by Hart, Lane
I reluctantly let Hope go, and giving her a second to recover, I squat down to get eye level, offering my hand to the red headed boy that's stepped forward. "Hey, I didn't get to introduce myself earlier. I'm Eric and I'm a friend of your mom's."
He looks up at his mom, and only after she nods, does he place his tiny hand in mine. "What's your name?" I ask him.
Again he gets permission from her before answering. "Noah."
"Noah? Like the man who built the ark?"
He nods enthusiastically and smiles. "He had two of every animal!"
"Is that right? What's your favorite animal?"
"Dinosaurs."
I smile at his response and don't even consider breaking his heart by telling him they're extinct. "Well, mine is the lion," I tell him, pointing to the huge Coughlin Coat of Arms hanging on the wall. The one with a silver knight's helmet at the top and three identical red lions with gold crowns above their heads running down the center.
"Lions go raar," the little boy says.
"They sure do." I laugh and shift my attention to the carbon copy boy behind him, wearing a tattered blue shirt instead of green to tell them apart.
"And what's your name?" I ask, offering my hand which he takes.
"Riley."
"It’s nice to meet you, Riley." Unlike his brother his eyes never drift to his mom's for permission.
"Is this your house?" he asks me.
"Yeah, it is."
"Do you have any cookies?"
I laugh at his random question and look over my shoulder to his mom for permission. Hope nods her consent.
"Charles?" I call out.
The obliging butler appears in the doorway right away. "Yes, sir?" he asks.
"Could you please take Noah and Riley to the kitchen and try to find some milk and cookies?"
"Ah, yes, sir," he says, sounding uncomfortable with the babysitting chore. Too bad.
Riley is ready to go, but Hope has to give Noah a little nudge on the back to get his feet moving forward. The search for sweets is finally enough for them to be led away from their mother.
"Do you know any more about Kayla? Is she going to be okay?" Hope asks as soon as the boys are out of earshot. "The guard who brought the boys just said they were taking her to the hospital."
"I haven't heard, but I'll let you know if I do," I assure her. “Feel free to call the hospital on the house phone to see if they’ll give you any updates.”
"I'm sorry I had to bother you with all this," she says with her arms wrapped protectively around herself.
"No, I'm sorry that you got dragged into the war Drake's waging on me. It was my fault they hurt you last night. I hate seeing those marks on you." I reach for her neck that's full of harsh wounds left from fangs. "How many times did he bite you?"
Her eyes lower when she blushes. Hell I know from experience how good a vampire's bite can feel, and there's no reason she should be embarrassed or guilty about biology. It's so damn good that it's not all that uncommon to hear of both men and women becoming venom addicts, paying vampires to bite them instead of the other way around for the orgasmic high.
"They struck me so many times that I blacked out after the fourth or fifth time."
"They?" I exclaim.
"Drake and Simon."
Oh hell. My stomach heaves viciously as I wonder if they fucked her, too. I can't even bring myself to ask. Based on her profession, I’m pretty sure I already know the answer. I'm angry enough as it is without hearing the details about that shit.
"Drake is supposed to be dead. I warned Simon that if he saw Drake again, he was to kill him on sight," I tell her as I pace across the foyer, trying to calm my rising blood pressure. Ah fuck, now that I think about it, I told Simon what to do but didn’t give him the alpha order. I need to figure this dominance shit out and get it right. "Thank you for coming to me instead of letting them ambush me. I need to strengthen my security and send a team out to track them down." Hell, I need to call on the entire army. "I should've known this shit would start. Fucking vampires are always looking to break free."
"I can't go back," Hope says, interrupting my tirade. "To Heaven or to our apartment. I won't risk losing the boys again. I'm...I'm sorry, but I didn't know where else to go."
"You'll all stay here. I'll add more manpower and surveillance to the grounds. You'll be safe."
