Hope (Things That Matter Book 2)

by Casey Diam

  Suddenly, I was glad I’d removed the security cam from his office a few weeks back. That was one less thing to worry about.

  “You too, Brad.”

  As he moved around his desk, Brad and I took a seat in front of the old desk that looked like it belonged in a principal’s office, which was what sitting here in front of him was essentially like. He wasn’t our father. He was our manager.

  His glare landed on me first. “I know what you’ve been doing.”

  My pulse quickened, but I kept a straight face and my mouth shut.

  “You know I’m your father and that Brad’s your brother. It’s nothing you didn’t know before.”

  “I didn’t actually.” I cast a glance at Brad. “But he seemed to have known.”

  “You didn’t want to be a part of the business, and whether you thought you were adopted or my own, what difference does it make? Or does it make a difference? Do you feel more inclined to be a part of what we have going on here?”

  With a slow jerk of my head, I muttered, “No.” It was a gut instinct, and I shouldn’t have said that. I regressed. “Maybe.” A way was wide open to get all the evidence Bailey would need. “I wouldn’t know because you never trusted me enough to tell me the truth about you and Brad, my own flesh and blood. It doesn’t make any sense why you’d even hide that from me.”

  “Don’t try to make sense of it. It was for your own protection and ours.”

  “So, I’m assuming Brad knows his mother, too.”

  A muscle twitched in Connor’s jaw, and his eyes held a threat I didn’t dare question. “Brad, go wait outside.” He waited until the door closed. “Your mother is dead.”

  “How?” I asked, not giving a shit how pissed he wanted to be.

  She was my mother, and I deserved to know.

  “I killed her.”

  Words evaded me as what he was saying sank in. I’d had a suspicion, but hearing him say it, like it was nothing, like she meant nothing...

  Shit.

  “See? That look on your face right now is why I kept it from you, so you wouldn’t go asking questions you didn’t want to know the answers to. But, since you’re so desperate to know the kind of person she was, I’ll tell you. Your mother was a whore, and she disrespected me,” he huffed. “She got what she deserved.”

  “That’s a real fucked-up thing to say about the woman you had a kid with.”

  “I made her pay, and then you came into the picture. A pity, really. You’re fucking weak, just like her. Brad’s crackhead mother was a much better payoff.” He leaned back in his chair, and that same arrogance that slithered over Brad marred his features.

  He’d raped her. My fingers tapped against my jeans before clenching into a fist.

  I got up and started for the door.

  “Where are you going? I thought you wanted to hear about the family history.”

  “I did.” My jaw tightened as I tried to retain the anger coiling through my veins. With my hand on the doorknob, I twisted to face him. “But you’re a fucking liar, so what’s the point? First, you told me the Sawyers didn’t want me, so you adopted me. Now, you’re telling me this. Why should I believe you? Are you planning to stick to your story this time?”

  “Watch your mouth. You don’t fucking talk to me like that,” Connor growled, rising from behind his desk, his hands slamming down onto the polished surface. “What, you think she fucking welcomed you with open arms after what I did? Fucking her like the whore she was. It’s over with, and unless you want things to change around here, you’d better watch what you do because, the next time you’re in this house, we won’t be having a conversation.”

  I jerked the door open as he continued, raising his voice as I walked out, “And, if anything, you should thank me! How many adopted kids do you know who have access to a limitless bank account and have lived in a fucking luxurious suite half of their lives, you ungrateful bastard?”

  Brad stepped in front of me with a smug grin. “It just gets better. How does it feel to be the product of unwanted fucking?”

  Cocking my elbow, I swung my fist into his face so hard, I could have heard the moment I broke his nose, but I didn’t hear it or anything else. I watched the blood gushing as he touched his nose, and then he was on me the next second, pushing and throwing a punch that I blocked. Brad was the same build, and he had been trained, strong and fast, but I was better. He wasn’t even a match for me, not when he spent his days getting high. Like I knew he was this second. That was why I wasn’t going to fight him. So, I pushed him harder this time, and he landed on the floor and skidded back on his ass.

