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Heart of the Hunter

Page 44

by Chance Carter


  We emailed a link of the video to Matt’s employer, and to his wife. Lacey had found out her name during a period of online stalking that had bordered on an obsession.

  “I know you wanted to keep your private life private,” I said to Lacey.

  “Fuck that,” she said, downing her sixth glass of wine for the evening. “I don’t know how to thank you boys. You’ve fixed everything. For the first time in weeks, I feel like I’ve got the closure I needed. I finally feel like I can move on with my life.”

  “Then our job’s done,” Grant said. “Both of you girls always remember, you’ve got the four of us to cover you for anything. Don’t keep secrets from us. We’re here for you. We’ve got your backs. We’re family.”

  The following day, I was eating cheerios with Sam for breakfast. I slept at Faith’s house every night, and I got to see Sam all the time. We ate breakfast together, I dropped him off at school, I picked him up. In the afternoons he’d hang out with me and the brothers and help fix up the farmhouse for Faith.

  He loved hanging out with us and I loved having all that time to spend with him. I could see his confidence grow by the day as he learned more and more about being a man from me and the brothers.

  I’d say the proudest day of my life was the day I drove up to his school to pick him up, and he asked me if he could go play baseball with his new friends.

  “Who are your new friends?” I asked.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you dad.”

  “Try me.”

  “Those guys,” he said, pointing at a group of four older boys across the lot.

  I looked, and sure enough it was the four boys that used to bully him.

  “You’re friends with those idiots now?” I said, grinning.

  “They’re not that bad when you get to know them, dad.”

  “What about the house? You were going to help Forrester with the baseboards in your bedroom.”

  “Well, I thought about that, and my new friends have offered to come over this weekend and help me catch up on the work I miss today.”

  “Is that so?” I said.

  “Yeah, dad. So what do you say? Can I go play ball?”

  I grabbed him and kissed his forehead. “Go hit a homer for me, buddy,” I said.

  I slowed down as I passed them all on my way out of the lot and rolled down my window.

  All the boys, including Sam, looked up at me.

  “You fellas look after each other,” I said, “treat each other like brothers. One day you’ll need backup and you’ll have each other.”

  Sam was doing great. Faith even told me his grades were up since my return. I was glad to hear it.

  I also took Sam to meet his grandaddy. The old man was buried in the orchard behind the house, a stone grave under the biggest apple tree on the property. It was a beautiful, secluded spot.

  “This is where my father’s buried,” I told Sam.

  He took my hand.

  “Your mother named you after him.”

  Sam nodded.

  “It was awfully nice of her to name you after my father. I mean, I wasn’t around in those days. I wanted to be, but I couldn’t.”

  “I know,” Sam said.

  “So your mother did the greatest thing a woman could ever do for a man. She raised you for me while I was away.”

  Sam nodded.

  “But I’m back now, Sam. And I’ll never go away ever again.”

  He didn’t say anything but he squeezed my hand so tight it surprised me. I hadn’t realized he could be so strong.

  “I love you, son,” I said, looking at my father’s grave.

  “I love you too, dad.”

  Hearing him say that made my life complete.

  And being with Faith was like being with an angel. Every night before I fell asleep next to her, I silently thanked God for giving her to me. She was more than I deserved—far more. She always had been. Ever since the time she came into that motel, all those years before, and asked me for my help, she’d possessed my heart. Who’d have ever thought we’d make it so far?

  I had her to thank for all the happiness in my life.

  It looked like she’d been the desperate one back in that motel bar twelve years ago, but the truth was, I was the one who was desperate. I was the one who needed her. She’d saved my life in every single way.

  Killing her enemies and making my way back to her was the hardest thing I’d ever done. And creating a child with her, and now, creating a loving home, were the best things that possibly could have happened.

  I loved fucking her, long into the night, even when she begged me to stop. And I could spend the rest of my life doing it to her.

  Chapter 50

  Jackson

  “COME ON,” I SAID, leading Faith by the hand. “It’s not much farther.”

  She was blindfolded, following me from the truck toward the porch of the new house we’d built for her. It had been a group effort, with Grant, Forrester, Grady, Lacey and of course, Sam, all pitching in. It looked great, the fresh paint glistening, the new porch shading us from the sun, the clay tiles of the roof reflecting the sunlight beautifully.

  It was a beautiful home, fitting for a beautiful woman.

  “I can’t see a thing,” Faith said.

  “Keep it on,” I said, putting my hand on the blindfold. “It’s just a few more steps.”

  I led her up the steps of the porch. Sam was sitting very still, very silently, on an easy chair on the verandah. I put my finger over my lips and he nodded.

  “You ready, Faith?” I said.

  “Yes,” she said. “Jackson, where are we?”

  I took off the blindfold. She blinked a few times before opening her eyes fully. Then she threw her hand in front of her mouth.

  “Oh my God,” she cried.

  Her eyes filled with tears. I’d never seen her so happy.

  “Jackson, this is beautiful.”

  “I didn’t do it all by myself,” I said. “Sam helped a lot.”

  “Really? When?”

  “All those sports practices. We weren’t exactly playing sports.”

