by River Savage
“Okay, lunch is on me. See you later.” He offers me a wink and a grin, and as fast as he entered the place, he’s gone. Mitch smiles and waves, watching them with me through the glass window as they climb into their SUV.
“Liberty?” Mitch asks, still turned at the waist, watching them pull out and speed off down the street.
“Yeah?”
“I think I know what I wanna do when I finish school.” He turns back and faces me.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“I wanna be a cop,” he tells me proudly, and I can tell he’s serious from his posture.
“I think you would make an amazing police officer,” I tell him as our cheeseburgers arrive.
“You think so?” He pauses. “Even with Dad and Dom?” He doesn’t have to finish the question, but I know what he’s asking.
Even if my father is a murderer and serving twenty-five years. And even if my brother is a street thug who’s heading down the same road.
“I do, Mitch. You should never let anyone’s actions define what you want out of life. Okay? You can be anything you set your mind to. Regardless of where you come from or who you are related to.” He responds with a nod and I know he’s listening. Know he’s thinking.
And it’s all I can ask for.
These boys need to think about their future. Think about doing better for themselves so when they leave they have the tools and the resources to keep off the streets.
We spend the rest of lunch talking about what sort of things Hetch and the men of SWAT deal with on a daily basis and by the time lunch is over, and our table has been cleared, Mitch is adamant he has decided his career path.
Okay, so maybe I don’t need to smack Hetch for dropping by unexpectedly.
I’ll just kiss him later.
Way later.
Twenty-One
Hetch
Liberty: I was going to smack you for showing up like that today, but judging by the change in Mitch’s attitude since you left, I think I’m going to have to kiss you.
I read the text over again and quickly respond.
Me: Sweetheart, I’d like to see you smack me.
Liberty: I so could smack you. I just don’t want to. :P
“You gonna put your phone down so we can finish this workout, or you gonna keep being a pussy?” Sterling flicks his towel at me, causing me to drop my cell on the ground.
“Fuck you, asshole.” I bend down and reach for it, then place it into the pocket of my gym shorts.
He’s right, though. It’s been a long day and as much as I would prefer to sit around sexting Liberty, the quicker we get through this workout, the quicker I can head home and sex her.
While the tactical unit is required to participate in group PT three times a week, a typical week for the boys in our unit includes those three PT sessions, but also an extra two group sessions in the gym. This afternoon happens to be group training.
“Ahh, leave him alone, Sterling. He’s in love,” Fox taunts from across the gym, starting up a round of catcalls and collective awws.
Assholes.
They’ve been on my back all afternoon, ever since I walked into Betty’s Diner like a fucking puppy.
When I received the text from Mitch letting me know they were out for lunch, I couldn’t drive fast enough to catch up with them. The boys and I had finished weapons training out at the firing range, and we were heading back to the station when I told the boys we were stopping for lunch in town.
They didn’t catch on to why I needed to backtrack three blocks to Betty’s Diner until we walked in and they found Liberty sitting all fucking innocent and sexy in the back booth.
“Fuck you all.” I ignore their taunts and move back to the bench press.
“Come on, admit it, boss. You love her,” Tate chimes in with his jab, bringing it three to one.
“I don’t have to admit anything.” I lie back on the bench, ignoring their snickers, and continue with my set.
“It’s always the hard ones who fall so fast.” Hart enters the gym, bringing their tally up to four.
“Who would have thought the blonde would bring him to his knees?” Fox asks as he comes to spot me.
“I knew he was a goner the moment she sent the drink back,” Tate announces.
“Boy, you didn’t know what his extracurricular activities were.” Fox snorts, dismissing Tate. “I didn’t know how far gone he was when he made me chase the punk-ass thug down two streets. It wasn’t until he wanted the reservation at Il Centro I knew he was hooked.”
“Damn… he took her to Il Centro?” Hart asks. “Shit. If I didn’t already suspect he was hooked when he started having us bust down doors to get Dominic Westin, then that info would have sealed the deal.” I finish my set and sit up, raising a brow at him. I’m not surprised Hart’s playing along, but I did expect more from him.
“I knew when you ordered our asses to the damn car wash,” Walker shouts across the gym, giving his opinion. “Then made us pay fifty dollars for a lousy detail.” I grin, realizing, yeah, I did threaten them with unfavorable consequences if they didn’t show up. Boys Haven made a pretty penny on the guys from the department who came down and made a donation.
“Fucking highway robbery is what it was,” Fox grumbles.
“Fuck you, it was for a good cause.”
“Yeah, if that’s what you’re calling it these days.” He nudges me off the bench so he can knock out his set.
“What about you, Sterling?” Hart asks.
I turn my head in his direction. “Yeah, Sterling. Seeing as though you all seem to think you have it figured out, you wanna throw in when you think I fell?” I don’t know why I’m encouraging this. Maybe it’s my way of wondering when I really did fall. If I have fallen at all.
I think I have, but how can I be sure? It’s been so long since I’ve been in this situation, my feelings are almost foreign.
“You take her out to the house yet?” He holds my stare in challenge.
