by Lake, Keri
I’d always thought of those words as superficial and meaningless until right then. There was no doubt. No question in my mind, at all. I loved him. Irrevocably and recklessly.
Those words threaded beneath my skin, wrapping around my heart like strings that fastened me to him. Through tears, I smiled and bent forward to kiss him. “I love you, Dax,” I said without hesitation.
A new expression flickered across his face. One I hadn’t seen before, that softened his brows and lifted the corner of his lips as he tilted his head back. Contentment. For the first time, he seemed relaxed.
I traced my fingers over the smooth skin where lines once marked his frown.
I was crazy in love with him.
Dax lifted me off the chair, and carried me into the bathroom. Without a word, he set me down and flipped on the shower. Steam rolled over the top of it, and he dragged me inside, pulling me into his body. Water cascaded over his shoulders, the errant sprays and surrounding steam cocooning me in enough heat to soften my muscles.
He nabbed the body wash from beside him and filled his palm with the warm orangey scent. The smooth glide of his palms over my skin left a trail of suds that he rubbed in long, relaxing circles, massaging my aching muscles.
“Mmmm,” I purred, as his fingers kneaded the tight threads of tension across my back.
“So it was Emberle who commissioned the video. But who commissioned the murder?”
My muscles stiffened with his question, quickly dissolved by the work of his penetrating strokes.
“Kenny. It was no secret that Aleksey had burned his face for what he’d done to me. How he treated me. Aleksey would’ve killed him after he’d tried to drowned me, if Kenny hadn’t disappeared soon after.”
Thick arms wrapped around me as I stood staring at his chest, tracing my finger over his neck tattoo. “No more questions. I promise,” he said, and planted a kiss to my forehead.
Gripping my shoulders, he turned me around so my back flattened against his chest, and ran his palms down over my breasts. He added more soap to his palm and circled his hand over the small strip of hair between my thighs, his fingers deliberately dipping between my folds.
I reached back to grip the back of his neck, a shaky breath escaping me. How the hell I could possibly be so aroused again was a testament to the man’s fingers. The way they so adeptly teased my libido at the slightest touch.
As he worked up a lather, he nipped my lobe with his teeth. “How fast do you think I can make you come again?”
Lip caught in my teeth, I smiled, eyes shuttering to the sensation he’d stoked up inside of me again. Like a master.
He slid his hand beneath my thigh, hoisting it up on the small ledge beside the soap and I waited with anticipation in the pause that followed. Tiny tickles beat against my pussy, as he held the showerhead against my thighs and tugged at my nipple.
“Dax!” My voice reverberated against the tiles, and he relented his grasp, reaching down to press his fingers against my folds, opening me to the maddening pulses of water against my clit.
I ground my ass into his cock that’d already begun to harden, and reached back, gripping tight to his shaft. “Wait. You first. I want to make you come.” Odd saying that aloud, as I’d always loathed the act in the past. The many times I’d been forced to my knees, then treated like a whore afterward. Yet, with Dax, I was eager to have him that way, to taste that metal against my tongue and watch his face when he finally climaxed because of me.
“Later. Right now, I’m going to show you endurance. I need you to last a bit longer, my impatient little lynx.” At that, he angled the shower lower, hitting another sensitive spot and when I slid down his body, he dragged me back to my feet, spreading me open for his torment.
My belly burned with the impending climax, my hips making tiny thrusts against the unforgiving spray, and just as that fire built inside of me, he removed the water, letting it smolder.
“Dax, please!”
“You can beg all you want, but your body belongs to me tonight. All night. I’m going to make you feel good.” He spread me apart again, and set the shower to my pussy just as before, his lips to my ear. “Real good,” he whispered.
For the next half hour, he doled out the kind of torment that left me a razor’s edge from going crazy and unsteady on my feet. Building me up to orgasm, only to let it fizzle away, until I could no longer take it anymore.
Wrapping both arms around the back of his neck, I hung on for dear life, as he teased yet another orgasm out of me, flicking the showerhead to intensify the pulses against my pussy, while I cried out. More weakness, more warmth, as the climax settled deep into my bones.
“I could listen to that sound over and over again,” he said, banding his arm across my breasts. “Let’s get some rest first, though.”
I gave a nod and he set the showerhead back, flipping off the water, and after nabbing a towel from outside the stall, he wrapped me and carried me to the bed. I felt small and fragile in his arms, as he set me down on the mattress and slipped beneath the covers behind me.
Everything felt perfect—too perfect. So perfect, my head couldn’t accept that it belonged to me. Nothing good had ever lasted long in my life, and with my newfound happiness and love came an impending fear of watching it all crash around me.
“What are you thinking about?”