  “I can’t believe it,” she said.

  “It’s all yours, if you want it, Faith.”

  She looked at me like she was about to burst. “Jackson, what are you saying?”

  “This house, it would be the perfect place for you, me, and Sam to live as a family, wouldn’t it?”

  She was crying so much she couldn’t answer.

  I’d rehearsed it all a thousand times with Sam. I gave him the signal. He ran inside and turned on the music, Faith’s favorite song. I led her around to the back of the house where we’d strung dozens of lanterns from the trees. The sun was low in the evening sky and the firebugs were already out, shooting around the lanterns like meteors.

  Faith gasped at the sight. Everything was perfect.

  I got down on my knee.

  Faith was shaking her head. She looked down at me, her eyes filled with so many tears she couldn’t even see clearly, and she just shook her head.

  “You got the ring, buddy?” I said to Sam.

  Sam nodded and stepped forward with the tiny, turquoise box. I took it from him and snapped it open. Inside was a Tiffany’s engagement ring, a diamond on white gold. When Faith saw it her jaw dropped.

  “Faith,” I said, but she was already crying so much she couldn’t hear me.

  I laughed. Sam laughed too. That relaxed her and she stopped crying.

  “Faith Shepherd,” I said. “I love you more than life itself. I’ve loved you for so long I can’t even remember what it was like not to be in love with you. I adore you Faith. You’ve been mine since the moment I first set eyes on you, and I want the world to know it. Will you marry me?”

  The shaking of her head changed to nodding.

  “Yes,” she gasped, as if she’d been holding her breath. “Yes, of course I will.”

  “I love you,” I cried, my own eyes filling with tears. />
  “I love you too, Jackson.”

  I got up and grabbed her in my arms, lifted her off her feet, and put my mouth over hers. We didn’t even care that Sam was watching. I put my tongue against her lips and it slipped into her mouth, dancing with her tongue, just as it had the very first time we kissed.

  The warmth of her lips, the softness of her hair, the brightness of her eyes, those were the things that mattered to me, and as my wife, she’d be giving them to me for ever and ever. Those were the true things I wanted. I wanted her heart. I wanted her love.

  I didn’t want to possess her, so much as I wanted both of us to be possessed by a common love. The love of our marriage.

  “God, I love you so much,” I gasped when our kiss ended.

  “Then put a ring on it, silly.”

  I slipped the engagement ring onto her finger. The diamond paled in comparison to the beauty of her eyes, but it still looked perfect.

  Chapter 51

  Faith

  I ALWAYS THOUGHT IT WAS a cliché when girls said their wedding day was the happiest day of their life. I guess that’s because I was never married before. Girls, whatever you’ve heard about your wedding day, it doesn’t even come close to describing the happiness you’ll feel when you’re tying the knot with the man of your dreams. Only someone who’s experienced it can possibly know.

  Marrying Jackson was the culmination of so many years of longing and striving that it felt like the pinnacle of my life. It was like finally having all my dreams come true. When I burst into that motel bar all those years ago, desperately searching for a man to step up and help me, I’d never in a million years dreamed that this would be the outcome. Jackson had gone so far above and beyond what I’d expected, he transformed my entire life.

  He didn’t just get me to safety, he went beyond that, and spent years making sure that the men who I was messed up with would never be able to hurt me again. They’d never be able to hurt my son. My life wouldn’t have been possible if it wasn’t for the sacrifice Jackson had made. It had taken twelve years, but it had to be done. And not once did Jackson consider giving up on me.

  Of course, Jackson didn’t do it for free. He’d been honest with me right from the start. ‘A life for a life,’ he said. I didn’t know what it meant at the time, but Jackson did. Jackson knew exactly what it meant. He didn’t just want to have sex with me, he wanted me to have his baby. He wanted everything I had to offer, right to the core of my being, and he intended to collect.

  He possessed me in a way I didn’t even know a man could possess a woman. I was like putty in his hands. He saw me, he knew what he wanted, and I gave it to him without an ounce of resistance. That’s real power.

  Right from the beginning, he knew what he wanted, and he went after it with a singleminded devotion that I’d never even known was possible. So many times, he could have given up. He could have gone for another woman. But that wasn’t in his nature. He chose me, and he moved heaven and earth to have me.

  I loved him for that.

  And now that he was back, he treated me like a queen. I’d never have guessed a guy like him could be so kind, and compassionate, and caring. It was like he read my mind. He knew what I wanted or needed before I did. I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything less from him. He’d always exceeded my expectations in every single way. Now he was living with me, buying me gifts, cooking me fancy meals, helping me with my business, and with parenting Sam.

  He’d even built us a house. Or renovated it beyond recognition. It was a hacienda, a palace. It was more than I ever dreamed I deserved.

  And tonight was the night I’d be sleeping in it for the first time. We’d come such a long way. From a motel room on a dusty highway outside of Reno, to our own beautiful villa surrounded by Jackson’s father’s vineyard.

  I trembled when I thought of the sexual things Jackson would do to me in our new bedroom. It was our wedding night after all. Jackson was insatiable, and he was growing more passionate with every night we spent together.

  And if he treated me like a queen, he treated Sam like a treasure.

