by Kacey Shea
“Fucker,” I bite out. “Did he do that to you?”
She nods. “Yeah, but honestly, it doesn’t hurt that bad.”
I sit back on my heels. “No!” she almost shouts. “Don’t stop.” I have to grin.
“I won’t, but I’ll be right back.” I stand up from the bed. Before I leave the room I slide off her shoes, one at a time, then socks, and pull at her pant legs until she’s left in nothing but black panties and a matching bra. She watches me from where she lays propped up on her elbows.
“That’s better. Stay here.” I walk to the bathroom and pull out my first aid kit, along with a few condoms from beneath the sink. I wet a clean hand towel and walk back. Carly waiting for me in just her underwear sparks something possessive and hungry inside. I want her always.
“You’re gorgeous. You know that.”
She laughs and studies me as I sit back onto the bed. “Derek, I’m bleeding.” She rolls her eyes and I chuckle.
“Were bleeding. I think it’s pretty much dried up.” I wipe at the skin and gently clean her. Rage boils within, threatening to ruin this moment, and I have to swallow it down. I won’t let her ex get away with this. But I’m not letting him take one more damn minute of her time. Of our precious time together. I plan to make love to her and then make sure Jon sends his ass back to prison where he belongs.
“Look who’s playing naughty nurse now?” Carly teases and I grin as I secure a Band Aid across her cut. She reaches out and grips my erection in her hand and I clench my teeth. God damn that feels so good. “I want to suck you.” Her thumb rubs over the tip, rolling my PA piercing. “I like this.” She pants. I swear under my breath.
“Is that okay? Did it hurt when you had it done?” she says softly and I groan. She really is my closet vixen. She can do anything and everything she wants.
“Didn’t hurt that bad and the extra stimulation is . . . fuck!” I swear and blow out a breath. “You take the lead, mama.”
Carly smiles and pushes me onto my back. She scoots down the bed and I reach over to my music dock to press play. Thankfully the mix I had on earlier fits the moment. I’m not sure I can remember how to operate the damn thing to change selections.
Carly peels off her underwear and kneels between my legs. She licks up and down my dick like it’s a damn lollipop, looking up at me with those big green eyes. I try to keep her gaze but when she goes to cup my balls and suck me deep inside her mouth I throw my head back and squeeze my eyes closed.
If she keeps this up I’m going to embarrass myself like a pubescent teen. This is what she does to me. Picking through my brain I try to focus on something else to wane my erection. Puppies. Kids. Kids playing with puppies. Damn it. Now I feel wrong all over.
I sit up and pull Carly from my lap, flipping her onto her back.
“Hey!” she chides playfully. “You said I could lead.”
“Change of plans. My turn.” I kiss her once and dip my head straight between her legs. She gives a squeal and I spread her legs wide open, holding her down with my forearms so I can get my fill. I lick, suck, taste, and tease until she’s a mess of moans, hips bucking, and curses flowing. I can feel her trying to fight it, to hold back.
“I want you to come on my face,” I say, and then lick her hard and flick my metal stud over her clit until she finally screams out, body shaking and gives me what I need. I suck the flow of juices before I release her legs to move up her panting body.
Her face glistens with sweat. A few wayward strands of hair stick to her face, and she’s never looked more beautiful to me. Completely undone. Totally bare.
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you, too,” she whispers back.
Our lips meet again and she pushes me, rolling me to my back so she can straddle my hips.
“My turn again.” She grins and the look on her face steals my breath. Beautiful. She unwraps one of the condoms and covers my erection. She lifts and then slides down onto my cock. Fuck, yes. I love being inside her. I let her lead as promised but allow my hands to trace patterns on her hips and thighs. She rocks back and forth, over and down, quickening her pace. My hands go to her breasts to squeeze and pull at her nipples.
“Oh, yes, do that,” she says on a breath and I continue playing with her tits as she rides me. I hold out as long as I can, but she’s too tight, too wet, too much.
“I’m gonna come,” I say, and she grinds down harder, moaning and gasping. I grab her hips and thrust up, matching her rhythm and she squeezes my dick as she orgasms. She yells my name and it sets me off. I hold her tight and capture her lips as my seed fills the rubber barrier.
