Wheeler (Four Fathers Book 4)

by Ker Dukey

  Until Rowan’s mother.

  She gave me all her attention, laughed at things I said, and ignored every other person who approached her that night. She had picked me, and I liked that. I felt alive for the first time in my life. The idea of her pupils dilating under my throttling hands and her gasping for air as I cocooned her body beneath mine raced through my thoughts and heated my flesh. Toxins from the alcohol danced in my veins, and when she suggested we go to my room, I was buzzing with so many different needs, I almost ran to the room. She showed me things I’d only seen on porn sites. Her mouth touched every part of me. But when she climbed over me and lowered her body onto my cock, I felt so overpowered and conquered. I hated it. When I flipped her onto her back and smothered her mouth with my palm, a flood of adrenaline washed through me so powerful, I came on the spot. Red veins popped in her eyes and her chest slowed under mine. I knew she was dying. If I’d held on for just a couple more seconds, I knew she would perish. I pulled back, sighing as she inhaled air and then began laughing hysterically. I climbed from the bed and backed up against the wall, shocked by her amusement.

  “I had no idea you’d be a freaky one. Fuck, didn’t think you’d let me up. I charge extra for you coming inside me by the way,” she announced, smirking and shaking her head.

  I felt like that school kid being mocked in the locker room. Overlooked by the popular girls. I couldn’t move. She found my wallet and emptied it. Threw her clothes on and left me there. Her face haunted me for months afterwards, and then one day, while back in that town, I saw her leaving a gas station. It was fate. The hate and rage I’d built up over that time bubbled to the surface. I was moving without registering what was happening. Her back was to me, and all I had in my hand were my car keys. It was dark and barren. No one around. No one to witness. I fisted my keys, slipping my house key between my fingers, then I wrapped an arm around her chest and stabbed her in the neck. Hard jabs to puncture the skin.

  The flesh on the neck is thin, and the artery is right there in offering. It was then I saw her bump. A baby growing inside her. All the power and rush I’d felt as the metal of my key broke her skin and the crimson river emptied from her neck drained from me. She was pregnant. My mind counted the months, and fate turned out to be a cruel cunt. I knew I had a small slither of time to get that child out of her before they both died. It was messy, and when I cut her stomach open in the back of my car and pulled a living being from her body, my world changed. I’d been rough, and the baby girl had a cut running across the top of her head. But it wasn’t life threatening, and her hair would grow to cover that. I wrapped her in my jacket and drove the car to the salvage yard with Rowan in the passenger seat covered in her mother’s blood.

  The crusher destroyed the evidence for me. A name change, different location, and I was someone new. A father. My lust for the kill didn’t wane, but I learned so much about myself because of Rowan’s mother. And now it’s come down to this.

  Waltzing back inside the house, I open the safe and take out the gun I keep in there. I’m not a fan of guns. The noise is jarring and too easy, but for this occasion, it will do.

  I make sure it’s loaded and head next door. The front door is unlocked and the lights are on, but I don’t encounter anyone downstairs. I don’t venture upstairs where I hear the boys jeering and laughing at something playing on a television set.

  One quick glance, and I locate Eric. I see him through the glass of the French doors leading onto his patio. Rowan is on his lap. I raise the gun and make my way out there. He startles when Rowan gasps and jumps up, holding her hands out.

  “Daddy! What are you doing?” she shrieks, her voice wobbling.

  I shake my head. “Look who’s back to being Daddy,” I mock, staring straight into the eyes of the man who’s made my castle tumble down around me. I didn’t think this would be the way I’d be caught—be the way Rowan learns who her Daddy really is.

  “A bit over the top, Jaxson. Let’s calm the fuck down and put the gun away,” Eric attempts to placate, trying to keep his cool demeanor. But I see the fear flickering in his steely eyes. I can fucking smell it on him.

  “Shut your mouth and move,” I instruct, my tone cold and unyielding.

  He gets up and holds his hands up in surrender, but laughs like I’m joking.

  Does he not realize the danger he’s toying with?

