by Dani Wyatt
“I can’t help it. Besides, I can’t deliver you to Bruce in this condition. He’ll never let me live it down. Here.” He pulls a bottle of water from his back pocket, raises it and puts it in front of my nose. “Drink. I’m taking you home.”
“No,” I whine. “I want to see her. Let’s go.” I press my palms into his chest, backing him out of the stall as a tall, southern Belle type pushes through the door to the ladies’ room and nearly loses her french tips when she sees the force that is Beckett looming before her.
“’Cuse us.” Beckett gives her his most disarming smile and her eyes light on his scars, then dart to me trying to be sure there is nothing nefarious going on. “We’re done.”
“You okay?” she whispers to me as if he can’t hear. Her eyes now glued to the left side of Beckett’s face.
“Babe, you okay? Are we done?” I can hear the playful lilt in his voice, but from anyone else’s ears, he’s profoundly intimidating. I can see the woman take a breath in and hold.
“I’m fine,” I cough out.
The woman drops her eyes from Beckett and settles them intently on me. Beck and I begin moving forward when the Texas prom queen hits us again.
“Your sister,” she starts with a sympathetic smile, “or your mother—I’ve never seen anyone with hair like yours. Yours is beautiful but you two sure do still look alike. Can’t be mistaken for strangers, I’m sure.”
Beck and I are almost to the door when we turn back toward her and I feel my entire body turn cold.
“Excuse me?” I manage.
“I’m sorry. I know whatever is going on must be bad.” She snaps a piece of gum and grins. “We are in a police station, right? I’m sorry. But, she’s making things harder on herself, isn’t she? It took three of them to get her inside.”
The woman smiles and tips her head, watching me, gauging my reaction.
Before I decide what to say, Beckett’s hand is around my upper arm and we are in the hallway. The ladies’ room is close to the front of the station and as soon as we are outside the confines of the room, I can hear Holly’s voice echoing down the cinderblock walls.
“We got a call from CPS offices about a disturbance. Guess who we found?” Northrup leads us down a hallway as my heart beats hard against my chest.
Beckett
It's the second time in my life that I've considered hitting a woman. Both times that woman has been Holly.
The silence in the eight by eight-foot room hurts my ears, but I keep the peace even as my fists ball.
“No!” Holly’s scratchy, indignant voice pushes me to my limit. “I never said that. I always wanted you. And your brother.”
“I was there when you said it.” Promise is cold rolled steel staring down the woman that could be her own reflection in some fucked up carnival mirror.
A chill creeps down my spine as I look back and forth between them. Even the little mannerisms, like when Promise crinkles up her nose, and the way her hand flutters at her neck when she’s nervous are mimicked by this train wreck sitting across the table.
“Well, you heard wrong. Can I have a cigarette?” Holly turns to bark at Northrup, who in turn, raises one eyebrow.
“Ahhh, no.” He shakes his head.
“Then I want to leave. Am I under arrest?”
“No, but you are being questioned. And the more you cooperate, the more likely you will not be under arrest.”
Northrup filled us in before bringing us together.
Holly raised the roof with her boyfriend, Carl, over at CPS. She barged in, demanding to see Jeremy, who, for obvious reasons is no longer in their employ. Holly thought Jeremy would help her find Louis and Jordan.
Promise put her big girl panties on when Northrup asked if she wanted to have some time to speak with her mother. She nodded confidently and she’s been asking Holly some hard questions, all of which the older woman has managed to deflect with noise and bullshit as might have been expected.
“Mom.” Promise glances quickly toward me and I nod, urging her on. I want her to get this shit out, ask whatever she wants even though I expect the answers will provide zero comfort. At a minimum, I hope they will clear up any question around the fact that her mother is a narcissistic piece of shit.
“What?” Holly huffs with righteous indignation. If it wasn’t so sad it would be comical. I smile at this shell of a human and she squirms under my gaze. Her daughter is with me.
“Tell me about Louis. Why didn’t you tell him about Jordan?”