  I continued to the front door as Connor came out.

  “What the hell? Caleb, you don’t fucking go anywhere. You get back here!”

  Two of Connor’s men appeared from out of nowhere, blocking my path to the door. With a slow shake of my head, I turned back around, pressing my lips together. Brad was scrambling up from the floor, his white T-shirt covered in blood. I had to admit, that punch wasn’t even for his mindless comment. It was calculated. Waiting to happen since the day he’d attacked Paige. I’d never had a solid enough reason to hit him before, but his shit-talking had created the perfect opportunity.

  “What, your perfect son can’t defend himself in a fight? It’s for his own good. You talk about a crackhead delivering better.” I bit my lip as I shook my head. “I’m guessing you were talking about her crackhead son. Well, congratulations. Let’s see how things work out when he can’t get his daily fix.”

  “You don’t come here and make threats in my house. Are you forgetting your place, son?” Connor nodded to the two men standing behind me. “Deal with him. Let me know when you’re done.”

  The last thing I saw was Brad laughing, his teeth red with the blood running down from his nose into his mouth. A fist whacked the side of my head, sending tremors through me, and before I turned, the heel of a boot landed on my back, transporting me to the floor.

  I thought about Paige because, if I fought back, I wouldn’t get to go home. I needed to go home. I needed to see her again.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Paige

  Pacing the living room again, I paused for a second and looked at my phone on the couch where I’d been sitting for hours. I didn’t know what to do. What could I do?

  In my anxious state, I’d even called Calvin, who pretty much told me what Caleb had—to wait and not do anything rash.

  “What’s going on, Paige?” Ryan asked, looking up from his phone. “You’ve been doing this all night. Now you have me on edge.”

  I stopped and looked at him. His blond waves were cut lower than when I’d last seen him.

  “If I asked you to take me somewhere, no questions asked, would you?”

  “Depends on where.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why? What’s this about?”

  My hands lifted, and I clutched a few strands of my hair at the root before sliding it through to the ends. I shook my head and gripped my hair again, pulling as I stared at the ceiling.

  “And where’s Caleb?” Ryan asked as I continued shaking my head.

  At the sound of the elevator, I moved, so I could see who was coming through the steel doors. I prayed it was Caleb, but Calvin had said he would check in when his mom got off work, and it felt like it’d been hours since then. The doors slid open, and Caleb stepped out. Tears sprang to my eyes as my heart dropped into my stomach. Blood was all over him—his face, his arms...

  I moved toward him, wanting to see if he was fine, but stopped, scared I might hurt him if I touched him.

  Or is it not his blood? What if he—

  “Oh my God.”

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  My chest swelled, and my throat clogged. I couldn’t speak, and then I realized it was because I wasn’t breathing, thinking about what he might have done.

  I took in a full breath as I heard Ryan, “Holy shit, dude. What happened?”

  Caleb moved around me
and kept walking to his room. He hadn’t expected to find anyone here since I should have still been at the lake house.

  I turned to Ryan. “Thanks for staying with me, but you should probably—”

  “Yeah, I know. Call if you need anything.”

  “Thank you.” I swallowed as Ryan departed. Then I stood in place for a few seconds.

  Not sure what I would find out, I walked down the short hallway to Caleb’s room and placed my knuckles on his door for a moment before I knocked. When I didn’t hear anything, I placed my ear to the door and heard the shower spraying and splashing against the tiles. Each of our bathrooms had one of those large rainfall showerheads, so I knew he wouldn’t hear me if he was already in the shower.

  Twisting the knob, I let myself into his room. The light was off, but the bathroom door was open, and he stood there, his back to me, stripping out of his clothes and dropping them into a pile on the floor. A few obvious pink discolorations were on his back along with the scabbed cat scratches I’d left there. When my eyes lowered, I didn’t see any other damage, only a firm ass. And just...wow. He was a masterpiece, even from behind.