I stared out the window across from me, at the moon as its dark sliver mocked my thoughts. “You know I …. There’re going to bad days, Dax. Dark ones.” Blinking failed to hold back the tears those thoughts brought to my eyes. “They’ll come out of nowhere, and they’ll mess with my head. They always do.”
“I ever tell you about the time I went through detox?” His question was so out of nowhere, once again distracting my mind.
“No.”
“Was bad. Had to have a sitter, so they sent this old guy in. Rudy, was his name. Volunteer. Old Vietnam vet, tattooed and scarred.” Rolling onto his back, he kept me tucked within one arm and folded the other beneath his head. “So there I was, strapped to this bed, miserable as fuck, and this chatty bastard is telling me his life story. Like how he met his wife, but then got drafted into the war. How he came home to a new daughter, who died of some heart condition a couple years later. His wife got pregnant again, a boy that time, named him Rudy number two, but his wife found out she had cancer halfway into the pregnancy.” As he spoke, I lay there wondering what the hell his story had to do with my comments a moment ago, but I listened as he kept on with it. “She beat it, delivered his son, who I guess went on to become some world renowned cancer doc. Then both his wife and son ended up dying in a car crash.” With a sigh, he shook his head. “Guy’s life was a fucking roller coaster, up and down, and up and down. So I asked him how the hell he coped with it. He said, Son, with every high, there’s a low to keep you humble and remind you of all the good shit in life.” With light caresses to my arm, he kissed my forehead. “I want the high’s and the low’s with you. Beautiful and the ugly parts, too. The turbulence and the calm. I want all of you.”
With a smile, I ran my hand over his chest, taking in the light tickle of hair beneath my palm. “I want all of you, too. But just so we’re clear? My ugly parts might make you change your mind about that.”
He chuckled and pulled me tighter into his chest. “Baby, I’ve seen every inch of you, and ain’t nothing ugly about it.”
Face pressed into the crook of his arm, I smiled. “I’ve got an ugly temper.”
“Alright, I’ll give you that.”
I playfully punched him in the ribs.
He grunted and curled into his side, and I stole the opportunity to crawl over top of him, feeling his hands grip the back of my thighs. “My ass is going to land in another support group by the end of the week, if I’m not careful.”
“Why? Because I’ll drive you to drink?” I grinned against his lips, threading my fingers through his hair. “Or to take those green pills in the bathroom?”
“No, because I’m hard again.” The prodding of his groin proved his point. “You’ve got me fiending like some sorry ass junkie.”
“Rudy said you have to savor the lows to appreciate the good shit, remember?”
“Rudy’s never had his face between your thighs.” He lifted his head and kissed along my jawline. “It’s a tough road to recovery, sweetheart.”
I giggled as his stubble brushed across the sensitive skin at the crook of my neck. “Sounds like an addiction you need to kick before it messes you up.”
He fell back onto the pillow, staring up at me again with those warm brown eyes. “Nah. I like this high. Feels good.”
“Feels good to me, too.”
Epilogue
One year later …
I stood biting the shit out my nails, like a teenager on the first day of high school. I never bit my nails, but I had to bite something, because I was about to become a dad, and nothing scared me more than the thought of being responsible for a small human being.
The woman sitting across from me had strands of hair sticking out of her loose bun, and wore a corduroy jacket over a messy blouse. She handed me a pen and pointed to the line that would turn me into a parent. “Sign here.”
I signed my name beside Eden’s, taking note again of how perfectly her name paired with mine. Eden Wolfe. Sounded like something out of a fairytale. Only, in our version, she was the badass girl in the dark forest who tamed the big wayward wolf.
The second I pushed the paper back toward the heavyset woman, I felt Eden’s hand on my thigh. In an effort to calm my nerves, I lifted her hand and kissed the back of her hand, hoping she didn’t pick up on my breaths stuttering out of control against her skin.
While the woman looked everything over, I studied the tattoo on Eden’s wrist that Rhys had inked of a nautical star, and I rubbed my thumb over the words below it that read, Hold Fast. He’d also covered up the circle seven tattoo on my forearm with an elaborate compass set against a map, Eden’s amber eyes staring out from its center. A reminder that I wasn’t alone.
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Wolfe. Welcome to parenthood.”
That only made my heart beat faster, and I looked to Eden for some measure of doubt, but she didn’t show a trace of it on her face.
Why should she?
We’d moved into a nice place on the west side—four-bedroom house with more room than we’d ever need. Our wedding hadn’t been anything big, just a small Justice of the Peace ceremony, with Jase and Lucy as our witnesses. I’d proposed on the roof of Book Tower after watching another sunset, and we’d spent our honeymoon in the Caribbean, soaking up the sun and fucking like rabbits. Our life was everything we’d dreamed it would be, and yet still felt like something had been left unfinished.
That something turned out to be the kids we’d left homeless.