  “Jax,” he says, and I hear the plea in his use of the name I’ve been telling him to use for years.

  Tears are streaming down Rowan’s face, matching the rain dancing over the grounds around us. I must look as crazed as I feel, covered in mud and soaking wet, holding a gun.

  Anyone else would see the danger before them, but Eric still thinks this is a game he can win. “My boys are all here,” he hisses, anger quaking his voice. “Do you think you can get away with this?”

  “Unless you want me to shoot your brains out here and then pay those boys a visit, I’d start fucking moving,” I warn.

  “Fine. Where are we going?” he demands, gritting his teeth. He keeps looking over at Rowan, who is shaking from head to toe.

  “My yard.”

  “Daddy?” Rowan cries.

  I glare at her, imploring for my love to return to me, to see the baby she once was, but she’s been selfish and entitled. She cut out my hollow heart and destroyed it when she chose this loser over me.

  “He’s your daddy now, remember?” I tell her, expressionless. I jerk my hand with the gun in its grip, gesturing for Eric to start moving.

  He begins walking, and I keep the gun aimed at the back of his head as I follow behind him. Rowan sniffles, pleading with a murmured, “Sorry. Please. I’m sorry.”

  It’s too late for sorry, sweetheart.

  “You’ve made your point, Jaxson,” Eric growls, the rain saturating him. What a foolish fucking man he is. He really thinks I would allow this? His feet falter when they reach my back gate, but a hard shove, and he stumbles forward.

  “What the fuck?” he bellows as the view of an open grave is laid out before him.

  “Oh my God! Daddy! What is this? You’ve gone crazy!” Rowan screeches.

  She’s wrong. I haven’t gone crazy. I’ve never thought so clearly in my entire life. There’s no hesitation. I know what needs to happen, and what is going to happen. She will come face to face with the reality I’ve always kept hidden from her.

  “I love him. I love him. I’m eighteen!” she screams, like it makes a difference. She loves him. What a joke.

  “Move,” I bark as Eric slows, his feet slipping on the now wet mud. The rain isn’t letting up, and neither am I.

  “Is it because you don’t have anyone? No one left to love you?” Rowan shrieks. And then laughter, just like her mother. “You have to let me grow up, Dad.”

  I ignore her, giving Eric all my attention. He’s right on the cusp of toppling into the grave I created over six years ago. “What the…?” His words fail him. He turns to look at me, his eyes wide, water cascading down him, flattening his usually styled hair. He looks just like I’ve always seen him: a drowned rat.

  “Who the hell is that?” he chokes, real emotion for once in his goddamn life in his voice.

  “Someone you’ve been looking for. Say hello to your wife.” I grin, and relish as the horror drains all the life from him before I pull the trigger. The crack pierces the air, followed by a blood-curdling scream from Rowan. Blood spatter hits me in the face, and washes away with the rain as Eric fucking Pearson’s body collapses into the grave on top of the bones of his wife.

  I win, motherfucker.

  Rowan heaves and vomits. She’s on her knees, shock ravishing her body and mind. “You killed him!” She lurches, looking down into the grave.

  Screams echo through the night as she points down into the grave.

  “Is that really Julia?” she sobs. “You killed his wife? Their mother?”

  “I should have never cut you out of your mother,” I spit.

  Ju
st as I’m about to turn and leave, Nixon comes barreling toward me, crashing into me. We both slip on the wet mud and fall to the ground. He lands a blow to my jaw, catching me off guard. It takes me a few seconds to recover and shove him off my body. He’s weak compared to me, because he’s only sixteen, but like me, he doesn’t show fear. He’s coming back at me, but freezes when I point the gun at him. I grin as I tease the trigger, but he bolts forward, smacking my hand, causing my finger to squeeze and the gun to fire off a round. We squabble for a few seconds, then I hit him across the nose with the butt of the gun, feeling it crunch under my blow. He stumbles back, bringing his hand up to survey the damage. Blood dribbles from his nose, and he smirks, the blood dripping into his mouth covering his white teeth. He looks crazed. It’s then I notice Rowan laying on her back gasping for air, the rain coating her body in its punishing terrain.