The fact that she'll no longer be whoring herself out to any man with a few dollars shouldn't make me as happy as it does. Nor should the thought of her staying here. The idea actually has me more excited than I've been about anything in a long time, and I'm not just referring to my cock.
"If you let us stay here, it won't be for free," she says, crossing her arms over her chest. "You've done enough for us as it is. So if you need, um, someone to cook or clean-"
"No," I say right away. Thinking about her doing either job seems too demeaning. The irony of that notion isn't lost on me.
"Eric, I'm not a pity case."
"You know I have more than enough money, and the house has plenty of room with eleven guest beds."
"Still," she says, shaking her head. "I owe you for bringing my boys back to me. I can't and won't take anymore handouts."
"Fine." I cave and decide to finally ask for what I want. It's so wrong, in more ways than I can count, but right now when it feels like my life is in complete chaos, I need her anchoring me. There's something about being with her that makes me forget everything else, at least for a little while. "I want you to be my paramour."
"Okay." She doesn't even flinch at my request.
"Day or night, when I say the word you'll fuck me?"
"Yes, but the boys...I can't just-"
"I know that, Hope, and I wouldn't dare," I assure her. I may not have any experience with kids, but I know better than to ever touch her again in front of them. "Marjorie's been working here since I was born, mostly cooking and running errands nowadays. She's great, and I'm sure she would love to keep an eye on them while you're with me."
"I want to meet her and talk to her first," Hope says, making me smile at her protectiveness.
"Sure. I'll tell her to have dinner with us tonight, and afterwards...if you approve of her..."
"You want me to fuck you?"
"Yes." Hell yes. I barely contain my groan, picturing her in my bed underneath me, above me, on her knees. Fuck, now I want to throw her down right here on the floor and have my way with her.
"For how long?" she asks.
"A few hours." All goddamn night. "However long it takes."
"No, I mean how long do you think we'll need to stay?"
Of course that's what she meant, and my dirty mind was somewhere else entirely.
"Until Bron Drake's dead. Simon, too," I tell her. There's no way she's leaving my sight until those fuckers are gone. When they find out she's no longer working because she came to me and that I've killed four vampires, they'll come after her and her boys with everything they've got. And I'm in no rush to see her go.
She nods her agreement, her expression not the least bit surprised or upset about their soon to be murders. When the choice is them or her and her sons, I know which we'd both choose every time.
"There's something else...I could be completely wrong, but I wanted to make sure you knew..."
"What is it?" I ask.
Hope hesitates, lowering her eyes and fidgeting with the unraveling hem of her sweater. "Is it true that your dad was with a, ah, an Angel the night he...you know?"
"Yes, unfortunately." I sigh and stab my fingers through my hair in embarrassment. After my father killed my mother, he never remarried. He preferred to just fuck younger women, usually prostitutes, to pass the time.
"Do you think it's a coincidence that a vampire drained her the night before last?"
"Wait...what? You're sure? It was the same girl that was with my father?" I ask, completely stunned.
"Yeah. Last week I heard Brooke mention...what, um, happened to him. She's also t
he one the vampire drained the other night."
"You think he was murdered?" Son of a bitch! The thought never even crossed my mind, but it makes perfect sense. Get rid of him and me and...well, then there's no one else left. The Coughlin reign comes to an end and someone else takes over. It was the fucking vampires. I'm certain of it now, with Drake orchestrating the entire thing since Simon told me he killed the girl.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to jump to any conclusions, but then last night that vampire wanted to know if you'd asked me anything about your dad's death. I thought it was strange, but now..."
"You're right. It's something to look into. Thank you. If you hadn't said anything...shit, I need to have my father exhumed and another independent autopsy done. One that'll be kept confidential until we know more."
"Hopefully that will give you some answers. But why would someone want to kill him?" she asks.
"I'm the sole surviving Coughlin heir," I say, without further elaboration.
"Oh. Then you should probably be careful, too."
"I will. That's what the security is for. I just didn't consider that my father was targeted. He was older and rather promiscuous, so I assumed... Anyway, I'll get you some rooms ready, or do you want to share a room with the boys?"
