by Rose Harper
After leaving Derrick’s room, I can’t quit pondering over this entire fucked-up mess. I’m in a daze of numbness as I trek silently through the house.
Nine years. I’ve missed nine years of his life.
Fuck, I missed Sparrow’s entire pregnancy. Missed the ultrasounds, doctor’s visits, birth—I lost everything a father should be part of.
But there’s something still nagging at me. Something that just isn’t adding up with her story. Her version is too clear-cut to be the whole truth. And if I know anything, if it seems too easy, then that means it probably is. There’s more there; I just need to find it.
Walking into my bedroom, I softly close the door behind me. My mind is a mess of turbulent thoughts. It doesn’t make sense for all of this to be coming out right now, just days before the biggest wedding Georgia has ever seen. It’s like she planned this somehow, which I know isn’t true, but I can’t stop myself from thinking it.
I saw the devastation on her face when she let Drake’s name slip. The insecurities that rushed to the surface threatening to swallow her whole. You would think she would be pissed that Derrick found out about us, and maybe she was for a moment, but her anger swiftly turned to herself for outing her dirty little secret.
Thinking of how she kept Drake’s existence a secret for all these years—it makes my blood boil. How could she do that to our child? Keep him from a family I know will do anything for him. None of this makes any sense. And the more I try to figure it out, the more complicated it becomes.
I knew coming back to Georgia would bring up shit from the past, but I didn’t expect this. I didn’t expect my entire life to be turned upside down.
Before coming here, the only thing I had to worry about were the clients I had and the drugs I had to run. The only person I had to care about was myself. My needs. My wants. My desires.
Now I have this whole family I didn’t even know about.
What the fuck am I going to do? Who would I even consult when it pertains to this? Sparrow’s body language has already told me what I want to know: very few people know of Drake’s existence. And of those very few people, the most important—me—was not one of them. Until now.
Betrayal raises in my chest, coils around my heart, threatening to slice and dice it wide open. You’d think I would be used to duplicity by now, what with all the shady shit I’m into. And I am, to a degree. Still, that doesn’t mean it cuts any less deep when the treachery comes from someone you’d never thought it would. If anything, it cuts much deeper.
A wave of nausea rises up as I think of everything that needs to be done tomorrow. The visit I have to make. The one I’m dreading with everything I have. If there were a way to get out of this blasted town without showing my face, I would. Going there brings up too many lost memories—cause things to rise to the surface that will never be again.
Making my way over to the bed, I pull the covers back and get between the sheets. Lying against the headboard, I wipe the moisture from my eyes with quick, angry movements. I’m angry at her for her betrayal, and at myself for being incapable of seeing shit I should have.
Then again, if I’d been here, I would have seen it. No doubt. With as hard as I watched Sparrow’s body while we were growing up, I would have noticed the subtle differences that no one else would have. Her growing breasts and thickening hips and thighs. The slimness of her chin and neck. The semi-permanent bags that lie just beneath her eyes from days of exhaustion.
I would have noticed everything if I’d just been present.
I should be raging mad at finding out she lied to me. Not to mention the wounds from her betrayal.
But what I really am—at the core of my being, is upset.
Disordered.
Humiliated.
Wounded.
Yes, I’m definitely wounded. If she would have just trusted me, not to mention given me the chance to protect both of them, we could be a happy family right now. All three of us, coming and going from family dinners and special occasions. Celebrating birthdays, Christmases, and other holidays.
Of course, her family would be upset to find out Sparrow and I had been together. But, they would have gotten over that after finding out about Drake. They would have come to love the thought of us being together, knowing I would have treated their daughter with the respect she deserved.
We could have made this entire thing work, but instead, she doomed us before we even had a chance.
Hearing my phone buzz on the nightstand, I warily reach over, unlocking the screen. Upon seeing it’s Vinny Calvetti, my eyes widen in disbelief. It’s been months since I’ve heard anything from his end. Usually we don’t stay in contact with each other unless one of us is planning a trip the other needs to know about.
Apparently, Mateo needs something only my men and I can get him.
Vinny: I need you and your team to get me everything you know on Marco.
Marco? Who the fuck is that?
Vinny and I go back to the start of my reign in California. His brother runs the East Coast, and I the West. His family and I came to a mutual agreement not to broach on the other’s turf, but that our services were open for discussion if the need ever arose. This is apparently Vinny calling in a favor.
Me: Got a last name to go with that, Vin? Kinda can’t put anything in motion without a full name.
Vinny: No. Get it done. I expected answers yesterday, D.
Always a ray of fucking sunshine, that one. But at least his fucked-up problems are taking my mind off my own. I’ll never tell him that, but he just saved me from myself.
Me: Do you forget who you’re talking to? You came to me for help, not the other way around. I’m diving into contacts who will want product in exchange for services.
Vinny: Can you help me or not?
I sit, mulling it over in my head. What he’s asking me to do will put me in the shady side of my business—well, the shadier side. It’s been years since I’ve dived into the connections, trying to find out information on an unknown. It’s not going to be an easy feat to get this information, and he knows that.
