by Brynn Paulin
A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
Forgotten Family
ISBN #978-0-85715-149-0
©Copyright Brynn Paulin 2010
Cover Art by Lyn Taylor ©Copyright May 2010
Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom
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Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-melting.
Circle of Three
FORGOTTEN FAMILY
Brynn Paulin
Dedication
To Manda who understands and to Zane who will never be forgotten.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Oreo: Kraft Foods Holdings, Inc.
Coke: Coca-Cola Company
Chapter One
Marina Cranston stared at the blank hospital walls that had surrounded her for the last week. The staff had told her she was in Marywood Community Hospital. She had no idea where Marywood was located. She was from a town that bore her last name, but she had no idea where it was in relation to where she was now. She had no idea how she was related to those for whom the town was named—or even if she was related. In fact, she knew very little about herself.
She was thirty-five—they’d told her that along with her name—and she must not have family nearby. No one had come to see her.
Getting out of the hospital bed, she walked to the window, thankful someone had brought her regular pyjamas, though she had no idea who it had been. Perhaps someone on the staff had felt sorry for her. She’d have to find out who so she could thank them.
Sightlessly, she stared outside with her arms crossed over her chest. Where would she go from here? The hospital couldn’t keep her in this room forever, even if she did have amnesia. There was nothing physically wrong with her—well, other than having no memory. To some, she supposed, that was a physical problem. Since no one had called or visited, maybe her life wasn’t worth remembering…
This whole situation was ridiculous. A therapist had come in and tested her. Marina remembered the President’s name, how to write, the meaning of every word spoken by the woman, but when asked on what street she lived, her favourite food, her mother’s name… Nothing.
Her doctor had theorised that she might be sub-consciously blocking something. It must be a huge ‘something’ if it had taken all her personal memories.
“You can’t go in there!”
“We’ve waited all damned week! We’re going in. Call security. I’ll call my lawyers,” a man’s voice growled.
“Only her family is allowed.”
“We’re the only family she has!” another male voice protested.
Marina turned and pressed wide-eyed against the window at the sound of the commotion just outside her room. The door flew open, and two well-dressed but haggard-looking men stood in the doorway. A nurse trailed them, babbling about rules and next of kin and violations. Her words faded as Marina stared at the tall, dark-haired men. Their concerned gazes were trained on her as they completely ignored the nurse.
“Baby…” the one with blue eyes said. He stopped inches from Marina, his hands framing her face. His thumbs skimmed over her cheekbones where she knew bruises marred her pale skin. He swallowed as his stare took in all of her.
The other man pressed close. His lips caressed her shoulder, and he inhaled deeply as if breathing her in. “Thank God, you’re okay,” he murmured.
Her hands came up of their own accord, one going around each man. She knew she should be scared—she had no idea who these men were—but fear was the farthest thing from her emotions. An oddly familiar comfort blanketed her. For whatever reason, their presence eased some of the panic that had assailed her all week. They knew her. And they could fill some of the blank spaces in her head.
“Who are you?” she asked, hating the words, hating the hurt that bloomed in their beautiful eyes. They’d already been pain-filled. She’d only made it worse. But she had to know. They were important, and one must be her husband or boyfriend, though from the familiar way they both held her, she couldn’t tell which one.
Having given up on the men, the nurse tugged at Marina’s arm. “Miss, come with me.”
Marina shrugged her off. “I want them here. And I want to stay here.”
“But—”
The blue-eyed man spun on the woman. “She said she wants us here,” he growled. “Now leave us alone with our wife.”
Marina stared at him. Wife? Not ‘my wife’, not ‘his wife’ but…‘our wife’? She might not remember her life, but she knew what was the accepted convention in society and that was one woman and one man.
A riffle of nerves fluttered in her middle. ‘Our wife’ repeated in her thoughts. Our… Our?
As Marina opened her mouth to ask for an explanation, the nurse sputtered something about getting a doctor then left the room, pointedly leaving the door open. It didn’t seem to bother the two men. They were more engrossed in Marina. They led her to the chair next to the bed and crouched before her.
“You really don’t remember us?” the man with brown eyes asked.