It was Eden’s idea to adopt the siblings, who’d apparently been bounced around in foster care, so I got in touch with Gina, who put in a good word with the court. Soon after that, we’d filed a petition through a lawyer and got the process going. It’d be another few months before we’d be official parents, all dependent on how the kids would adjust to their new life, but they’d be placed in our care until then.
Gina opened the door to where Daniel and Larissa stood in the hallway. They looked cleaner than last time I’d seen them, bathed, at least, and wore clothes that seemed to be their size. The shyness in their eyes told me they hadn’t forgotten me, but maybe didn’t trust me, either.
I knelt down in front of Daniel, my mind spinning over what to the hell to say to him. “Hey, buddy. I, um …. I was …. I mean, we’re …” The words escaped me, and when I looked up at Larissa, who wouldn’t even look at me, I still couldn’t seem to formulate a proper sentence. Like my tongue had been severed, or some shit, which was weird. Should’ve been easy for me, having grown up on the streets most of my life, without a family, or a good home. There should’ve been some kindred connection between the three of us, but even if Kenny was a fucking scumbag piece of shit, the fact was, I’d killed the kids father and lied to them. I’d thrown them into the same system that’d failed me as a kid.
Taking them in was my penance. The right thing to do.
“Are you gonna be my dad?” Daniel stared down at his clasped hands, his pudgy little fingers fidgeting.
“If … if you want that. Yeah, we’d very much like for you to come live with us. If you want that.”
In my periphery, Eden knelt beside me and reached out for Larissa’s hand.
The girl swatted her away and hid her hand behind her back. The sharp angle of her brows told me a world of pain and anger was trapped inside her small, skinny frame. Couldn’t tell if it was her dad, or me, she hated more. I supposed only time would reveal that.
“Larissa, I want you to know … no one’s ever going to hurt you again.” Eden tipped her head, her eyes sympathetic, but sincere. “I promise you that.”
Larissa’s gaze lifted to Eden’s, tears brimming over the bright blue. “No more spankings?”
Eden shook her head. “Never.”
“No more closet time in da scawee basement?” Daniel asked, and the way he tugged at his ear, brows upturned, told me some bad stuff had happened in that basement.
Eden brushed Daniel’s overgrown bangs out of his eyes and cupped his face. “I promise you. No basement.”
“Will you … keep us?” Larissa’s voice wobbled, her question bringing tears to my eyes at the thought of how many times I’d prayed for some kind of permanence as a kid.
“We’d like to, very much.” Eden’s voice, also tinged with tears, carried a promise of hope and happiness and all the things we had planned for the years ahead.
We’d both agreed to give the two of them the kind of life they’d only dreamed about—a normal life where pain and abuse were just stories on the news, shit that happened to someone else.
“Will you come home with us?” Eden reached out her hand again, her lips stretching to a tearful smile as she waited.
Seemed like minutes passed in the span of only a few seconds, and damn my heart, beating against my ribs like the bastard wanted out.
Larissa looked down at her brother, and I caught her small fingers hooking into his, before she reached back to Eden’s outstretched hand.
My muscles sagged with relief, and I expelled a held breath. It’d be a long road ahead, with craggy rocks and bumps, and hills, so many fucking hills, it’d probably make my stomach twist. But we’d keep going, because just like Rudy had said, the highs and lows made up the good shit in life.
I felt Eden’s other hand slide into mine and give a squeeze.
And just like that, we were a family.
* * *
I hope you’ve enjoyed the Vigilantes series! If you’d like to keep up to date on what’s next, be sure to check out my social media links and reading group on the About The Author page.
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Other Books By Keri Lake
VIGILANTES SERIES
RICOCHET
BACKFIRE
INTREPID
BALLISTIC
JUNIPER UNRAVELING SERIES
JUNIPER UNRAVELING
CALICO DESCENDING
KINGS OF CARRION
GOD OF MONSTERS (COMING SOON)
SONS OF WRATH SERIES
SOUL AVENGED
SOUL RESURRECTED
SOUL ENSLAVED
SOUL REDEEMED
THE FALLEN (A SONS OF WRATH SPINOFF)
THE SANDMAN DUET
NOCTURNES & NIGHTMARES
REQUIEM & REVERIE
ST
ANDALONES
RIPPLE EFFECT
MASTER OF SALT & BONES
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About the Author
Keri Lake is a dark romance writer who specializes in demon wrangling, vengeance dealing and wicked twists. Her stories are gritty, with antiheroes that walk the line of good and bad, and feisty heroines who bring them to their knees. When not penning books, she enjoys spending time with her husband, daughters, and their rebellious Labrador (who doesn’t retrieve a damn thing). She runs on strong coffee and alternative music, loves a good red wine, and has a slight addiction to dark chocolate.
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