by K. Webster
“Do you think he’s hurt other women?”
I think about all the stories Dad told me recently about their past. Gabe was more than a villain. He was psychopathic and predatory. Dad told me about the other women he “trained.” Something tells me that Brie doesn’t need the image of her dad tarnished further. She has enough going on in her head right now.
“I’m not sure,” I lie. “But all that matters now is that he’s trying to be a better person. He’s good to my sister, even though she doesn’t deserve it. And he loves you and Toto with everything he has. I’m not saying he’s a good man,” I tell her with a sigh. “But I’m not saying he’s completely bad either. He’s still your dad no matter what he’s done or no matter what he will do.”
She nods and lifts her chin. “Thank you.”
Smirking, I nuzzle her nose with mine. “For what? For this morning? I can still taste your sweet cunt on my lips.”
A squeal erupts from her and she shoves me, but a grin turns her full lips up. “No, punk. Thank you for being my friend. I mean, you’re more than a friend because we practically live together, but you know what I mean. Thank you for being a friend and a lover. Thank you for being you.”
I snag her wrist and haul her into my arms. Twisting her so her back is flush against my chest, I splay both palms on her much fuller stomach. Next week, we get to find out the sex. “One day I’m going to be more than just a friendly lover,” I murmur against her hair. “One day I’m going to be so much more, Momma.”
She relaxes against me, and I kiss her neck. The front door opens and Calder steps out with his hands on his hips. He’s not wearing a shirt, no surprise there, but he’s wearing a stupid apron that says “Kiss the Cook” on it.
“Everyone’s waiting to eat while you guys practically fuck on the front porch,” he chides. “Seriously. If my mashed potatoes get cold, so help me, I’m going to kick your ass.”
Brie laughs and pulls away from my grip. She gives Calder a kiss on the cheek before going inside.
“You’re more of a woman than Martha Stewart is,” I tell him with a smirk.
“Laugh it up now, fucker,” he grumbles. “You won’t be laughing when you come in your pants after you taste those mashed potatoes.”
“Make your own gravy?” I taunt to get a reaction out of him.
When he gags, I snort with laughter.
The punch to my gut was worth the look of pure horror on his face.
A BOY AND A girl.
I’m still in shock. Two healthy little babies according to the sonogram. The moment was bittersweet. Duvan wasn’t there to share it with me but Ren was. And despite not being the father, he was thrilled.
“Any word from Oscar?” Ren questions from the doorway of what will be the nursery. We’ve still yet to decorate it. The only thing I’ve bought so far is a glider. Sometimes, I sit in here for hours. Especially when Ren is distracted with his online courses. It relaxes me. In a way, I feel closer to Duvan in these quiet moments while I absently stroke his ring, which hangs at the base of my throat. Just his memory, our babies, and the quietness. During those times, we’re the family that we’ll never truly get to be.
“Not in a month,” I tell him with a sigh before turning my attention to him. Big mistake. He’s just gotten out of the shower after a workout over at his house. The white towel hangs dangerously low on his tapered hips revealing a delicious V and a happy trail of hair that leads right to his impressive cock. Said cock, although flaccid at the moment, can be seen bulging from behind the towel. The doctor warned me my hormones would be off the charts. And lately, now that my morning sickness has gone away for the most part, I find myself physically craving Ren’s cock inside of me. A lot.
He saunters into the room past me and looks out the window. The window in the babies’ room faces the ocean. When it’s warmer, I’ll be able to open it and hear the waves crashing.
“Do you think Vee is okay?” he questions. His shoulders are tense and it squashes all of my sexual thoughts as reality rushes back in.