Holly exhales in a puff, leaning back in her chair with an eye roll.
“Because he’s a maniac. He didn’t deserve to know.”
“Why didn’t you press charges when he raped you?” Promise continues.
“Who was going to believe me?” Holly’s eyes narrow at Promise and I fantasize about smacking the smirk off her face. I imagine the rusty wheels turning in her head, writing this story as she goes. It's quite possible she doesn’t even know the difference between truth and fiction.
Her body posture shifts. Holly sits up and points a finger at Northrup who stares back with an amused smile, waiting to see what pile of bullshit Holly has loaded up for his benefit. “He threated to kill me if I told anyone.”
I see from Northrup’s disgusted glance toward the ceiling he isn’t buying her endless line of sewage any more than the rest of us.
“Did you question his sexuality?” Northrup asks.
“Sexuality? What the fuck are you talking about? I didn’t question nothin’. I heard he was a fag, though. I did.” She looks at Northrup as if the information were terribly important. Like he might just nod and say 'ah, I get it.' “He came over, we were talkin’ and then he attacked me. Just like that.” Holly snaps her fingers in the air, then in a split second her demeanor spins and she looks like the cat that just ate the canary. “And he ain’t no gay either. Or, maybe I’m just that good I can turn ‘em back around.”
“You’re lying,” Promise shoots back and slams her hand down on the top of the table.
Northrup and I look at each other with pride.
“I’m not fucking lying.” Holly glares at her daughter. “Besides, what do you care? You never even tried to come find me all these years. I’m your mother.” Holly's voice shakes, like she's about to cry or something. I can't believe she even dares to throw that in there.
Promise’s shoulders straighten as she pulls at a couple of loose threads on the hem of her white silk blouse. I can feel the anger rising off her and I want to scoop her up and carry her out of here, but I must say, I am proud as fuck at how solid she is standing in the face of such pathetic evil.
“You are not my mother. You're just some woman called Holly Henderson. And I don’t believe anything you say.”
“Oh really? Well, aren’t you some big shot? You think I’m scared of you? Of him?” She points at me and I smile. “You married him?” Holly bursts out an evil, humorless laugh. “Aren’t you two a pair? You should be in some sideshow, both of you. You ever make a baby, the circus will be right there to see what kind of headline they can put on—”
Throwing insults at our unborn child sends me over the edge. The halo of darkness starts to form around the room and I’m on my feet. Whoever I was a second ago is gone. I hear myself growl and the chair I was sitting on flies back and smashes into the wall.
“Well, that was fun.” Northrup's eyes are wide as he looks around the room, which appears to have been redecorated by a tornado.
I shake my head, trying to focus. I find Promise. Her eyes are wide too, but I see concern for me, not fear of me.
“Are you alright?” She steps forward, her arms coming around my waist, her eyes studying my face.
“Fuck. I didn’t hurt anyone did I? I didn’t hurt you, right?” I cup her cheeks in my hands, straining to remember and knowing I can’t.
“I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t even hurt her and she deserved it.” Promise hugs me tighter, her face pushing against my chest as my heart
beats triple time.
I glance up at Northrup who is nodding then shaking his head.
“I should arrest you,” he says. “But I won’t, because I wish I could have done what you did.”
“What did I do?”
“Let’s just say, Ms. Henderson won’t be insulting her daughter ever again. In fact, I’m pretty sure she’s decided a one-way bus trip to as-far-away-from-you-as-possible is the best thing for her health.”
“I didn’t hit her did I?” Even when I go dark, I’m sure I wouldn’t hit a woman. But I don’t know. In this case, that bitch crossed so many lines I may just have broken the code.
“No, you didn’t hit her,” Promise says, leaning her head back to look up, her chin pushing in the center of my chest. Her face lights up. “But I did.”
I look at Northrup whose smile turns to a belly laugh.
“I see nothing.” He raises his hands, shaking his head as he leans down to right the overturned chair where Holly had been sitting. “You people are going to get me fired.”
