by Jennifer Ann
I tell her that I love her over and over again while stroking her smooth dark hair. There’s nothing else I can do, except take Jordan up on his suggestion to split before the South Side claims us too, and work on being a man worthy of her love.
Long after Brooke falls into a deep sleep in my bed, I head out to the garage, flipping on the cool blue lights Sasha said would make the experience of jamming more authentic, like we’re performing for a live audience. The sight of Trask’s drum set almost brings me to my knees.
“It’s not right,” Stone mutters behind me.
Heart lurching into my throat, I reel around to face him. “The fuck you doin’ here?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” He runs a hand through his wild hair, eyes heavy when they meet mine. “Those drums and his sister are all he had. Came over here to see them, thinking it would remind me of the good times. Only makes me want to light a match to the fuckin’ things.”
“May as well take your guitar back to your grandma’s. Can’t stand the thought of playing without him. And there’s no way I’ll set foot in the same room as Ryker.”
“He doesn’t think his uncle was involved. He has his reasons. But he’s just as torn up about Trask as the rest of us. We have to stick together to get through this.”
I face him again, shaking my head. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What proof do you have that King Marty had a hand in any of this? Ryker was right. Just because you know Terrance was involved doesn’t make him guilty by association.”
“I know King Marty was behind Trask’s murder!” I seethe with a new bout of anger vibrating against my bones. “That fucker needs to pay!”
Staring off at the drum set, he clamps a hand down on my shoulder. “I get why you’re convinced of that, brother. And I’d like the chance to personally slit the throat of whoever ordered his hit. But I’m not so sure you’re right about King Marty. Ryker tried to confront him about Trask, but he can’t get ahold of him.”
“Probably because he’s too fucking busy hiding all the evidence that proves he was behind this! Either that or he ran like the coward he is! Don’t you get it? He sent Trask and Terrance to go after those missing girls! He sold their goddamned organs!”
Brooke shuffles in behind us, wearing my favorite Zeppelin shirt. She squints against the intrusive light, dark hair falling over half of her face. “Everything okay?”
The sight of her looking soft and pretty instantly soothes the edge of my anger. “Stone stopped by to get his guitar.”
Brooke’s eyes fall on Stone. “You’re leaving the band?”
“We’re not playing without Trask,” I snarl.
“Why don’t you guys sleep on that decision.” Her voice is every bit as gentle as her hand that wraps around mine. “He would hate knowing you quit because of him.”
I jerk my hand from hers, scowling. “What would you know about what he’d hate?”
“Don’t be a dickhead,” Stone interjects. “She’s right. No reason to make a decision tonight. Do yourself a favor and go back inside, enjoy some pussy. Trask wouldn’t want you sitting out here on your own, stewing over shit that’s out of your control.”
He storms out without taking his guitar.
Releasing a deep breath, I run my hands through my hair. “I’m sorry,” I blurt, unable to look Brooke in the eye. “Maybe it’d be best if you left for a few days while I sort through this shit. Seems I’m only going to keep hurting you.”
“Don’t worry about me. I can take it.” She holds my jaw in one hand, waiting until I meet her tearful gaze. “You’re the one I’m worried about. You’ve lost so much since I met you, Rook. And I know what the band means to you. Trask believed in you guys, and with good reason. Promise me you won’t completely write off the idea of playing again. It might be the only thing that will get you through this, the same way it saved you from your old man’s abusive bullshit.”
I’m far from ready to make that kind of a promise, so I merely take her in my arms and kiss her. Now that Trask is gone, she’s the only one who gets me. She’s the only one who understands it’ll take a miracle to save me from this nightmare.
She’s the only one who can pull me out of the darkness.
Epilogue
BROOKE
(three months later)
I’m hit with a crippling wave of sadness as Liam stands in the center of the abandoned warehouse. Since we met six months ago, I haven’t seen him anything near this defeated or lost. He’s aged considerably since having to bury his best friend and say a final goodbye to Sasha hours later as she was taken away by the feds.
It’s been too long since he’s given me one of his flirtatious smirks, or made some smart-assed remark. Trask’s death destroyed everything about his easygoing spirit. I’m scared to death that I’ll completely lose the man I fell in love with.
Even after King Marty went underground, Ryker was still unsure about his uncle’s involvement, so Liam cut his other best friend out of his life. Bender was just as angry with his brother, told him they were done for good.
We heard rumors that Ryker was made temporary custodian of his uncle’s estate. Liam has told me far too many times since then that he’s going to burn it down. Luckily I’ve been able to talk him down every time, once again reminding him our future would be destroyed if he went to prison.
Stone joined the Marine Corp after graduation, and was shipped out to California for boot camp. It’s a relief knowing his ferocity will be put to good use in fighting for our country. I almost feel sorry for whoever’s in charge of his training.
After Bender was convicted of grand theft auto, he was sent to a security facility way the hell up north, not expected to be released until he turned eighteen. Of course Liam was kicking himself for mentioning the stolen car to the cops in the first place, even though he only did so thinking the bullets would count as evidence. Unfortunately, the car was registered to some old woman in the city who hadn’t driven in years. At least Bender was at peace with his sentence, telling Liam he felt more at home in juvie than with another set of wealthy foster parents.
