Happenstance Cover coming soon (The Order of Ravens and Wolves Book 3)

by T. L Hodel

  “Is there something wrong with that one too?” she asked, nodding at Preston.

  “That’s Preston. He’s… umm…” Terrifying, scary, possibly the antichrist or death incarnate, “Different.”

  “Uh huh.” Nan shot the boys one more glare. “Well, let’s go see your house, child.”

  Nan and Preston were not two people I ever wanted in the same room, or even on the same planet for that matter, but thankfully neither one said a word as we walked up to the front door. Preston didn’t even spare my Nan a glance. He leaned back against his red BMW and lit a smoke, leaving us to do our thing. Relieving as that was, I couldn’t help but feel like he was watching me. I wasn’t going to glance back to find out though. Preston Whitley was better left alone.

  I stared at the matching envelope hanging off the red bow decorating the door. Once again, tears welled up in my eyes. Written on the front was: Welcome home, my sweet Angel.

  “Open it,” Parker whispered in my ear.

  My gaze shifted over my shoulder to his smiling face and then back to the envelope. Why did he have to be so sweet? Then again, I could just be crying for the sake of crying. I seemed to do that a lot lately. I gingerly reached out and plucked the envelope off the door. Inside was a beautiful card with a green haired, freckled troll doll saying ‘my baby is having a baby.’

  When I opened the card, the tears really started to fall. There was a sonogram picture with the words, ‘family is everything. I can’t wait to start mine with you.’ Along with a set of keys. It was all so sweet. The only thing that confused me was the poem tucked in the envelope behind the card:

  Sing a song of sixpence,

  Hear the baby cry,

  Four and seven order members cooked up a lie,

  When the lie was forgotten,

  The ravens ceased to sing,

  Gutted by the bastard of the king of kings.

  It was signed The Piper.

  “Parker, what is–”

  The paper was torn out of my hand before I could finish speaking. Unease settled in my stomach as the dark glint in Parker’s glare grew.

  “Is something wrong?”

  He smiled down at me and passed the poem to Logan. “No baby, everything’s fine.”

  “Uh huh,” I grumbled, eyeing the shocked expression on Logan’s face.

  The fact that Preston walked up behind him was enough to tell me, everything was not fine. The poem mentioned ravens and the Order. Was it a threat? Was I in danger? Because Parker didn’t look happy. Although he was trying hard to convince me otherwise.

  My suspicion took a backseat when Parker pushed me through the door.

  “Welcome home!”

  I jumped back at the loud declaration. Standing in the most beautiful entryway, were Parker’s dad, his sister Ava, and his mother. Above them, hanging off a balcony attached to a spiral staircase, was a banner, saying ‘Welcome Home Lana.’ I couldn’t believe it. This was not something I was expecting. The whole Whitley family was here to welcome me. Well, except for Mrs. Whitley, who stood there with a scowl on her face, sipping from what looked like wine.

  I wasn’t about to let one sour puss ruin the mood, so I smiled at all of them and said, “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

  “You are family now, my dear,” Mr. Whitley proclaimed, “And we like to go above and beyond for people in this family.”

  “It’s fucking annoying,” Preston grumbled from behind me.

  My heart seized in my chest as I spun around, ready to grab Nan, but it was too late. I watched her hand whack off the back of Preston’s head in slow motion. The strike rang out like the chimes of a doomsday clock. His icy cold glare locked onto my Nan, sending a shiver down my spine. Next to come out was his gun.

  “Hit me again,” he cocked the hammer back. “I dare you.”

  The room went so quiet, I could hear my own blood pumping. Nan didn’t back down. She stood strong where she was, straightened her shoulders, and stepped in closer. Squaring off with death himself. My chest heaved with my unreleased breath.

  The only thing that broke the tense situation was the sound of Ava’s voice. “Heads up, little brother.”

  Parker barley pulled me out of the way as a knife sailed through the air and dug into the door. What the hell?

  Preston looked over at the blade, and then at his sister, while holstering his gun. “Stop calling me that.”

  “But you are my little brother,” Ava argued with a smile.