“Oh, fuck.”
Oh, fuck is right. This woman owns me, body, mind, and soul, and I’m overjoyed. Everything in this moment is perfect and my heart taps to a beat that matches hers. My home.
DEREK’S PHONE RINGS FROM THE other room. He kisses my lips and hops up from the bed. “I should get that,” he says, and glances down to add, “And take care of this.” He removes the condom and walks out of the room naked as the day he was born.
I study his retreating backside like it’s an exam I’m required to pass until he disappears from sight. I wait for the familiar feelings of disappointment, guilt, and shame to wash over me given what I’ve just done, but none come. Only joy, contentment, and the feeling of being totally fucked. In the best way possible, of course.
I roll to my stomach and lay my head on the messed blankets. My eyes flutter shut and I breathe in the scent of sex that still clings to the fabric. The muffled sound of Derek’s conversation floats from the other room and reality crashes down. The familiar knot in my gut coils with apprehension.
My boys are safe for now but I need to get Josh out of our lives. He’s capable of anything and I don’t know how far he’ll go. If he wants the gun—if that’s what it takes for him to leave us alone—that’s what I’ll do. My mind drifts and remembers that horrible night.
I’ve been driving in circles. Where do I go? What do I do? I could try and go to the cops, but what do I even really know? My husband’s committed some crime, I’m sure, and yet I have no details. And if he finds out what I’ve done? My stomach rolls at the thought.
Eli and Ezra are home with him now and Josh is high, paranoid, and sketchy. Every second that ticks by, they’re in potential danger.
I don’t even realize I’ve pulled the car to a stop. My eyes flick up to the church courtyard. The lighted steeple calls me like a beacon and I step out of my car. The door closes with an echoing slam.
My feet drag up the paved walkway, the gun tucked close to my side. I pull at the large wooden door framed in colored glass, and shake my head when it won’t open. Stupid. Why I even imagined it would at four in the morning is beyond me? I’m not thinking. I’m so lost. This life, the one I’m living, is just an existence. My chin trembles and I bite back a sob.
My eyes catch a swaying tree branch around the bend of the building. It waves me over. Beckons me. My feet move of their own accord. The tree is rooted inside its own little fence. A sign reads, “Garden of Forgiveness” and I fall to the bench.
I’ve never been a religious person, but in this moment it feels as if the universe has led me here. To this one spot. For a purpose.
I cry loud, ugly sobs, and give in to the pain that holds the ties that bind my heart. I apologize. For what I don’t know, but I’m sorry all the same. And I make a vow to do whatever it takes to raise my boys right. To get them out of this life. Even if it means I don’t escape.
When my tears are all cried a peace settles around my very being. A little of the burden I carry releases. I stand from the bench and that’s when my eyes notice the planters. There are three. All at the edge of the garden and built into the earth. Two are filled with soil and dirt. Next to the third lies a pile of dirt, two bags of potting soil, and a dozen plants.
What if? The idea pops into my head and I don’t stop to analyze if it’s a good plan or not. I just drop to my
knees and lay the plastic wrapped gun into the empty planter. With only my hands I cover it with dirt, handful by handful. I bury the gun, my husband’s sin. I bury my own self-hate. I bury the sadness. I bury the hopelessness.
When dirt fills the bottom layer I add the plants and soil, mimicking the design of the other two. Not wanting to draw attention or question to what I’ve done, I stack the empty plastic nursery pots and stuff them with the now empty soil bags to take with me. I stand back and admire my work. It looks as if the garden has always been this way. I offer a silent prayer this will work and jog back to my car.
“Carly.” Derek comes back into the bedroom. He’s put on a pair of pants and I fight the need to pout. His eyes drift over my naked skin and his lips pull into a grin. He shoves his cell into his back pocket and strides to the edge of the bed. Dropping to his knees, he drags his fingertips across the skin from my shoulder to my ass. “We just got the all clear to head home . . . but I wouldn’t argue if you wanted to stay here . . . a few more hours.”