  A dark red patch spreads out across the material of her dress.

  More Pearson boys rush into my yard, their gazes taking in the scene and rushing to Rowan. The bullet must have hit her. Our entire life together flickers like an old movie through my mind.

  “Call a fucking ambulance. Stay with us, Rowan. Look at me.” They all try to coach her at once.

  “He killed us,” she coughs, holding a hand to her stomach. “He’s killed our baby.”

  Baby? What the fuck does she mean?

  “No,” Brock snaps. “You’re fine. It will be fine.”

  Baby? She’s not pregnant. Fate wouldn’t be that fucking cruel.

  “An ambulance is coming. Hold on,” Camden, the youngest Pearson, cries out.

  I fade into the night. She belongs to them now. And I’m free to be who I am. No more hiding behind the title of Father. Jaxson Wheeler died this night alongside Eric Pearson. And a new man was born in his wake.

  Nixon jumps up and gives chase. I find myself running until I’m clear from the house, and then I slow and turn to see him see coming for me. His feet are sluggish, and he glares at me. Black nothingness staring into me, seeking out the monster he knows.

  “I don’t want to kill you,” I tell him honestly, still holding the gun I used on his father.

  “You shot Rowan,” he bellows. “She’s your damn daughter.”

  “She caught a stray bullet. I only wanted Eric.”

  “He’s my father,” he growls. “You think I won’t avenge him?”

  A smirk curls my lip. “You don’t give a shit about him. And we both know he’s not your father. Perhaps you should ask Uncle Trevor if he knows who your real daddy is.”

  A slight flinch alters his face, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him affected by my words.

  “If she dies, I’ll come for you,” he warns, and it’s endearing in a fucked up sort of way.

  “You love her?” I ask. The roads are quiet, and I wonder how long it will take for the ambulance to arrive.

  “I feel things for her, but we both know we don’t love anything.”

  And there it is. We are the same.

  “Take care, Nixon. Don’t make the mistakes I did,” I urge him.

  And then, I’m gone.

  Epilogue One

  Jax

  Psychopath red flag

  #13

  They’re obsessive

  Seeing my name emblazoned on the front of newspapers isn’t as scary as I once assumed it would be. I like being famous. Well, my old self anyway. I’m someone new now.

  I watch as she moves around her new house, room to room, tinkering and clearing up the mess her greying, old man boyfriend leaves behind. I’ve learned his schedules. The man is as meticulous as me when it comes to his routine, so I know exactly when he will and won’t be home. Just like tonight. I know he’s working late at the office. All this time, and Four Fathers is still picking up the pieces from the loss of their fearless leader.

  I’ve bided my time and come back for her.

  She was always waiting for me.

  It’ll make it all the much sweeter.

  I slip the syringe from my sock and slide out of the coat closet. Quickly, I move against the far wall and wait for her to return to the kitchen. I’ve thought about nothing else the entire seven months I’ve kept my distance. Building a new life far away from this old one. I’ve changed my appearance and wonder if she’ll recognize me straight away.

  This drug I’ve brought here just for her takes hours to actually kill. I will have so much time with her to make up for the wait I’ve made us both suffer through. The old man won’t come home until late, and by then, it’ll be too late for him to save her.

  Her feet shuffle toward where I’m waiting, and as soon as she’s close enough, I step out, reaching for her and injecting her in the small freckle on her lower neck. Her eyes widen, and she looks scared as she sways on her feet.

  “It’s okay, Lucy,” I say, comforting her. She’s no doubt been fed hate from Trevor about me. Killing Eric, his best friend, was bound to cause some friction, but Lucy should know what we have.

  A few unsavory words won’t change the solid bond between us.

  Her body tumbles as the paralytic consumes her. I quickly grab her so she doesn’t hurt herself with the fall. I lift her and carry her up to the room they share, placing her on the bed. I’ve fantasized about fucking her for longer than any of my other girls.