"A room next to them is fine. They like to sleep together—always have since they were born," she says with a small smile, probably remembering their closeness when they were infants.
"They're identical?"
"Yeah."
"Where's their father?" I can't help but ask. The bastard should be taking care of them, helping support her so that she doesn't have to be a fucking whore to feed them. "Worthless deadbeat?"
"No," she says quickly, shaking her head, and pushing a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear as her face reddens. "He-he doesn't know about them."
"Why the hell not?" I snap incredulously.
"Because he wouldn't want them. Or me. And we don't need him coming and going, hurting the boys after they get attached," she says, squaring her narrow shoulders defensively.
"If you say so," I concede, knowing its complete bullshit. "Are they the reason you dropped out of school?"
She nods and exhales a heavy sigh. "It's hard to go to school when you have to work as many shifts as you can pick up even after being up all night wearing holes in the carpet trying to console two screaming babies with colic."
"I'm sorry," I tell her. "I honestly can't imagine how tough that must’ve been for you."
"We got through it," she says with a shrug, avoiding eye contact. "Kayla watches them at night for me while I work. God, I hope she's going to be okay because I don't know what I'd do without her. She's not just my best friend, but she’s been like a sister to me for thirteen years."
This woman is tough, stronger than I originally gave her credit for. Some would say she's a horrible mother for working at a brothel. I say that it just shows how amazing she is, that she's willing to do anything to take care of her boys and make sure they have what they need.
"You're a good mother, and I hope that one day your sons will appreciate everything you've done for them."
Her mouth falls open and she blinks wide, watery green eyes at me. It takes a second before she recovers. "Um, thanks, Eric. That means a lot. And thank you for letting us stay here."
…
Hope
After Eric leaves to get back to work, wherever that is, I go in search of the boys. I don't like letting them out of sight after last night, and now suspecting the same vampires murdered Eric's father and Brooke, I’m even more concerned. We're safer here than probably anywhere based on all the men with guns at the front gate, out in the yard, and at the door, but I still worry about Noah and Riley.
Walking down the hall, I see the familiar alcove. The one with a bookcase that leads to a small, secret room. I run my fingers over a few of the leather spines, thinking about how much I've changed since that night, Eric too. He doesn’t seem like the same, easy going, and cocky man from that night. And I'm no longer the happy-go-lucky girl with dreams and ambitions to get out of this town and start a career. Now I'm a mother, who struggled with extra waitressing shifts to earn enough money to make ends meet and became a whore when it wasn't enough.
Taking a rain check on my own pity party, I keep going through the winding maze of the mansion and finally find the twins. Born premature and still small for their age, they look so damn tiny sitting in elegant high back chairs at a long formal cherry wood dining room table that can seat at least twenty. The older, white-haired man in a brown suit stands at the head of the table, reminding me of Alfred. I almost giggle when I think how fitting that is, remembering Eric dressed as Batman all those years ago.
No, I believe Eric said this man’s name is Charles.
"Have they been behaving, Charles?" I ask, and he blinks up at me in surprise, maybe because I remembered his name. Or more likely because he's not used to visitors as poor and lowly as us in their elegant mansion.
"Yes, ma'am. On their best behavior," he says with a friendly smile.
Riley’s dipping his cookie in a glass of milk so fancy it probably costs a week's pay. Noah’s breaking his cookie up into tiny pieces and tossing them in his glass. The relief of seeing them safe and happy is almost too much to handle. When the room spins around me I grab the back of the chair closest to me and take a seat. Stupid vampires.
"Is there anything I can get you, ma'am?" Charles asks.
"No thank you. I'm fine."
"Very well. Call if you need anything," he says before leaving us alone in the room.
"Mommy, why are we here?" Riley asks. "When can we go home?"
"I don't know. We're gonna stay here with Eric for a little while, you know, like a sleepover. I need you two to be on your best behavior. Be nice to everyone and be careful not to break anything, okay?"