I smile and bury my head into his pillow with a groan.
“While that sounds amazing, I really want to see my boys.”
“I thought you might say that.” He gives my butt a playful slap. “Come on, mama. Let’s get you home.” I pull myself up off the bed and try not to feel embarrassed as he continues to watch my every move.
“Don’t watch me get dressed!” I demand, but Derek just grins.
“I’m never gonna stop watching you.”
We make the short drive to Tate’s house and each mile solidifies what I have to do. I need to retrieve the gun. I need Josh to go away. I need to be free of my past so I can move forward. I’ll have to make up an excuse to run an errand later. I just pray it’s still there.
“Jon’s bringing your car back to the house. Tate’s bringing the boys.” Derek says after a glance down at his phone. I breathe a sigh of relief. This will all be over soon. I can feel it.
We pull alongside the sidewalk in front of Tate’s house and I step down from the Yukon. Derek jogs around and laces our fingers together so we can walk up the driveway hand in hand. God, I love this man. I’m not sure how we’ll make a relationship work, but I’m willing to try. Fast steps and heavy breaths catch my attention and I turn just in time to spot Josh barreling across the front lawn.
“Oh, great! Lover boy is still here.” Josh cackles, a wild look in his eye. His irises are wide. Fuck. He’s high. Josh pulls a knife from his pocket and flicks the blade open with a resounding click.
“Josh. You need to go.” I speak even and firm. Derek yanks me to stand behind him, and uses his body as a shield.
“I need the gun, Carly. I’m not leaving without it! I won’t be blackmailed. I’m not going back to the big house. I won’t do it! You can’t make me!” With every word his voice grows louder and he steps closer. Derek matches his movement, backing us up until I’m pinned against the house.
“Mama. You gotta run,” Derek whispers and then declares loudly, “Hey, asshole, anyone ever tell you not to bring a knife to a gun fight?”
Josh’s face puzzles a moment and Derek circles his arm to flex his bicep. Really?
“Carly, run!” Derek shouts and I realize he’s only trying to cause a distraction. Derek charges Josh and I sprint toward the door off the garage. Grunts, curses, and shouts fill my ears and I can’t tell who’s winning by the sounds. I get my key in the door and swing it open only to slam and lock it behind me.
My hands tremble as I unlock my cell and dial Jon.
“Hey, we’re like five minutes away.” He answers cheerfully.
“Jon!” I scream into the phone. “It’s Josh! My ex! He’s here!”
“Where are you? Are you safe? Damn it!” The acceleration of the car fills the line.
“I’m inside the house. At Tate’s. Derek’s out there. Josh has a knife. He’s high.” I choke out the words; terror and fear fill my mind.
“I’m almost there, Carly. Hang tight. I’m calling the police. Do not go outside.” The line goes dead and a bang sounds from the front, the window rattles followed by a loud grunt. I should stay back here but I have to know that Derek’s okay. I go to the window and pull back the curtain edge to peek outside.
What I see next fills my lungs with a scream. Derek is on the ground hunched over and covering his head with his hands. Crimson stains his shirt and I can’t tell who’s bleeding where. Josh’s face is covered in blood, and one eye’s swelled so it’s almost shut. He stands over Derek and kicks at his waist over and over again.
“No!” I scream, and Josh’s gaze snaps to the window. His lips pull wide into a manic smile. The blood that smears his face makes him look like a character from a horror film. Josh spits on Derek and takes a step toward the house. It’s then I notice Derek’s gone limp. His head lolls to the side, his eyes are shut, and his hands rest awkwardly at each side.
Josh glares at me but stops moving toward the house. He laughs, a crazy screeching sound, and lifts one booted foot high in the air before it stomps down on Derek’s right hand.
“No!” I scream again. Josh walks in a lazy gait toward the house, but behind him Jon’s truck turns onto the street. Tires squeal and the truck barrels over the neighbor’s lawn before Jon parks haphazardly across our driveway and lawn. He bounds from the vehicle, gun trained on Josh.
Thank God.
My gaze goes fuzzy and my legs wobble before everything goes black.