The fucker has a way of messing with my head.
“No.”
“Then I’m not sold.” He shrugs like that settles it.
“What?” A collective cry rings out amongst the guys.
“I’m not saying he’s not whipped. I’m saying I don’t think it’s love.” He stands and rubs his towel over his face.
Fuck him. He’s trying to get in my head.
“Whatever you say.” I focus my attention back to my reps and ignore the niggling feeling that maybe he’s right. Maybe I need to open myself up to Liberty more.
She sure as hell has with me.
The boys continue to chat amongst themselves, ribbing Fox over his ex-wife, and Tate over a new woman he’s been seeing. We’re only halfway through, and I find Sterling’s dig has put me in a foul mood.
“Come on, boys, you all keep running your mouths, you’re not gonna like me when I run PT on Monday,” I warn them. Running PT is my favorite pastime. Making the boys run the obstacle course in full SWAT gear might be on the cards.
The gym soon quietens down. The threat of me kicking their asses in PT is enough to allow us to finish the rest of our workout in silence. It also gives me a chance to get my shit sorted.
By the time I’ve finished, showered and heading home, I’ve made a decision.
Maybe this weekend I’ll take her out, show her my house.
Maybe this weekend I’ll tell her about my dad, tell her everything.
Maybe Sterling can fuck off.
“It doesn’t have to be like this. I know you can’t see it at the moment, but we can work this out. There are other ways.” I ignore all my training and step closer. “Let me help you.” He doesn’t retreat as I take another step closer, and my chest expands in determination.
I’m almost there.
His vacant stare holds my gaze as a flicker of something passes between us.
Him understanding my fears.
Me understanding his weakness.
“Dad, NO!�
�� I don’t recognize my voice, yet I recognize it’s too late.
“I love you, Liam, always know that.”
It happens so fast.
The change of his aim.
The discharge of his gun.
The fall of his body.
The agony of my screams.
I wake in alarm. My muscles tense in anticipation of its ending, to the outcome that I witnessed and to the nightmare I can’t stop myself from reliving.
Fuck.
It’s always the same.
A recap.
A reminder.
My reality.
“Hetch?” Liberty stirs next to me as the dream replays over and over in rapid succession.
The gun.
My screams.
The blood.
The end.
All of it smashes into me with violent force, like a battering ram used to tear through a door on a SWAT raid. Tremors rack my body while my heart slams against my chest as I force the memories back down to where they don’t hurt me.
“What’s wrong?” Her sleep is lifting, and I need to sort my shit before she completely wakes.
“Shhh, go back to sleep, sweetheart.” I lift an unsteady hand and graze my thumb along her cheek. She doesn’t fight the pull. Resting back down to the softness of her pillow, I count ten breaths before she slips back to sleep gracefully.
Fuck me, an afternoon of talking about my future and I’m back to dreaming of him again.
Lifting her hand from my chest, I carefully roll out of the bed, and trudge my way to the bathroom.
I fucking hate it when it comes back to me like this.
So unexpected. So fucking raw.
I wash my face in the basin, splashing cold water over me to calm myself down. I know it’s eating away inside of me, but I don’t know how to control it.
I don’t know how to fucking calm it.
I was doing okay until Sterling brought up the house.
Fucker.
“Hey, you okay?” I look up at her voice, annoyed she’s interrupting my moment, but relieved at the same time.
When I’m with her, I don’t feel so goddamn lost.
“Tomorrow, what do you have planned?” I ask as my answer.
Fuck Sterling.
“Nothing, I’m off. Why?”
“I want to take you somewhere.”
“Ohh, sounds fancy.” She steps into the bathroom and wraps her hands around my neck.
“Barely, but you might enjoy it.” I don’t reveal anything. Giving myself an out if I decide I’m not ready for it.
“Aren’t you on tomorrow?”
“I’m on call, but it’s only fifteen minutes out of town. We’ll be good. Now come on, let’s get back to bed.”
“Okay, but you sure you’re okay?” She pauses, not letting me escape.
“Never been better.” I lean forward and kiss her, stopping any more questions and arguments.
I don't need to think right now, not anymore.
I need to feel.
And the perfect way to manage it right now is with her.
“Actually, there is this one thing….” I trail off watching her hips sway as she pulls away.
She laughs on the way back to my bed.
Not a ha ha ha funny laugh.
A knowing laugh, a laugh that promises a good time.
Fuck me.
I love her.
Twenty-Two
Liberty
“So you own this place, but you still rent in town?” I ask Hetch as we stand in the middle of his house twenty minutes outside of the city.
Last night when he said he wanted to take me somewhere, I had no idea we would end up here.
“Yeah, I haven't had a chance to finish it.” He moves to a hallway closet and pulls out some sheets.
“How long have you been working on it?”
“A few years. My dad was helping me fix it up before he—” He stops talking and silence falls between us. It’s the second time in the last few weeks we've had a conversation stop with the mention of his father.
Unsure if I should ask for more information or let it drop, I let the silence stretch between us.
“I need to spend more time out here,” he continues, as if there was no pause.