They both nod their agreement.
"I want my cars. Where are my cars?" Noah asks, causing me to blink back tears.
"I'm sorry, sweetie, but I didn't have time to pack them. We'll get you some more soon, okay?"
"What do they have to play with here?" Riley asks.
Probably nothing. It doesn't look like this place has ever seen any children before. "I bet they have paper you can draw and write on. Maybe make some paper airplanes?"
"Yeah! I wanna make a plane!" Noah exclaims.
"Are you finished eating your snack?"
They both nod simultaneously and guzzle the rest of their milk like it's the best tasting thing in the world. It's probably regular whole milk. I usually have to water ours down a little to make it last longer. Taking their plates and glasses they follow me to the kitchen where I wash and dry the dishes before opening a few cabinets to figure out where to put them away.
In the hallway heading back toward the front door, I see Charles again. "Charles, would it be much trouble to get some paper for the boys? Any kind will do."
"Of course not. I'll be right back," he says before moving farther into the house and down a different hallway. I don't know if I'll ever find my way around the enormous structure.
Glancing around, I see the balcony and can't help but remember the night Batman watched me. I had no idea I'd end up back here less than five years later. I never expected to see Eric again, much less learn that he's Frederick Coughlin III, rich heir to who knows what exactly.
After Charles brings back a stack of copy paper the boys go to work building a whole squadron of planes in what Charles referred to as the sitting room. It looks like an extravagant living room to me, one with red velvet furniture trimmed in gold and what’s likely original oil paintings of lions and regal men and women hanging on the walls. At least it has a TV, albeit a huge, widescreen one mounted on the wall, so I let the boys put on Cartoon Network.
An hour or so later, two of the military looking men identical to the ones out front come into the room without a word. One goes to stand in front of the bay window while the other stan
ds at attention in the doorway. Now that I think about it, they also look just like the men that came in with guns on that Halloween night.
"Um, are we under arrest?" I half-joke with them.
The younger man dressed in all black fatigues by the door smiles. "No, ma'am. Mr. Coughlin ordered us here as a heightened security measure."
"Is that a gun?" Riley asks as he walks up to the guard, pointing to his hip holster.
"Yes, little sir, it is. You know you shouldn't ever touch one because they're very dangerous, right?"
"Yes, sir," Riley replies, straightening his back to stand up taller and look tougher, at not much more than his grand total of three feet of height. "Do you know how to use it?"
"I do," the guard says, looking over at me with a grin in amusement.
"Riley, let's leave the gentleman alone now."
"I want to fly my plane up high!" Noah whines.
"Me, too, me, too!" Riley joins in.
"You guys think they could drop planes from the second story balcony?" I ask the guards.
"Sure, why not?" the door guy says with a shrug.
We collect their dozen or so planes and then they run up the staircase with me and the guards behind them. I get the feeling they'll be on us like white on rice while we're here. Do they think I'm a thief? That I'll steal something? Is that why they're supposed to keep an eye on us? The thought that Eric doesn't trust me stings, but what can I expect? When a whore randomly shows up at your door, looking for a place to stay with her kids that probably screams stereotypical gold digger.
The twins' planes start getting launched through the slats, and despite my constant shushing, the boys' squeals of delight get louder with each one as they watch them soar through the air before finally hitting the ground floor. When Eric wanders into the front room I worry we've been too loud. Then Noah's recently dropped plane swerves for a direct hit to the center of his chest.
I lean over the railing. "Oops. I'm so sorry, Eric."
"It's fine." He laughs. With everything going on earlier, I didn't have a chance to truly appreciate his gorgeousness through my tears. Today's the first time I've really seen his face without a mask or in a dark room. His wavy, chestnut colored hair is the same chin length it was years ago. With his smooth, chiseled jaw, lips made for kissing, and ocean blue eyes I could drown in, he's perfection. "They sound like they're having fun."