Still, something burns inside me to help him. I don’t know what it is, and I chalk it up to the situation I find myself in now. Without answers. I hate being thrust into this situation, and if I can help it, I won’t allow anyone else to be left sitting around twiddling their thumbs.
Shit starts happening—people get hurt, they die—and you want nothing more than the ability to make it stop.
Sighing, I quickly type out a message, my reaction making my mind up for me.
Me: Messenger everything you have. I’m at the Jameson residence in Georgia until Monday morning.
Vinny: What the fuck are you doing in Georgia?
Me: Long story short, I just found out I’m a father.
I wait for a few minutes, knowing Vinny and his cocky ass will have something to say about that. There isn’t a time you can render that Italian bastard speechless, but I start thinking I just have. It isn’t until my phone lights up with a call that I know I fucked his mind two ways from Sunday. Vinny never calls. He always wants proof of his contact with people. He’s a paranoid bastard like that.
Rolling my eyes, I slide my finger across the screen and bring the phone to my ear. I can’t even get a hello out before he starts peppering me with shit, causing my mind to become mush within two-point-five seconds.
“What’s her name? Where does she live? Who’s her family? What do you want me to use to kill her?”
“Hold the fuck up.” I interrupt his line of questioning. “You’re not killing anyone, you crazy Italian bastard.” Even though it warms my cold heart that he would. “There’s no need for any of that.”
“How did you get saddled with a bambini?” he asks, confused.
When I visit the East Coast—more importantly, New York—for my deals, I always meet up with Vinny to discuss the things going down on his family’s end. It’s been more than three years since I’ve seen him, so I k
now shit has happened since then. You can’t be a Calvetti and not have something happen. That family has the worst luck I’ve ever seen.
“Long story short, again, I fucked her bareback.”
“Fuck,” he answers, shuffling on the other end of the line. “Do you know nothing?”
“Fuck you, asshole. This was close to ten years ago.”
“Ten? So, you have a nine-year old she never told you about? Santo cazzo.” He whistles long and loud.
Forcing a dry chuckle, I reply, “My thoughts exactly, but I have a plan in mind.”
At least, I think I do. Right now, I have to muddle through the cobwebs in my mind to see if it’s a logical move or not. More than likely, it’s something crazier than the Calvettis would even think up.
“What are you going to do?”
I know exactly what he’s asking. He wants to know if I’m going to be the ruthless bastard my name suggests, or if I’m going to pretend like that part of me doesn’t exist. As much as I hate to admit it, I think I’ll have to become the version of myself no family member should see. There’s no way she will take me seriously otherwise.
“I’m going to do what’s necessary.”
At least, to me it will feel like it’s obligatory. To her, it will feel like her world is coming to an end.
Chapter Four
Sparrow
Lips. Hands. Tongues. Bodies. Pleasure.
Our lips duel, fighting for who will be the victor. Our hands, trekking over our flesh, causing groans to slip free from our parted lips. Tongues, teasing. Bodies connected as they never have before.
Just the sight, sounds, and feelings cause pleasure to crest inside of me.
“How long have you thought of this, little bird?” His voice is smooth, electric. It causes my body to misfire as I press myself closer, enveloping myself in his heat.
“Too long,” I release, arching my back as a moan grumbles inside my chest.
The feel of his fingers as he slowly trails them down over the curve of my hips causes a riot of emotions to assault every fissure of my being. It’s been so long since I felt this alive—this free.
“Is that pussy wet for me?” he groans, grinding himself against me, allowing me to feel the object of his obvious desire against my hip.
He has no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment. How every part of my body screams to be taken by his once more.
He may have run off to California, but he took a part of my heart with him when he left that I’ll never get back. I’m just glad that after everything, we’re finally together once more. It’s been almost too much for me to withstand being in the same house as him and pretending I hate him.
I don’t actually hate him. No matter how I act toward Declan, he will always be the one man I love more than anything.
“Show me how wet that pussy is,” he says, nipping at my lips.
His touch causes a sweet, subtle ache to bloom in my core. My body is practically weeping for a release only he can give me.
Trust me, I’ve tried myself. Nothing and no one can get me off the way Declan can. The way he did, repeatedly, that night.
Just the memories of our time together cause a flush heat to break out across my skin. Our cries of pleasure as he emptied inside of me, over and over again.
The perspiration dots along our flesh as his hands roam over my sweltering skin, as if my body is his and his alone. That he has all rights to me—has all privileges to wring every ounce of pleasure from my body simply because he says so.
Ah, just being pressed against him like this is almost too much. There’s not a single inch of space separating us. My pebbled nipples graze across the thin hair dotting his muscular chest, causing a rippling effect inside my pussy. Tremors wreak havoc in my body as he clings to me as if I’m his buoy to stay afloat amidst a storm.
It’s intoxicating.
Breathtaking.
Irresistible.
“Please, Declan,” I whimper, rocking against him. “Take it away.”