“I don’t know. I’m worried about her. She’s just gone. Oscar filed a police report ages ago. Of course the cops have no leads. Has your dad found out anything else?” I ask as I stand and make my way over to him. His back tattoo is completely finished now. Every time I see it, I want to cry. The tree is big and strong and takes up most of his back. But it’s what’s under the tree that steals my heart. A fierce tigress with a no-nonsense gleam in her eyes. Curled up in front of her are two baby cubs. I don’t have to ask him to know that he’s the tree. And truth be told, I see him as the tree in my life. Steady. Unyielding. Protective from the harsh storms that always seem to whip my way from every direction. The fact that he cares for all of me, including my little cubs, has my heart stammering in my chest. His love is too much sometimes. I feel undeserving of it.
“Dad will find something. I’m sure of it,” he says softly.
He relaxes once I wrap my arms around his solid middle. My cheek presses against his colorful back and I let out a sigh. His palms cover mine on his lower stomach and we remain silent for a bit.
“What if she’s dead?” A choked sob escapes me.
Ren turns in my arms and hugs me to him. “Shhh,” he murmurs. “Don’t talk like that.”
Tears roll out, and I once again curse myself for all of these stupid emotions swirling around me twenty-four-seven. Vee is tough but she’s also sheltered. I’m afraid if something bad happened to her, she wouldn’t be able to cope.
“Calder was making lasagna when I left. Wanted to know if we were coming for dinner. Luciana misses you,” he tells me, changing the subject.
I yawn and shrug my shoulders. “We can go but I’m so tired. I hate that I’m sleepy all the time.”
He chuckles and kisses my forehead. “How about you just relax? I’ll go grab us a plate in a bit and bring it back. Luciana can come visit tomorrow.”
I give him a wicked grin as I tug at his towel. “Maybe you should tuck me into bed first.”
Before the towel even hits the floor, he scoops me into his arms and charges back to my room—I say it’s my room, but he’s practically moved all of his clothes into the closet and drawers. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like his crap all over the place, mingled with mine. It feels homey and comfortable having him here all the time.
He strides into the room and sets me on the bed. All I have on is one of his T-shirts and a pair of panties. Both get torn from me in a matter of seconds. Before I can utter another word, he climbs on top of me and is inside of me before my next breath.
Sex with Ren is fulfilling and exciting.
But the part I crave the most from it is that I can feel his love pouring from him like a never ending fountain. I drink greedily from it. I try to reciprocate the best I can but I’m not as good at it. He makes it seem like loving me is as easy as breathing.
“We won’t get as many of these moments when our babies get here,” he murmurs against my throat as he thrusts into me. “Gotta steal them while we can.”
I freeze at his words.
Our babies.
I’m hit by a thousand emotions at once. Joy. Fury. Happiness. Anger. Despair and sadness. Excitement. Dread.
“Oh, fuck,” he grunts and slows to a stop. He lifts up to give me a pained expression. Dark hair that’s growing longer hangs down past his eyebrows into his eyes. His full lips are parted as he attempts to find the right words to say.
He becomes a blur as emotion overcomes me. I want to tell him I’m glad he wants to take care of the three of us. I want to explain to him that despite this being a sad time for me, he makes me happy. But none of those things come out. Instead, words I don’t mean trickle out. They taste dirty and wrong on my tongue.
“They’re my babies,” I choke out. “Me and Duvan’s babies.”
The look of heartbreak on his face makes it feel as though someone is cracking open my chest. He’s inside of me with a look of frustration and horror
painted on his face. Neither of us move. Both of us are confused about how we’re supposed to feel.
“Brie,” he murmurs and buries his face against my neck. His thick cock pushes deeper inside of me at the action causing me to gasp. “I’m sorry. I just can’t help but feel possessive over every part of you. You know I love you. I love them too.”
I sob as I clutch his hair. Rocking against him, I urge him to continue fucking me despite the raging storm of emotions whipping around inside me.
“I won’t feel guilty for loving you or them,” he bites out, the fierceness something I can feel cutting permanent grooves in my heart. “Not ever.”
His words are like an accelerant on my impending orgasm. My body shudders as I lose myself to the pleasure. All conflicting emotions fly out of me as I allow myself one moment of undiluted bliss. He bucks into me a few more times before his own heat surges into me. When he finishes, we remain tangled up in silence. After some time, he kisses my throat and pulls out of me.