  “Three minutes hardly constitutes as little.”

  “I’m still three minutes older.”

  Preston muttered under his breath and pushed his way past us. I buried myself further in Parker’s arms, wondering if I’d just embedded myself in the Manson family, as Parker lost his shit on his sister.

  “What the fuck, Ava!” he yelled, “You could’ve stabbed her.”

  “Oh calm down, she’s fine.”

  Parker’s dad joined in the yelling. Honestly, I wasn’t surprised. Ava Whitley gave crazy a new definition. If aliens invaded the planet, they’d take one look at Ava coming down the street with a smile on her face and a can opener in her hand, and turn around and leave. I say this because I’d seen what she could do with a can opener. Poor Bobby Tompkins. I bet he missed his ball.

  “Come on, child.” Nan wrapped her arm around my shoulders and steered me away from the squabbling family. “Let’s explore your new house.”

  I glanced back at the Whitley’s hands flying through the air, and locked eyes with Lillianna. The matriarchal head of household wasn’t paying attention to the others, she was too busy glaring her hatred at me.

  Welcome home, Lana Crawford. The hellfire rains at ten.

  Chapter 16

  Lana

  Nan and I spent what felt like hours wandering the house, and I still don’t think we saw everything. The kitchen alone took forever to explore. Each room was furnished with top of the line furniture and fancy little decorations. I couldn’t help but notice the care Parker took in decorating. The paintings on the wall were of my favorite flowers, orchids, or of places on my dream vacation list. There was at least one troll doll in every room we entered, and the color scheme was made up of my favorites, Royal blue and lavender.

  What really caught my attention was the large portrait hung up in what I assumed would be the nursery. It was the only empty room in the house and was right next to the master bedroom, which was almost as big as Nan’s house. Nan and I stood there, staring at the warm brown eyes we hadn’t seen in five years. Gramps was the best man I knew. I missed him everyday.

  Nan brushed a tear off her cheek. “How did he get this?”

  My fingers grazed over his smile. I didn’t care how Parker got the picture. None of the bad mattered anymore, because the man I loved most in the world was back. I didn’t care about anything else. Gramps’ smiling face would be the first thing my children saw every morning. That was the only thing that mattered.

  “There you are.” Parker walked over and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Everybody’s leaving.”

  I turned my teary face up to him, smiled, and kissed his cheek. “I better go say goodbye then.”

  Nan didn’t join us for awhile, and I wasn’t going to interrupt her. She deserved her time alone with her husband. By the time everyone left, I was utterly exhausted. Mostly from dealing with Ava. She’d be almost out the door and turn around to talk to my belly. Telling the babies that Auntie Ava couldn’t wait to meet them.

  She was more excited than anyone else. Every time her palm flattened on my stomach, her eyes lit up. She’d already booked a company to come in and baby-proof the house, as well as marked down all the best places to shop for baby stuff. While it was kind of sweet how much she loved her future niece and nephew, getting cozy with Ava Whitley was not high on my list of things to do. A couple hours ago, the girl threw a knife at me, and that wasn’t the worst thing I could imagine her doing. Hell, I think Preston would be a better option to ch
um it up with.

  Once we were left alone, I couldn’t help but think how easy this all seemed to be. I was worried about the move. Thought I’d be a lot more stressed out than I was, but the Whitley’s made me feel oddly comfortable. And then I walked into the bedroom.

  I told myself that nothing was going to happen between us. Parker and I would be more like roommates raising our children. Parker, apparently, had other ideas. He was sprawled across the bed with his hands behind his head. My eyes immediately fell to his exposed chest. Following each dip and curve embedded in his tanned skin, down to the V dipping into his pants. Grey sweatpants, to be specific. Women’s kryptonite.

  “Alone at last.” He smirked up at me.

  Alone. That word did not sound good right now. I looked everywhere but at the half naked man. Studied the swirling carvings in the cherrywood posts on the bed. Sturdy posts that a girl could be tied to. Tied and used hard… okay, don’t look at those. My eyes fell down to the dark carpet under my feet. Thick and soft flooring that would cradle my knees… alright, carpet is a bad idea too. So was the furniture, which could easily support my weight, and the eggshell walls Parker could press me up against.