I hold Promise tight. This whole thing is fucked up. I'm not even sure where I am with it any more.
But if there's one thing I know for certain, it's that I can't trust a word Holly says. I need to find someone who knows what's going on here, and who won't lie to me.
Or won't dare.
Beckett
We're back at the loft and I've got Promise tucked back into bed.
She knocked my damn socks off while I watched her with her mother. But afterward when we were walking out, she swayed and leaned into me.
The plan was to take her to Bruce’s for the afternoon while I went and made a surprise house call to Jeremy. But my girl needed me, some chicken soup and a nap.
The clock read almost eleven when we left the station. She’d thrown up everything I’d fed her so far. So I changed the plan, called Bruce and pushed the drop off back a few hours.
“Lay down with me.” She reaches up and snatches at my hand as I turn to walk away with the empty bowl. I fed her a spoonful of soup at a time until the rosy color came back to her beautiful cheeks.
Her eyes are flickering blue pools, set deeper than usual.
“Of course, babe. You have to rest. Try to relax.” I hold onto her hand as I set the bowl on the nightstand. Then I crawl over the covers and sit yself next to her, never releasing her hand for a second.
“No. Get under with me.” She turns her head around, releases my hand and pushes me back, then grabs the white duvet and lifts it, inviting me underneath.
“Babe, it’s nap time.” I can hear the hint of seductress in her voice and that is all it takes to get me off the starting block. I rein it in, but only because she needs rest.
“I know. But you’re warm.” She pouts and my dick is shameless. She says I have my own internal furnace. I love it. She needs me to keep her warm. I want her to need me for everything.
“Uh huh.” I can’t say no to her. Not when she gives me the lip bite, the fluttery eyes and the heavy sigh. It’s her trifecta of superpowers that she uses to get her way.
I manage to kick off my boots before I stuff my legs under the covers. The tingling tension starts in my balls, so I try to think about something else, like doing my taxes. She doesn’t need my horny ass keeping her awake.
“I still can’t believe you smacked your mother.”
“I didn’t smack my mother. I smacked someone named Holly Henderson. She is not my mother. Besides, you couldn’t to do it and she needed it.”
I gather her hair in my hands and sink down into position behind her. The mile-long tresses wind up in a messy ball in my hands, so I press my face into the strands taking a deep breath. Then I gently settle it up on the pillow so I can get my lips on her neck.
“You needed to do it just as bad. I’m so fucking proud of you. You knocked her ass right down where it should be. Didn’t buy into one more word of her bullshit. I could tell she was making ninety percent of that shit up.”
“Yeah. I don’t think Louis raped her. I don’t know what happened, but I’m pretty sure of that part. I’m a little relieved at least about that.” She shifts backwards and I want to engulf her inside me. I also want to have a pussy feast and relieve the ache in my dick by plunging it as deep inside her as possible. “I love laying here with you. I love being in this bed.”
I set my lips on her neck, feeling the warmth, and I close my eyes and revel in how deeply she’s rooted herself into my soul.
“You want to know something?” I whisper, then nibble my way up her neck.
“What?”
“I’d never let a woman into my bed before you.”
“Are you serious?”
“Dead. I honestly don’t even like to think about any women before you, but it’s true. If I was with a woman, it was not in my bed. Ever. With anyone.” I listen to her let out a breath and melt into me before I continue. “Something else I was saving just for you. See? I saved myself for you. At least I saved a lot of things for you and it was worth it. More than worth it. Babe, I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through and everything we’re still going through, but in spite of all that, I’ve never been this happy. Shit, not even happy, fucking joyful. Like my heart learned how to beat because of you. I’m alive and you’re the reason.”
“My mom never gave me any advice worth a darn about men. Or anything else for that matter. But I do remember one thing she used to say . . .” Promise’s voice is silk and I want my mouth on hers. Just laying here together is like a little piece of heaven.
“What’s that?” My hand brushes down the side of her hair, over her shoulder and under the duvet until I feel the sleek warmth of her skin. Sliding my fingers forward, I’m feeling her belly, thinking of what we’ve created together that rests inside her womb. She wriggles as my fingers move over her skin, tickling her.