“I’m going to go get us some food,” he says in a husky voice, his gaze not meeting mine. “Try and get some rest.” His back muscles ripple as he yanks clothes on—the inked tree moving but still unbreakable. He’s angry at me. Deservedly so. Hell, I’m angry at me. Sometimes my emotions are confusing but how I feel about Ren is unwavering. So why did I say something to hurt him? Truth is…I don’t know. I wish I were brave enough to climb out of the bed after him and beg him to understand the conflicting slew of emotions wreaking havoc inside of me. The way he’s tearing my heart right from my chest and keeping it as his own. He casts one more troubled look at me that makes my heart rate quicken. The flash of anger in his eyes unsettles me.
I want to be yours, Ren.
I want them to be yours.
But the words don’t fall from my mouth like I want them to and my bottom lip does nothing but tremble as I watch him walk right out the door.
I clench my eyes closed and will the ache in my chest to subside. When he gets back, I’ll explain to him. I’ll let him know that he’s everything to me. That sometimes I say things I don’t mean because the guilt inside of me is a curse I can’t escape.
I wasn’t supposed to be happy.
But I am.
Because of Ren.
So why is it so hard admitting that out loud?
I wake to my phone buzzing on the nightstand. One look at the clock tells me I’ve only just fallen asleep. That Ren hasn’t been gone more than five minutes.
Ozzy: I found her. She’s in bad shape. I need your help.
I blink away my sleep as I sit up.
Me: Where? What happened?
Ozzy: I’m at your front door. Come now. We don’t have time to waste.
I jolt into action and throw on some yoga pants. Then, I find one of Ren’s hoodies that smells like him to throw on over my T-shirt. I stuff my feet into a pair of Uggs and grab my phone before hurrying downstairs. When I sling the door open, Ozzy stands there looking horrible.
His eyes have dark circles under them and his hair is even longer than the last time I saw him. He’s an utter wreck. As soon as he sees me, he grabs my elbow.
“Hurry,” he snaps.
I put on the brakes and shake my head. “I need to call Ren.”
He rolls his eyes and releases me. “Fine. Do it in the car. Tell him to meet us at her parents’ house.”
We both climb into Oscar’s car and I dial Ren. He doesn’t answer, so I leave him a voicemail telling him Ozzy found Vee and that we’re headed to her parents’ now. I shove the phone back into the pocket of my hoodie and regard my friend. He looks nothing like the boy I remember.
He’s a lost, broken man.
“Are you okay?” I question and reach for his hand.
“Peachy,” he snaps and jerks his hand away. “Really. What do you think, Brie?”
Tears prickle at my eyes, but I refuse to cry in front of him. He’s upset so I’ll allow him to be an ass. Under normal circumstances, I’d be telling him where to stick his attitude. But he managed to find Vee and it sounds bad. If there was ever a time for allowances, the time is now.
Oscar drives easily fifteen miles over the speed limit the entire way there. I’m so lost in thought that I don’t even realize we’re heading in the opposite direction of her parents’ house, until we’re pulling into Heath’s shipyard.
“Wait,” I say, sitting up and pointing through the glass. “I thought you said we were going to their house.”
He gives me a noncommittal shrug as he parks the car and climbs out. I scramble out after him, suddenly wishing I would have spoken to Ren before I left in such a hurry.
“This way,” he tells me over his shoulder as he stalks toward the gate that leads to all the shipping containers.
“Hold on,” I blurt as I dial Ren again. It rings and rings until it goes to voicemail again. I’m about to leave a message when my phone gets torn from my hand. Oscar’s face is positively murderous as he heaves it as far as he can throw it. I gape at him in shock for a long second before I begin to process what just happened.
This was a trick.
Vee isn’t here.
But I can bet my entire bank account that his crazy father is.
“Shit,” I hiss as I back away from him.