  I stopped behind him and skimmed my fingers over the bruises. He didn’t flinch, but when I pressed my cheek to the center of his back and wound my arms around his waist, our eyes locked in the mirror. Caleb was not just naked. He was baring himself to me. And, as confused as I was about what had happened, it was all I needed. Without words, I was letting him know that I would have his back, no matter what.

  As I gazed at the dried blood on his face, the steam from the shower started a mist on the mirror. Stepping back, I pulled my T-shirt over my head and removed my leggings and undergarments. Without a word, we stepped into the shower together, and as reddish liquid circled around our feet, I squirted body wash into my hand and massaged it over his skin. First his back and then his front.

  Squeezing more soap in one hand, I reached down and rubbed it over the hard length of his cock. I couldn’t believe he was this turned on after the night I could only imagine he’d had. But, with less care than how I’d touched the rest of him, I pumped my hand up and down his shaft until the rainfall above washed away the foam. A sigh came from him, and I continued to watch my hand move over him, steadily but strong. The warm spray from the shower over my skin was no longer soothing. It caressed the nerve endings in my body and sent a teasing trail over my nipples and clit.

  The corners of my mouth turned down as I noticed how my hand couldn’t close around the girth of him.

  Is this even doing anything for him?

  I wanted to give him everything, and my hand couldn’t even fit. He was his own fortress.

  How could I satisfy him? How could I shield him like he shielded me?

  I kissed his chest and lowered onto my knees, the size of him even more breathtaking from this position. Guiding him to my mouth, I caught the droplet of water hanging from the crowned tip on my tongue before I lapped around the smooth, delicious head. As I took more of him between my lips, a ragged breath left him, and when I looked up, he was leaning forward, watching me, one hand braced against the tiles on the wall, which allowed his broad shoulders to shelter me from the spray. My eyes traveled down the taut muscles in his body—his arms, his torso—to the happy trail and hair at the base of his cock. With my own need rising, I remembered how that hair felt against me. The way it teased my clit when he was inside me.

  Pumping my hand faster, I matched the rhythm with my mouth as I sucked him hard, and the more I sucked, the more the taste of him became apparent, making me even hungrier for him.

  “Oh fuck,” he groaned, touching my hair.

  My already-hard nipples became tighter, and my pussy clenched. This couldn’t be normal. We’d had sex early this morning, but I felt like we hadn’t had sex in days. I wanted more. So much more. A pop sounded as I withdrew him from my lips, only to take him between them again.

  “Oh shit,” he mumbled. “Fuck...keep doing that.”

  I looked up at him. He was biting his lip, his eyes dark and cloudy with desire.

  Could he feel how much I wanted him? How much I loved his taste? How much I loved this part when he held my head steady and just fucked my mouth. As I felt the pull when he wrapped my hair around his fist, I pressed my tongue to the thick, velvety flesh thrusting in and out of my mouth and moaned, thinking about how easy it was for him to lose himself in pleasure. So strong and powerful but helpless as he poured himself into my mouth with a gasp. I drank, needing him to release everything down my throat, especially his pain, so I sucked him dry, forcing him to give it to me. All of it.

  I knew that was why he hadn’t said anything. He was hurting, and all I wanted to do was take it away.

  I wanted all of it.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Caleb

  I followed Paige into her own bathroom like a lost puppy, afraid if I let her out of my sight for a second, everything would flood back in. With each of us wrapped in a towel and her blow-drying her hair, I brushed my good hand through my hair. My ring finger had been dislocated on my other as a warning about keeping my mouth shut, one they had been so eager in giving that they didn’t even notice the Band-Aid between my thumb and index finger.

  Paige’s eyes caught mine in the mirror, and she licked her lips. I smiled as my cock reacted beneath the towel, needing more of her attention. Needing to ravage her mouth or pussy. At this point, I didn’t know which was sweeter.

  Distraction.

  The moment I’d begun forcing my cock down her willing throat, using her the same way I’d used so many girls before, I’d felt guilty. I’d never intended to do that with her. I hadn’t even expected her to be here or for her to want me.