“How often do you get to come out here?” I ignore the huge elephant in the room and let it pass. I know things between us are getting serious, but if there is an issue here, I don’t want to push him. I would rather he told me.
“I usually try to come out every weekend, but I've been a little preoccupied.” He reaches for me, wrapping his arms around me.
“Oh, yeah? With what?” I play along, raising my arms up around his neck. The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of craziness. Between keeping a close eye on Mitch, the other boys in the program, dealing with the Payton and Jett drama, and Hetch’s intense schedule, we’ve barely had any free days.
“Your pussy.” He’s so blunt in his answer but it doesn’t surprise me he uses those words. What surprises me is how I feel about his choice of words.
Is this all I am to him?
All we are?
“Oh, is that all?” I try to mask my disappointment, and maybe I do, but either way, he doesn’t read into it.
“What do you mean is that all? It’s not just any pussy, sweetheart. It’s Platinum Pussy.” I don't know if anyone has ever called my pussy platinum before, but platinum is good, right?
“Platinum?” I ask.
“Fucking perfection.” He kisses me deeper while his hands pull my dress up over my hips, revealing my naked ass.
“Jesus, you’re not wearing panties?” He doesn’t give me a chance to reply before he slides a finger between my wet and wanting folds. “You’re killing me here.” He moves his finger through my wetness a few times before driving two fingers into me. My leg comes up, wrapping around his body, seeking more friction. My head falls back at the sudden burst of pleasure.
“Hetch,” I moan, my body tight with need and my head loose with passion.
“Gonna fuck you now, B. Right here on the floor.” It’s the first time he’s called me B and my heart skips a beat when I realize how much I like it.
“Right here on the ground?” I know the sheets are clean, but is he for real?
“Right here, sweetheart. You can present your tight sexy ass to me on all fours, or lay back and spread them wide.” He holds me up against his body while dropping to a knee and lowering me to the ground.
Already knowing how I want it, I turn, find my knees, and present my ass to him. Arching my back, I spread my legs a little wider, hoping he gets a good view. Judging by the low moan he breathes out, I know he does.
“Don't know if I want to eat this platinum pussy out or fill it with my cock.” His hands come to my ass cheeks, roughly pushing them apart.
“Cock.” I pant when he blows a warm breath over me. I know he’s right there. Can feel his soft breath over my wetness as he stares at his prize.
“I think I need a taste first.” He ignores my request, spreading me wider, his tongue hitting my clit first. A spark ignites on impact, burning through me slowly. Skillfully, he glides through my folds, over my opening, and up to my asshole.
Holy Fucking Shit!
I tense at the sensation of Hetch’s tongue where it’s never been before.
“Relax,” he soothes, his finger replaces his tongue and travels in the same path.
“How am I supposed to relax? Your tongue just licked my asshole.” I try to sound offended, but it only comes out breathy when he pushes his finger into me.
“You loved it.” He taunts, removing his finger. He dips back to my clit, dragging my wetness back through my folds and up to my asshole.
“I didn’t,” I lie, unable to stop myself from tensing when he presses against my tight hole.
“Has anyone ever taken you here, sweetheart?” He pauses, waiting for me to answer.
“No.” I don’t have a second to worry if I sho
uld be embarrassed by the fact when a deep, painful moan vibrates over me.
“Fuck, yeah.” He groans, burying his face back between my legs, repeating his earlier path.
“Doesn’t mean you’re getting in there.” The taunt falls from my lips with ease. His fingers dig harder into my flesh as he spreads me even wider, but there’s not time to call out because his tongue starts spearing into my pussy.
“Fuck, Hetch.” I moan, unsure if I can come this way. He continues to fuck me with his tongue, more convinced than I am. I think I’m almost there, almost to the precipice when a startled gasp comes from the front door. My head rears back, my eyes falling on someone I quickly recognize as Hetch’s sister and an older version of her.
A scream rips through my lips at the sight of them. Hetch’s tongue vacates my pussy in expert speed, then pulls my dress back down to cover me up.
“Get out!” Hetch booms. The women turn, bumping into each other on their way out the door.
“Oh, my God.” I drop my head to the ground. The embarrassment is almost threatening to bring up my breakfast. “Please tell me that was not your mother.”
He doesn't answer and somehow through my panic, I know without a doubt it was.
“Hetch?” I turn back. He has my arousal all over his face, and his gaze is on me.
“It was my mom and you’ve met my sister.” The bastard chuckles while helping me to my feet.
“I want to die.” My stomach rolls at the thought.
“Relax, it’s fine.” He smirks. His dimples don't make me feel better.
“Relax?” I think I’m in shock. His mom just saw his head between my ass cheeks and all he has to say is relax?
Is he mad?
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I drop his hand and adjust my dress back into place.
“What do you want me to say, Liberty? I can’t change her walking in. It happened. No point getting yourself worked up over it.” He has a point, but it still doesn’t make me feel any more relaxed. In fact, his blasé attitude is making me less relaxed.
“Where are you going?” I ask when he starts walking toward the door.