Liam’s father was admitted to an assisted living home last month, living at a low-functioning level where he can’t feed himself, and has to be pushed around in a wheelchair. With any luck, he’ll rot without being shown any kindness.
Aside from the bonds Liam created with Jordan and Candy the hooker, I’m all he has left. It made my idea to move away and start over that much easier to pitch, along with the fact that I lost my job. At least Tara went easy on me, deciding in the end not to report the list of violations and allowing me to keep my license. More than anything, I’m still terrified King Marty will appear in the middle of the night to execute his revenge. It’s the reason we plan to disappear without leaving a forwarding address with anyone.
Convincing the judge to dismiss Liam’s case several months early took longer than we hoped, so he won’t be starting until winter semester. In the end it worked out perfectly anyway, allowing time to find a job that was a perfect fit for me, and an affordable apartment within walking distance from the Connecticut campus. He’ll start work study along with classes after the first of the year. It gives us several months to explore the area, and become familiar with our new home.
We’ll only be a few hundred miles from where my daughter lives with her adoptive family. Liam’s encouraging me more and more to at least meet her, and I’m starting to think it may help lessen the heartache from letting Sasha go. I’m convinced Liam chose his school based on that sole reason, although he’d never admit to it. At least not in the state of mind he’s been in lately.
He’s become despondent in every way. Even sex feels mechanical, sometimes laced with hints of underlying anger. I allow it to happen, knowing he’d die before hurting me. His counselor told him he needs some kind of release as he’s been through more at eighteen than most men are forced to endure in a lifetime.
I’m hopeful the change of climate wil
l somehow bring him back to me.
Liam looks lost when he turns to face me, jaw flexing the way it does when he’s fighting a bout of anger. “Do you think they’ll ever find him and make that son of a bitch pay for all the people he murdered?”
“I sure as hell hope so. His victims’ families deserve closure.” I shudder when remembering the gruesome discovery of the girl’s body a few months back. Despite everything Liam told them, and the fact that her heart was missing, the sheriff still classified it as an unsolved crime.
I go to him, wrapping his stiff body in my arms. His agony seeps into my pores, becoming my own. If there was any way I could take away the immense pain he’s been harboring, I’d do it in a heartbeat. “We’ll survive this together, Rook. I love you so damn much.”
With a quiet groan, his arms lock around my waist and he rests his head on mine. “Not as much as I love you, babydoll.”
“Careful…you’re starting to sound like the cocky seventeen-year-old that waltzed into my life, threatening to bend me over the table. I kind of miss that punk.”
“Maybe he’ll come back out to play when you start your new job and go back to wearing those slicked back ponytails with skirts.” My heart soars when I release him to find the smirk I’ve desperately missed starting to twist at his lips. “Let’s get the hell outta here.”
I gladly go along with him, eager to leave it all behind. Although I’d hoped that I could make a difference by trying to save one kid at a time, I’ll never be doing anything more than treading water in a sea of shit. The South Side is like an incurable cancer. It spreads through every neighborhood, ruining the lives of everyone it touches, and killing way too many before their time.
In Connecticut, no one will be aware of the sordid details of our relationship. We’ll finally be free to carry on like any other couple in love. I just hope the brave Liam Rooker I know and love will come back to me.
LIAM
(three years later)
“You here?” I holler up the old wooden staircase, holding my breath while waiting for a response.
Finals were especially brutal this year since I picked up the maximum allowed number of credits. With any luck, I’ll still manage to make the dean’s list and graduate a semester early. With a few days off before summer semester begins, there’s only one thing I want to do to celebrate, and it involves being buried deep inside the hot piece of ass upstairs.
The floorboards creak over my head before she responds in a pinched voice. “You shouldn’t be here! My husband will be home any minute!”
I’m rewarded with the glorious sight of the world’s sexiest woman slinking down toward me in a tiny black thong and matching bra with some feathery shit around the sides. Not what I was expecting, but my fingers twitch, eager to rip the bra off and bury my face between those long, silky legs as I make her come with my tongue.
One corner of her sweet mouth lifts with a sexy smirk and she cocks a hip, batting her thick eyelashes. “Guess that means we’ll have to be quick about it.”
Something shifts near my heart as I start for her at full speed. She spins around, squealing as I chase her all the way into the bedroom, leaving a trail of her undergarments behind. I discard my shirt and shorts along the way, grateful I didn’t bother putting on boxers before classes. It would’ve been one more unnecessary step keeping me from burying myself deep into my girl.
She waits for me on the bed, honied eyes the color of a deep forest bright, curves for miles exposed, bottom lip held between her teeth. It’s as sweet of a sight as I’ve ever seen. While slowly licking my lips, I climb onto the mattress, pinning her down while letting my thick cock brush between her smooth legs. Then I flip her around to her hands and knees, and the mood all at once shifts from playful to dark and somber. Her beautiful skin flushes right before my ravenous eyes as her entire body tremors.