A gasp gets caught in my throat as his lips attach to my neck, sucking. His fingers trail down the other side of my neck, between my breasts, slowly over my stomach, to rest just inside the waistband of my lacy thong.
“Tell me what you need, little bird.”
Lifting my hips, I cry out as his teeth sink into the flesh of my neck. The pain comingling with the pleasure, causing the heat to burn higher and my panties to soak with my arousal.
“Tell. Me.” His voice is rough, sultry. It’s a blanket that lays over me, warming me from the inside out.
My clit throbs painfully. Every inch of my skin is hyperaware of his presence. If only he would just …
“Touch me. Ah, just …” I grasp his shoulders, rocking my hips faster.
“Where?”
He nips and sucks at my neck, each pull in time with the flutter resting deep inside of me. Just from his touch, I feel myself cresting. I feel the burn deep within me, and it feels so fucking good.
“I want you,” I gasp, digging my nails into the skin of his shoulders when his hands slide inside my thong. “Fuck. I want your fingers inside of me, Declan.”
“Mmm.” His hot breath falls over my skin.
Running my fingers through his hair, I pull at the strands, garnering a deep-seated growl from him. Hearing that he’s just as on edge as I am is fucking euphoric. It’s everything I didn’t know I wanted.
Still, nothing prepared me for the moment he tilted my world on its axis.
My breath leaves me completely as Declan’s fingers slide down through my saturated lips, and he pulls me closer to him, slipping my nipple into his mouth. In tandem, he works me over until I’m a panting, writhing mess on his lap, my juices flowing down my legs in rivulets.
“Fuck, right there. Mmm, ah!”
Inserting a finger, he curls it up at just the right angle to send me spiraling. I cry out, my entire body lighting up as my arousal blooms to an almost unbearable degree. Tears leak from the corner of my eyes as more pleasure than I know what to do with turns agonizing. Yet, nothing I do will push me over the edge. Nothing he’s doing will.
Until his teeth close around my nipple at the same time his thumb passes over my bundle of nerves. I’m done for.
My back arches as the climax peaks, my pussy tightening and releasing his strong digit that’s buried inside me. My legs clench Declan’s as he growls against the skin of my chest as I explode on top of him into an earth-shattering climax that steals the breath from my lungs. His cock jerks against my clit, enhancing the shock waves.
Nothing has ever felt that powerful, that wonderful. He’s absolutely amazing …
As I come down from the high, I glance around the room. Tears prick the corners of my eyes as the arrow of what could have been pierces my heart.
It was just a fantasy. A memory of sorts that plays on repeat in my mind. The things Declan and I did that night have made for many nights of bringing myself to climax, hoping—wishing—with everything in me that one day it would come to fruition once more. Now, I know that will never happen.
I’ve ruined everything. Nothing will ever be the same again. All my lies, half-truths, and secrets caught up to me. He’ll never believe another word that comes out of my mouth.
And the thing is … I haven’t told him the worst part of my deceit. The thing that practically makes my skin crawl whenever I think about it. By the time it’s all over, Declan is going to loathe the very ground I walk on, and the only person I can blame is myself.
Chapter Five
Declan
Staring up at the gigantic house in front of me, I will my battered soul to put on a front no one will be able to see through. All I need is my family asking me what’s wrong. Just a fissure of a connection with them will have me spilling everything I found out last night. It will have me leaking shit I’ve not even processed myself.
A son—a boy I’ve never seen—all because of his mother and her freaking paranoia. God. She’s
almost as bad as Vinny.
I wonder if he looks like me? I wonder what his hobbies are? His favorite food, television show, toys? Why did she have to take all that away from me, goddammit?
After getting off the phone last night, I tossed and turned, roving over everything Sparrow and I left unsaid. The questions I didn’t think to ask as I was enveloped in nothing more than a mask of rage and anguish.
Dark circles are prominent under my eyes as I tunnel my fingers into my hair to attempt to make myself more presentable. I may look put together on the outside, minus the bags under my eyes and the lines surrounding my lips, but on the inside I’m nothing more than turbulent emotions begging to be set free of her betrayal.
“Look what the goddamn cat dragged in!”
Forcing a smile, I follow my gaze to the driveway, seeing Jason get out of his black on black Bugatti Chiron, tricked out with chrome as far as the eye can see. He’s stockier than he was the last I saw him, but I know there isn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on his solid frame. His sandy blond hair hangs a little shaggy on top, with the sides clipped low to the scalp, and those pesky bangs of his are still, to this day, falling in front of his sky-blue eyes.
“You’d think after ten years, you would get a decent haircut,” I snip back, smiling wider when he grins a megawatt smile toward me.
“The chicks love the bad boy, cuz. You can’t mess with perfection. Messing that up means messing with the amount of pussy I get. No pussy makes for an evil little Jason.” It seems, just like a decade ago, Jason’s main concern is still nothing more than how to get between a woman’s legs faster than it takes him to bat an eye. Figures.
“You’re such a manwhore,” I volley, chuckling.
“And you’re a celibate little fuck that needs to get laid,” he deadpans, slapping me on the shoulder when he comes to stand next to me.
