, killed while in custody and awaiting a hearing? A new mother, and a domestic abuse victim, no less. A woman trying to get her life together, who’d reached out to us for help with a new start, who escaped a violent situation. It’s a horrible statement about the quality of care inmates receive.”
Her jaw dropped. “Damn,” she said, shocked. “You’re amazing.”
He leaned in and kissed her. “Control the message, pet. Practice what our politicians are so good at. Turn the story around on them, and request that we ask for privacy at this time as we focus our energy on the infant and mourning our loss.”
Lor shook her head, amused. “You should have gone into PR, Lan. Seriously. She’s right—you are amazing.”
“I considered it, and law, and realized both were far too distasteful for my liking. No offense intended toward Ross or our dear friend, Ed. Or our attorney here in LA.”
“None taken,” Loren said. “Why do you think Ross practices IP law and not criminal or personal law? He didn’t want to deal with criminal or divorce cases.”
They stopped by the pediatrician’s office first for Katie’s appointment.
D
r. Rahling turned to Loren. “Are you the birth mom?”
She laughed, long and hard, until Tilly had to explain no, Loren was just her snarky best friend who’d flown out to help and give moral support.
“Ah, sorry about that,” he said to Loren. Then, to Tilly, “Any concerns?”
“No,” Tilly said. “Nothing beyond what we discussed last week.”
“Physically,” Loren said.
“Beg pardon?” Dr. Rahling asked.
“Sorry,” Loren said. “We got some bad news on Monday.”
“Oh?”
Tilly filled him in. She’d forgotten Sofia had still been free when she’d brought the baby in last week.
“I’m so sorry,” the doctor said, staring at the baby. “What are your plans for her now?”
“We’re going to formally adopt her,” Tilly said. “The mother’s family is trying to file a motion for custody, but Sofia specifically told the judge at the hearing that she didn’t want any of them to have custody. Our attorney is very hopeful that we should win this.”
He nodded. “Good. I’m glad she’s not going to be displaced again.”
Loren snorted. “Good luck trying to get that baby away from her.”
After the examination, Tilly wasn’t sure if she or the doctor was more pleased by the baby having gained over a pound while in their care.
“Keep it up,” he told her. “I’ll see you back in a week.”
“What did her blood work show?” Tilly asked.
“Good point.” He flipped through her chart and scanned the test results while Tilly’s imagination spun out a thousand horrific scenarios in the space of a breath.
“Looks normal,” he said as she breathed a sigh of relief. “And you’ll be happy to hear there’s no sign of drugs in her system, either.”
“Thank god.”
Loren was busy getting the baby dressed while the doctor went over a few last things with Tilly. “Next Thursday, then,” Dr. Rahling said. “I’m thinking after that, as long as she’s still gaining weight and there are no other problems, we’ll move to a monthly schedule until she’s six months old. I’ll have my nurse make you a copy of the height and weight chart so you can check her progress and note if there are any delays. After that, barring any illnesses, we’ll put her on a normal infant schedule.”
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