  Everything in the room sent my mind somewhere else. Decorations and pictures falling on the floor. Navy bedspread tangled up with the silky sheet underneath. I couldn’t pull my mind out of the gutter. I decided my best option was to escape to the bathroom with a big comfy pair of flannel pajamas. Which I had to get from the dresser that was a perfect height to prop me up on.

  Thankfully Parker didn’t argue when I slipped into the bathroom. He just shot me a cocky smirk as I shut the door. He knew I wasn’t going anywhere. How pathetic was it that a small part of me was grateful he allowed me privacy to change? My eyes wandered around the opulent bathroom.

  Beautiful dark blue tiles were laid across the far wall, depicting a waterfall scene. Next to that was a stand alone shower, jacuzzi tub, and his and her sinks. Other girls might’ve admired the extravagance. Maybe even been flattered that Parker obviously spared no expense. Not me. This big house with the grand expenditures only reminded me of one thing. The morning after the best night of my life. Parker threw money at me then, just like he was doing now. This place, with all the furniture and welcome home party, was only another way for him to buy me.

  I picked up one of the bottles on the counter, studying the label. Giorgio Armani, Nars, and Kevyn. All brand names I’d normally be squealing over. Except right now. All they looked like to me, were high priced bottles of bribery. I didn’t want them. I didn’t want any of this. All I wanted was my small bed and the one person who loved me beyond reproach. My Nan.

  I pushed back the tears threatening to break free and changed into my pajamas. They weren’t any of the high priced designer label stuff hanging in the closet. This red plaid fabric used to be Gramps. They were big and comfy and safe. Something I really needed to feel right now. I hugged my waist and rubbed my hands over my belly. The babies were kicking up a storm. Could they feel my anxiety?

  “Shhh,” I whispered, “It’s okay. Your daddy loves you.”

  That I never questioned. Every time Parker put his hand on my stomach, I could see it in his eyes. So much love and adoration that I couldn’t help but picture him holding our babies. It was that image that gave me the strength to walk back out into the bedroom. I opened the door and stepped through, telling myself that I was doing the right thing. Everything would be fine. I might’ve been able to hang on to that, if Parker wasn’t standing outside the door.

  “I was about to come in after you.”

  I licked my lips and forced the lump down my throat. His chest was eye level. Expanding and contracting, bringing back memories of how he felt on top of me. Remember the bottles, Lana. You can’t be bought.

  “I’m tired…”

  “And I’m hard.” He grabbed my hand and pressed my palm against his dick.

  My thighs immediately clenched together. Yes, yes he was. Very hard, very big, and very hot. Somewhere in the back of my head, I wondered how it even fit the first time? Thankfully, my mouth still had it’s senses.

  “No.”

  “No? Are you saying you don’t want me?”

  I tipped my chin and looked up into his eyes. “That’s right.”

  He pushed me back against the wall, leaned in and whispered, “Then why is your hand still on my dick?”

  Not only were my fingers still wrapped around him, but his hand wasn’t holding mine there anymore. I quickly tore my arm back, but I could still feel him there. His hard length still twitching in my grasp. My body ached, wanting to feel him in other places. Have his breath warm my skin as he pumped into me.

  You’re not his whore, Lana.

  “I’m going to bed, Parker.” My hands fisted at my sides. “Be glad I’m sticking to our arrangement and sleeping in the same one as you.”

  I thought he’d stop me and remind me of the bouncing on his dick clause. He didn’t. Parker let me storm past him and crawl into bed. Gotta say, out of all the places I’d slept, this was by far the most comfortable. The mattress wrapped around me in a silky cocoon, cradling my body.

  “If you want to play this game, Angel, that’s fine,” Parker chuckled and joined me. I barely had time to enjoy the comfort before he pulled me into him and softly growled in my ear, “But you’ll lose.”