“She said something like, when you find the right one, everything feels familiar,” she says, placing her warm palms over mine to stop the movement. “Like you’ve been there before. Like you’ve lived a life together before this one. But you left something unfinished, so you’ve both returned to finish it. That’s how you feel. From the minute I saw you at Windfield, I felt that sense of ease. I talked to you more in those few days than I’d talked to anyone else in a year. You just felt familiar. Like home. Not that I knew what home felt like before you, but when I finally felt that sensation, I knew. It makes me wonder if she must have loved someone once. It's a little bit sad, I guess.”
“Just in case you didn’t realize, I’m never letting you go. You’re mine and nothing will ever change that. Nothing.”
My hand snakes around until I’ve got the weight of her breast in my palm. I put her to bed naked, because that’s how I like it and so does she. She is utterly available to me and even as caveman as it sounds, I love the feeling of dominion I have over her.
She smells like fucking sex-flavored cotton candy. My tongue traces a line from her ear down to her shoulder, then I kiss my way back up.
I roll her hardening nipple between my thumb and forefinger, listening to her soft whimpers and she starts to wiggle her ass cheeks into my hard on.
Being with her makes me take inventory. There were things I didn’t even know I wanted in life before her. Like a fucking family. But now I want it more than my next breath. I can see it in my mind. Promise painting and giggling, bouncing a baby on one knee, her belly already beautifully round with another.
Then there’s me. In the kitchen, cooking and laughing and shaking my head at the wonder of her. Of them. Of us.
My family.
“You know why women like to spoon, don’t you?” She grinds the crack of her ass into my erection.
“Yeah. They like to see just how much booty wiggling it takes to give their man a hard on.”
“Who’s in charge now, big man?”
“Uh huh. I own your ass, remember?” My fingers leave her stiffening peak to feel around for the pendant I gave her.
<
br /> “And I own your heart.”
“Yes, that you do, babe. That you do.”
One more booty wiggle and the charge is lit. I shift my torso and tug at my t-shirt, getting it off. Then I kick out of my jeans and boxers, leaving them under the covers.
I throw the duvet back and in one motion I’ve got her on her back as her melodic giggle floats through the high ceiling.
“This cunt is out of control. It needs some discipline.” I push back onto my heels. My hands take her knees and pull them up and apart because I want to see all of what’s mine.
We need the distraction right now, but I’m not sure Promise is in the mood for this kind of playtime. So I sit back, my cock already saluting at the ready as I wait for her reaction.
“Oh yeah? Bad pussy?” She juts out her plump bottom lip and I feel a drop of pre-cum dribble down my cock head.
Game on.
I lay a slap on her open folds, feeling the heat and wetness as she winces.
“Don’t worry. I’m going to show this pussy who’s boss. Then, I’m going to kiss it until it fucks my face because I want you like that. Needy and naughty. My sweet baby girl knows who takes care of her, doesn’t she?”
She nods. Her mouth drops open and a smile curves her lips when I bring my hand down again between her legs. I love the yelp she lets out, and I see the fire in her eyes.
My mouth starts to water. My neck twitches a few times but I barely notice. Her scent feels like bondage ropes around me, and I need my tongue inside of her.
Now.
“I’m going to eat that beautiful pussy until you beg me to stop.”
She opens her mouth to reply, but I’m on her. All she can do is suck in a gulp of air as I shove my tongue so deep inside. Her hips lift off the bed and she immediately rides my face.
I’ve never told her, but she’s too good for me. I know I married far up the chain of command, so far that someone should have slapped me back down. But here I am. So I intend to keep her completely satisfied, so completely satisfied that she will never even have time to think twice about her decision to marry a fuck like me. A girl like her could be on any man’s arm. Some billionaire somewhere is missing his porcelain doll. And although I may not have the coin to offer her like that, I sure as shit can make sure she knows all the other ways only I can take care of her.