He lets out a growl as he charges after me. Oscar is bigger and stronger than me. So when he grabs my elbow, he’s easily able to drag me behind him despite my fighting him off. Someone opens the gates, and I yell out to them. The howl of the biting wind seems to carry my voice away, right along with the sunlight. It’s dark and grey and dreary…much like what awaits me.
“Help!” I swat at Ozzy. “Let me go!”
He ignores me as he storms along at a breakneck speed. My tears fall freely now. I don’t know what’s about to happen but every nerve ending in my body promises that it won’t be good. I’m dragged through a maze of containers that are stacked on top of each other until he stops in front of one. The door is ajar. Panic immobilizes me as I imagine what sort of horrors wait for me on the other side. When he has trouble getting me to follow, he hooks his arm just under my breasts and lifts me. I kick and scream to no avail.
The moment we enter the container, a foul stench wafts around me and makes me gag. Oscar hands me off to two larger men who easily wrangle me into a chair. I scream at them to let me go but, within minutes, they have me tied to the chair. Oscar delivers the blow of betrayal when he slaps a strip of duct tape over my mouth.
It’s dark inside the container aside from the grey light streaming in from the doorway. I frantically look around to see what I’m up against. There’s movement and sound coming from the dark part of the metal cage but I can’t see what it is.
Realization hits me like a cold splash of water.
I’m going to die in here.
Both my babies and I are never leaving this box.
As hot tears race down my cheeks, the only thing I can think of is Ren. How as soon as he realizes I’m gone, he’ll go mad trying to find me. A sob fights for escape in my throat but the tape keeps it locked away.
“If it isn’t the little puta who keeps screwing over my sons,” a familiar, heavily accented voice snarls. Camilo. All three of Camilo’s sons look a lot like him, but not one, not even Esteban, have that sick gleam in their eyes. Eyes that point to an evil past. And an empty soul. A shudder wracks through me the moment he comes into view. Blood soaks the front of his white dress shirt and a look of rage is painted on his normally cool features. I tremble and shake my head at him pleading for him to not do whatever it is he has planned.
“First, you get my middle son killed because of your precious little bollo,” he bites out, gesturing between my legs. “My own business partner betrayed me because he wanted it so bad.” He comes to stand right in front of me. “Débiles. Weak.” With the toe of his dress shoe, he pokes at me between my spread legs and regards me as if I’m vermin. “What exactly is so special about it? Is it lined with cocaína? What make
s grown men estúpido over your whore snatch?”
I shake and attempt to free myself from the restraints.
“¿Dónde está mi cuchillo?” he snaps over his shoulder.
My cries become too much with the tape over my mouth and I start to hyperventilate. I frantically look for Oscar in the shadows, but he’s nowhere to be found. When Camilo kneels in front of me, I meet his hate-filled gaze. I close my eyes, though, the moment I see the knife in his grip.
God, please no.
A ripping of fabric has my heart beating right out of my chest. Thankfully, aside from a quick bite or two from the knife against my flesh, he leaves me otherwise unharmed. Naked from the waist down but alive.
“Mírame,” he growls. “Look at me.”
I’m shaking badly but I open my eyes to meet his gaze. With the tip of the knife, he pokes at the lips of my pussy. Not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to scare the crap out of me.
“My wife’s snatch was better looking,” he observes. “What makes yours so special? I mean, my eldest son broke the rules of our family to fuck it. Went against our code to put his dick inside of you. And we all know how goddamned distraught Oscar was when he found out he wasn’t winning this prize.” He pokes me again. “Me das asco.”
I shake my head and plead with him. He wants answers but he won’t let me even speak. A scream resounds from behind the tape the moment he touches me with his pudgy fingers. They prod at me. Tug at my pubic hair. And then, to my horror, enter me. Bile threatens to rise up my throat but being that I have tape over my mouth, I decide I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it down.
Closing my eyes, I think of Ren. I think of the way he proudly called these precious babies ours. I’d give anything to rewind a couple of hours and agree that we’re his family now. That I want him to take care of us.
That I love him too.