  As the warmth of his body seeped into my bones, the pit in my stomach fell deeper and deeper down. Because the man rubbing my back, lulling me into a relaxed slumber, was the same one from that night. The Parker Whitley that made me fall in love with him and broke my heart in the span of twelve hours.

  My body was on fire, I needed something, but I didn’t know what.

  “That’s it, baby,” a husky voice growled in my ear.

  Parker! He could give me what I needed.

  “Yes.” I moaned and arched back, loving the feel of his hard body against mine.

  My mind honed in on his fingertips smoothing across my fevered skin. Slowly dipping lower and lower, closer to the aching apex between my thighs. I reached back, burrowing my fingers in his soft hair, silently begging for something my voice couldn’t articulate. But Parker knew what I wanted. He knew how to answer my body’s desperation.

  A long groan escaped my mouth as his lips latched onto me. His tongue worked a hot, wet trail up the side of my neck, but he still wasn’t giving me what I needed. His hand toyed with the waistband of my pajamas, refusing to dip inside and relieve the need throbbing through my clit.

  “Please,” I whimpered, arching my hips and grinding my ass against his erection.

  Parker released a masculine groan that had my blood boiling. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

  His hand slipped under my pants, stealing my ability to think. All I could do in response was fold myself back against him and moan, “More.”

  “More what?” His breath wafted over the shell of my ear, sending shivers of anticipation down my spine.

  Why was he teasing me? “I need it.”

  “What do you need?” His fingers gripped my hip, pressing my ass back into his hard cock, “My dick?”

  Yes, yes, give me that.

  But his hand let me go. My lips curled in a frown as a pathetic sound of desperation slipped past my parted lips. Parker forced his hand between my clenched thighs and slid his finger through my folds. “Or do you want my fingers?”

  He pressed down on my clit, making me call out a desperate, “Yes!”

  “You’re so fucking beautiful.” The growl he released in response vibrated through my very soul. He worked me expertly, pinching and swirling my aching bundle of nerves, applying the pressure my body craved. “I’m gonna make you come so hard, Angel. But you have to be a good girl for me.” His hand wrapped around my neck, holding me firmly against him. “Can you do that for me?”

  I nodded. Parker could do whatever he wanted. Hold me, bite me, choke me, as long as he kept doing what he was doing.

&nbs
p; “That’s right, baby, give in.” His finger pushed in my opening, hitting a spot that made me scream his name.

  That’s when he really finger-fucked me. Thrusting roughly in and out, hitting that sinful spot, over and over and over again. White hot sparks of ecstasy exploded behind my closed lids as a wave of pure pleasure stole my breath. I clung to him, riding out the most intense orgasm I’d ever had. My inner walls clenched tightly to his fingers as an extreme gush of wetness soaked through my pants. That’s when I realized I couldn’t just feel him, I could smell him.

  I wasn’t dreaming!

  “Fuck,” Parker grunted in a deeply masculine tone, “I knew you were a squirter. I can’t wait to feel you soak my cock.”

  While my body was completely and utterly satisfied, my mind was stunned. What just happened?

  “I-I-I-I,” I stammered, staring up at his grey eyes, filled with dark desire.

  His fingers were still in my pussy, slowly stroking my wet walls, and I was too hazed from my orgasm to push him away. I knew I should, but it felt so good, and it’d been so long since I felt this way. Loved and cared about in the most intimate way. I liked it.

  You shouldn’t.

  I couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but watch as Parker pulled his hand out of my pants, smeared my juices over my lips and gave me a breath stealing kiss. It was so powerful that I actually sank into it, letting him control me with his mouth. Until I tasted something else. Something sweet, with a musky undertone. Me! My senses hit me like a freight train, knocking me back into harsh reality.

  I tore my lips away from Parker’s hot mouth and growled, “I’m not your whore, Parker.”

  “No, you’re my wife.”

  “What?! No I’m not!” As if I’d marry Parker Whitley!

  “Do you know all it takes to be legally married, is a signed marriage certificate?” My heart stopped at the way his lips curled. “You should really read what you sign.”

  He wouldn’t. I could tell myself that all I wanted, but deep down, I knew, he would.