  What we have is special and timeless.

  I couldn’t move on.

  No one else caught my eye, and things felt unfinished. Lucy is mine. I needed to come back for her, claim her. I take my time stripping her, exposing her skin. Tears well in her bright eyes, and I kiss them away, relishing the burst of salty goodness exploding over my tongue. I know it’s elation in her tears. She’s been waiting as long as I have for this day.

  My hands stroke over her body, reacquainting myself with her.

  I missed you so much, lovely Lucy.

  I’ve waited so long for you.

  Pushing her legs apart, I see her cunt is seeping with need, and I sigh. This moment is beyond anything I could have imagined. Leaning down, I swipe my tongue over her slit, dipping through her folds and devouring her.

  A phone shrills through the house, and I pause. The answering machine picks up after six rings. It beeps, and Nixon’s voice speaks.

  “Hey, Lucy. Rowan has gone into labor and wants you here.”

  Beep. Nothing.

  My hand shakes, and I find myself taking a step away from the bed.

  I knew Rowan had survived her gun shot. It was superficial; hit her hip bone and lodged itself into the joint. She walks with a slight limp, but nothing life changing.

  I assumed the baby shit she was spewing was her mind losing the plot after everything she witnessed that night.

  But she is having a baby.

  My baby is having a baby.

  The memories of me cutting her from her mother and hearing her first cry almost has my knees buckling.

  My baby, having a baby. I made so many mistakes that led to the place we’re at now. I thought all hope for ever feeling for Rowan, what I once had, vanished that night, but this overwhelming need to go to her has me abandoning Lucy.

  “I’m sorry. I need to go,” I inform her, my lips still wet from her sweet cunt. She and I just weren’t meant to be, it would seem. After all this longing and waiting, she will die hopeless and alone.

  I’m sorry, Lucy.

  I rush from the property and jump in the car I’m using while in town. I put a hat on when I reach the hospital and bring up the layout on the app I downloaded onto my phone. It’s amazing what you can do with apps. There’s a fucking app for everything these days, making life for wanted criminals easier to go undetected.

  I avoid all the busy parts of the hospital and locate the laundry room.

  “Sir, you can’t be in here,” a woman tells me, shaking her head and pointing to the door. I don’t have time to come up with something witty to win her over. Instead, I rush her, gripping her head in my palms and twisting violently until
her neck pops with a snap.

  I toss her over my shoulder and drop her in one of the large carts full of soiled fabrics.

  Locking the door, I strip from my clothes and stuff them in the trash, locating a surgeon’s outfit to fit me. I dress the part, and slip from the room. Keeping my eyes down and surgical mask in place, I stay out of the way of other doctors until I’m where I need to be.

  I slip behind the desk of the labor ward and look up the patients on the computer.

  “Do you need help, Doctor?” a young woman in scrubs asks.

  “No.” I don’t look up at her. Instead, I carry on searching until I find Rowan.

  Delivered.

  I jump up and move to the nursery.

  My heart is in my throat. I thought this feeling had left me forever, but the anticipation is overwhelming. I reach the newborn room and look through the glass at all the new life, fresh and wrapped in blankets. Cries echo in the air. Then, I see her.

  The name tag. “Wheeler.”

  All the emotion I felt for Rowan hits me once more.

  Mine.

  Epilogue Two

  Rowan

  Psychopath red flag

  #14

  They take what they believe to be theirs

  Pain, sharp and constant, annoys me from my hip. I’ve just had a baby cut from my womb not four hours ago, yet it’s the stupid hip that’s giving me problems.

  This day should be so different, but here I am, a single mother with no real family.

  Eric’s sons have taken care of me, but it doesn’t end the weird hollow hole I feel inside me since losing their father and mine. I want to hate my dad for what he did, and I do, but it doesn’t erase the love I still feel for him. It’s such a weird thing to feel. Hate and love in equal measure. I don’t know where my dad is, or if he’ll ever come back for me, or what I’d do if he did—or what the Pearson boys would do.