  I would tell her about the kind guy I could be sometimes. I couldn’t not tell her. As she ran a comb through her damp strands, I circled an arm around her and tugged her towel loose, hanging it on the chrome rod behind us before I got in between her and the counter.

  Fuck, her beautiful tits. I covered one of the mounds with my hand.

  The blow-dryer stopped, and I met her sparkling baby blues. “You can keep drying your hair. Don’t mind me.”

  Lowering my head, I sucked on her nipple for a bit before plunging my fingers inside her channel. As she wavered in my arms, the dryer lowered to her side.

  “Keep drying,” I said, moving down her body.

  Seating myself on the plush bathroom rug in my towel, I separated her legs on either side of mine, and then I swatted her ass and pulled her closer, her pussy dripping before my eyes. I dove in, tongue first, licking and sucking on her glistening lips.

  Only I have been here. Fuck, it gets me every time that she’s all mine.

  I dipped in two fingers, working them inside her tightness, as I feasted on her desire. She moaned above me, gripping my head and grinding her pussy on my lips. I flattened my tongue and let her pussy ride over it before I flicked it over her clit. Two seconds later, the blow-dryer clattered on the counter, and she bent over the sink for support but also like she was trying to climb away. I wound my forearm around her leg as I continued to devour her, shaking my finger inside her quivering channel until she collapsed onto my lap, panting.

  “God,” she sighed into my neck, still squirming.

  A huge step up from what I felt like. I would definitely take it.

  “I wanted to make you feel good.” She drew back, looking into my eyes. “Now, you’ve disabled me from doing that.”

  A wry smile spread across my lips. “You’re disabled?”

  “I don’t know. My vagina might be.”

  “I’m hoping that’s good.”

  “Too good. I don’t know if I can come like that again.”

  Laughing, I leaned my head back on the bathroom vanity. I was worried about using her, and it sounded as if that’s exactly what she wanted me to do. “You’re worried you might not be able to come again if I fuck you? Were you planning to use your vagina to make me feel good?” My
chest jerked. Fuck, I couldn’t stop laughing.

  She brought her hands to her flushed cheeks. “Stop. Not like that, but maybe. I don’t know.”

  I used my index finger to swipe her hair from her face.

  She’s so fucking perfect.

  “I was worried about using you that way, and you’re saying you might be okay with that?”

  “Yeah.” She frowned. “Is that wrong?”

  My gaze dropped to her breast, and I bit my lip as my eyes lowered to her pussy, which was still exposed with the way her thighs straddled my lap. I scratched my jaw and looked up. “I’ve used a lot of girls that way. Meaningless sex. I used to do it to stop myself from thinking.” She dropped her hands between her thighs to cover herself, and I continued, “I try to separate the two, using sex as a distraction versus when I have sex with you, but”—I shook my head—“I don’t know. Being with you is just different, and I don’t even understand it. I can’t explain it.”

  “So, my sleeping with you to make you feel better should be a bad thing then? But, if it makes you feel good, I don’t care.”

  She seemed unsure, but I smiled as her words clarified what I was trying to get to.

  “You make me feel good. That’s the difference. Everyone else, I was only disgusted with myself afterward.” A chill traveled over my body, and I cursed, my revulsion heavy as I recalled those moments. “It was fucking horrible. I was horrible. But it was the only way I knew how to stop myself from thinking. It was my escape.”

  I lifted my hand to tweak a taut pink nipple, and she sighed.

  Reaching up, she touched the split skin over my eye, and I leaned into her touch, closing my eyes as her soft hand caressed the rough edges of my jaw.

  “When you hurt, I hurt, and it makes me wish I could take your pain away.”

  I opened my eyes to see the worry etched between her brows. “I don’t want you to take my pain, Paige. I want you to give me yours.” And I meant that in ways she wouldn’t understand, ways I didn’t even understand.

  “I could give it and take it at the same time.”