  Back at that motel twelve years ago, I’d asked Jackson if he was a good man.

  He told me he wasn’t. He said he was bad to the bone. He said I’d regret ever meeting him.

  At the time, I believed him. For years I believed him. He looked bad. He was scarred, tattooed, he rode a motorcycle and carried a gun. He fucked me, made me pregnant, and then disappeared. I thought he’d abandoned me. I thought he’d died. I thought I’d never set eyes on him again.

  But I was wrong. The fact of the matter was that Jackson was the very best man I possibly could have run into in that moment of desperation, and he was the only man who could do the things that needed to be done. He showed me what it meant to be a man, and also what it meant to be a woman who was loved and cherished.

  He was my protector, my lover, and the daddy to my child.

  And he had my heart.

  He’d always had my heart. Even that first night, when I was offering him sex in exchange for protection. Even when he’d run into me at the Los Lobos bar in Reno and I’d been a bitch to him. Yes, even then, he’d grabbed my heart like it was a lifesaver and he was lost at sea. He’d held my heart so tight it never escaped. It never wanted to.

  My heart belonged to him.

  Our wedding was in the orchard behind the house he’d prepared for me and Sam, and yes, it was the happiest day of my life.

  I was so proud of Sam for helping with the house. Sam had been starving for a father, and now that Jackson was back in his life, everything finally seemed to be making sense. He had friends. He was doing well at school. He was happy and confident.

  All our friends were at the wedding, of course. Lacey, Grant, Forrester and Grady were our wedding party. Sam was the ring bearer.

  The priest was an old Spanish man who’d known Jackson’s father. He’d been the priest at Jackson’s parent’s wedding.

  When he asked Jackson if he took me to be his wife, I thought my heart would burst.

  “I do,” Jackson said, tears falling down his cheeks. I knew he had so much love for me that our marriage would last forever. He’d killed for me. Not a lot of people can say that. Jackson looked at me the way I looked at Sam. Bullets wouldn’t stop that love.

  Then the priest turned to me, and asked if I would take Jackson to be my husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part. I knew the answer better than I knew my own name.

  “I do,” I said.

  The priest smiled. “You may kiss the bride.”

  Jackson grabbed me, and there was exactly the same passion in his arms as there had been the very first time he grabbed me at the motel. He kissed me like his life depended on it. I knew he’d kiss me that way till our dying day. He’d love me and Sam forever. And we’d love him forever.

  Wife Me Bad Boy

  Chance Carter

  Copyright © 2015 Chance Carter

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  To get in touch please contact: chance@chancecarter.com

  ISBN 978‐1‐927947‐53‐1

  Chapter 1

  Grant

  YOU WANT TO KNOW THE TRUTH ABOUT MEN? You want to know what we really think?

  All right, I’ll tell you, but you might not like it.

  Men hate weddings.

  There, I said it.

  I feel bad, I know it’s a really special day for every girl that ever dreamed of being a bride, but it’s the truth, and you’re better off hearing it from me now than some other guy later.

  Men despise weddings the way women despise breakups, or being cheated on, or growing old. Weddings go against everything we stand for, threaten our very view of the world, and our place within it.

  I’m not just speaking for myself. It’s not just me who thinks this way. It’s all men. Every
last one of us hates weddings. It’s practically a requirement for being a man.

  Think about it.

  How do we like to view ourselves? How do we really like to imagine the way the world sees us?

  A sailor, coasting into the sunset. A pirate on the High Seas, just us and our ship against everything the ocean has to throw at us. A cowboy, alone on our horse, riding into town and every women in it looking our way. A biker, cruising the open road, the wind in our hair and the sun on our face.

  It probably sounds stupid, but it’s the truth. We’re simple creatures. We like simple things.

  Just me and my horse and my gun, baby. Just me and my ship and my compass. Just me and my bike and a tank of gas. Hell, you don’t even have to get that fancy. Just me and my truck and my dog, baby. How’s that?

  It’s the way we’re built. We’re strong. We’re rugged. We stand alone.

  Rocks. Islands. Mountains.

  That’s how we see ourselves. And there’s no room in there for flower arrangements and party favors and violin music.

  Hell. A wedding comes along, dresses you in a goofy suit, sticks a flower on your lapel, puts a ring on your finger. It’s like having your nuts cut off with a blunt razor.

  It’s literally painful to watch, even when you’re not the one on the chopping block. We watch our buddies getting married and we shake our heads. “Never me,” we say. “You won’t catch me going down without a fight. I’m the lone fucking ranger. It would be a crime to hang up these spurs.”

  We watch our friends get married like they’re volunteering to be neutered. And we’re all thinking the same thing. How can he do it? How can he give up so much life, so much adventure, just to be someone’s husband? Has he lost his mind?

  And I know what you’re going to say. I’ve heard it all before.

  It’s love. Love overcomes everything. Love conquers the world. Love makes you want to spend your whole life with that one special someone, that one woman who lights up your world like a Christmas tree.

  Maybe I just don’t get it. Maybe it’s me. I mean, you see other men getting married every day and they seem happy enough. They seem to be going along willingly.

 

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