“AND THEN I SAID, ‘HEY asshole, anyone ever tell you not to bring a knife to a gun fight.’” My bandmates gather around the small hospital room and hang on my every word.
“The fuck? No you didn’t!” Austin laughs.
“Oh, but he did. And then he flexed his biceps. I can vouch; I was there.” Carly saunters in the room and ignores my friends to stand at my side. She leans over and kisses me softly. “How’s my favorite patient?”
I chuckle and the door clicks. “Hey, I thought I was your favorite patient.” My gaze snaps to my most recent visitor.
“Luis.” I grin.
He walks slow and steady. It could be my own pain meds, but he looks stronger and healthier than when we FaceTimed last week. Trent stands and offers him his chair.
“Dude. You’re a certified badass.” Sean nods his approval at my retelling of my attempt at taking on Carly’s ex. The truth is, that was the scariest experience of my life. I’m no fighter, and Josh, well, he had me from the start. A kid from the wrong side of the law grown into a man with hard time under his belt. I never stood a chance. I only hoped I could hold him back long enough to keep my girl safe. She scoots to sit on the edge of my bed and I wind my good hand around her back to pull her closer.
“I’m not sure you can call me that.” I laugh.
Trent’s expression goes serious, a rarity for him, and he nods my way. “I’m sorry your hand’s messed up. You sure you won’t be able to go on tour?”
I glance down at my right hand, which is wrapped in a cast for now. I’ve been in the hospital for four days. My concussion and the possibility of internal bleeding were the reason for the first few days. Meetings with the surgeons and rehab specialists delayed my exit. I’m scheduled to be released in the morning and I can’t wait. “Nah, man, I’ll be lucky if this comes off before Christmas. And then I’ll need time to get my strength and mobility back.”
Trent nods, apprehension clear in his eyes. “But you will? Be able to play again? I’m not being selfish about the band—we’ll find a replacement for as long as you need—but playing and writing, it’s what you do.”
“Yeah. Docs see no reason I won’t regain full movement with time and work.” I pat Carly’s hip. “A small price to pay for the safety of my girl.”
“I love you,” she murmurs and I kiss her lips. I only pull away because of our audience.
“I hope that fucker goes back to jail for life,” Trent adds and then glances down at Luis. “Oh, sorry. I mean jerk.”
Carly nods. “He won’t
be able to hurt us again. He’s behind bars, if not for life, then for a very long time. In addition to the charges we’ll press for the attack, there’s also the gun.”
At the band’s confused expressions Carly continues, “That’s the main reason my ex came back. He had me hide a gun years ago, when we were still married. The police suspect it was used in several drug related murders. They’re running it against a bunch of local cold cases.” She shivers and I rub my hand up and down her arm.
“I should’ve brought the gun in sooner. I was just so scared and trying to move on.” She feels guilty for keeping the weapon a secret. Blames that for the reason Josh hurt me, but I’m glad for it. I suspect he’d have come back regardless. Everything Carly did brought us to this place, and I’d do it again to keep her safe.
“Good.” Austin nods. “We should probably head out now.” The rest of the guys take his lead and offer waves on their way out the door.
“Dude. That was awesome,” Luis says with awe laced in his tone. “I just hung out with the entire band of 3UG.”
Carly laughs and stands from the bed to give Luis a hug. “I’m going to give you two time to chat. I’ve got to check in with my boys anyway.” She’s been too good to me, arranging for childcare each night to stay by my side. Another reason I can’t wait to get out of here. Eli and Ezra need her as much as I do. It’ll be easier to rehab from home.
Luis stands and comes closer to my bed to take the seat to my left. “So . . . the tables have turned. Who would’ve thought I’d be visiting you in the hospital.” He grins and I laugh.
“True, man. So very true. So, how are things?”
He looks down at his shoes and taps his fingers over his knees in a steady beat. My eyes light up.
“You’ve been practicing?”
“Hell, yes.” He grins. I memorize the way his eyes catch the light, the happiness they contain, the way they almost dance with his smile.
“Good. Keep at it. You’re a natural.” He looks away with a shrug but his lips pull up at the corners. The silence stretches.