I bend to graze my teeth between the smooth skin above her ass cheeks, dipping my tongue for a taste. A violent shiver ripples down to my toes with the flavor of her warm, salty skin, and the sound of her breathy pants. It’s familiar, like getting a glimpse of the home I never had until she came along.
Gripping her smooth ponytail in my hands, I glance down between us and pull my eyebrows down. “What happened to the skirt I told you to wear, Mrs. Rooker?”
Looking over her shoulder, she sets her jaw and raises her chin. “I got tired of you ripping them, Mr. Rooker. They’re not your playthings. I need them for work. Your little game has become too expensive.”
God, I love the hell out of this gorgeous, stubborn woman. Some days I can’t believe she agreed to marry someone like me with still so little to offer. She surprised me on my twenty-first with a weekend trip to New York, and I returned the favor by getting down on one knee on top of the Empire State Building. At first she appeared horrified, but later admitted she thought I was going to go down on her right then and there. We got a license later that day, and found a justice of the peace online who officiated the ceremony the next morning in the center of Central Park.
Unable to keep my hands off her hot flesh any longer, I stroke the palm of my hand over her smooth ass. “Sounds like someone deserves to be punished for not following directions.” I deliver a sharp slap to a cheek before ripping her thong from her legs. “Don’t need these for work, do ya?”
Gasping, she arches back to push her bare pussy into my erection. “Joke’s…on…you,” she rasps out. “You…paid…for those.”
I rub the head of my dick over her opening, hissing through my teeth when it becomes covered in her juices. “Does this feel like a joke to you?”
“Oh god, no…Rook…please.”
With a chuckle, I swirl my head over her slit again. “Please what?”
“Please use that beautiful cock to fuck me.”
I press in a little further. “What are you going to do in return?”
“I’ll bake you an angel food cake…with strawberries.”
“Mmmm…my favorite.”
Flicking her bra hook with my fingers, I let it fall to her elbows and cup a firm breast as I push all the way inside her tight opening. She cries out while pushing back against my hips. My eyes roll back into my head as pleasure grips my balls. I’ve been so busy studying that it’s almost been an entire week since we’ve had sex.
“Babydoll, I’m not going to last very long.”
“Doesn’t matter,” she pants, wiggling her ass. “We can do this all weekend long. Now move.”
Never thought I’d be the kind of man to take orders from his wife, but I dutifully do as I’m told, drawing out before entering her again. And again. The headboard she found at a flea market bangs against the wall of our “new” house, jarring a dusting of plaster from the ceiling. Brooke cries out in surprise, but I don’t let up until we’re gasping and falling over the edge together.
I gather her in my arms and fall down to the mattress with our mouths and tongues in a tangle.
“This place is going to fall down on us,” she pants between kisses.
“Until I find a better paying job, we’ll do what we can to fix it up ourselves.” I take a nipple in my mouth, sucking on it until she’s moaning and I’m stiff again. I release it between my teeth before trailing my tongue down past her bellybutton. “We can start right after I devour this sweet pussy.”
I freeze when seeing her heart bracelet dangling above my head.
“Oh fuck!” I reach for my phone on the nightstand. “It’s the twenty-second!”
“So?” She grips my hair in her fingers, nudging my head downward. “Keep going.”
“This is the weekend we said we’d take Brylee so the Hillers could go to that benefit thing! They’ll be here any minute!”
Brooke’s face pales. “Shit!”
After we’ve both scrambled to get dressed, I stop her before she can leave the room and pull her into my arms for a deep kiss. “As soon as she’s in bed for the night, you’re all mine.”
She giggles whil
e trying to squirm free. “Babe, she’s twelve. And it’s Friday. She could be up until midnight.”
“You think I care? All-nighters have become my specialty.”
My beautiful wife giggles again before kissing me and starting for the stairway. As I watch her go, I realize I have more than I could’ve ever hoped for on those miserable nights I spent in my old man’s apartment on the South Side, wishing I was dead.
It still blows that I had to lose everything before getting here. I’ll never get over Trask’s death. While standing over his casket, I vowed to him that I’ll find a way to make King Marty pay. Stone and Bender kept in touch over the years, but our friendship will never be the same now that we’ve gone our separate ways. Last I heard, Stone was stationed in Japan, and Bender was moving into a shitty little apartment on the South Side with a chick he met from juvie. They’re smart enough not to bring up Ryker, although Bender mentioned that Terrance took over the business since King Marty is still missing. Rumors put him in both Mexico and Cuba doing all sorts of shit from running a drug cartel to money laundering.
And while having Brooke’s daughter around is a painful reminder of Sasha, I’ve nearly come to love Brylee as much as her momma. Even though we just met her a little over a year ago, the kid was born with Brooke’s strong spirit in addition to being her physical clone. Setting up the spare room for her visits became therapeutic, knowing we can strive to be the kind of parents we both wished we had at her age.
At least I know there will come a day when we’ll see Sasha again. She’ll be an adult soon, and I’m willing to bet my life she’ll search for us. Until then, I have everything—an imperfect house with the perfect wife, and a future that’s looking pretty fucking bright.