She shook her head as she examined him. Tiny lines creased the corners of his eyes and occasional threads of grey streaked his chestnut brown hair, but he still had the look of a young man—a young powerful man with well-developed muscle covering his sturdy frame. Dark circles shadowed the hollows beneath his brown eyes, and she got the impression that he hadn’t slept in days. Neither of them had.
His companion shared the same look, his shadows seeming even darker beneath his light blue eyes. He, too, had tiny lines near his eyes and streaks of silver in his black-brown hair. His large hand cupped her cheek again, and he gave her a half smile.
“I’m Marcus,” he said.
“And I’m Kyle,” the brown-eyed man added. “We’re your husbands.”
She shook her head. “That’s impossible. I can’t be married to two men.”
Rubber soles squeaked on the polished, tile floor as someone rushed into the room. The men stood, flanking Marina and ready to confront whomever planned to challenge them now. She rose as well, and they moved closer to her side. Marcus slid a hand around her waist to support her while Kyle clasped her hand. Her blood pounded through her, making her feel shaky, and she wondered if they felt it.
“Dr. Tanner,” she said, recognising the man who’d been treating her. The nurse was on his heels.
He ignored Marina and focused on her visitors. “You can’t be here.”
“Yes. We. Can,” Marcus responded.
“Why don’t you check her file as we’ve been asking all
week?” Kyle demanded. “She was here two years ago. You have records of our relationship to her—and a waiver Marina signed to give us rights to be with her and to oversee all medical treatment should she be incapacitated. The waiver is still in effect—”
Tanner made a disgusted sound, brushing away Kyle’s words with an impatient gesture. He dismissed the nurse before turning back and abandoning any professionalism. “You’re from that little slice of sin, aren’t you? Cranston?”
The side of Marcus’ mouth lifted, intelligence and amusement dancing in his eyes. “Why, yes, we are. And you’ve got the three head sinners right here. We founded Cranston. I would be Marcus Cranston and this is Kyle Cranston, and you already know this is Marina Cranston. Now, let’s stop the small-minded crap and cut to the chase. What’s the prognosis on Marina’s memory, and when can we take her home?”
The doctor appeared taken aback, and Marina suspected no one stood up to him. Ever.
“Well,” he huffed and proceeded to rattle off a list of possible diagnoses, tossing around medical jargon. He’d discussed it all with Marina, in layman’s terms, a few days ago.
It all came down to one thing. It could be this or that or this or maybe that, but overall, the doctors didn’t know why she had amnesia and when or if her memory would come back.
Obviously, Tanner was using technical gobbledegook rather than everyday language to intimidate Marcus and Kyle. It didn’t work. They listened to the doctor with arms crossed over their chests, their feet parted and their heads slightly cocked to the side. Their intelligent eyes said they understood everything. The pair reminded her of two bodyguards who weren’t falling for anyone’s line.
“So you don’t know,” Kyle paraphrased after Tanner had spoken for several minutes. “And when can she come home?”
“Today,” Tanner answered. “As soon as we verify your supposed paperwork.”
Marcus took a step forward, and the doctor stumbled backward a few feet. Kyle stayed his friend with a hand to his arm. Marcus turned towards him, scowling, and gave a curt nod. “This is why we set up our own clinic in Cranston,” he growled. “These people…”
Marina looked back and forth between the three men. Warmth filled her as Kyle and Marcus protected her like junkyard dogs. She sensed no one would hurt her, no one would touch her and no one would even speak to her unless they said so. She’d been so alone all week. To think they’d been outside, wanting to get to her…
Anger welled inside her, and she wanted to scream at the officials who’d kept them out when she’d needed them.
She glared at Tanner. “It doesn’t matter what the paperwork says. I want to leave.”
* * * *
It was relatively easy to depart the hospital after the confrontation. Marina got the feeling the doctor wanted to be difficult but couldn’t really fight the paperwork that had finally been produced. A call to Marcus and Kyle’s attorney had helped that process, as well. Marcus had paid the bill for her treatment in full then ushered her out to a black SUV near the hospital’s entrance. Kyle had waited behind the wheel. Despite a spacious backseat, she’d ended up between them on the bench seat in the front.
“We need you near us,” Kyle had said. “It’s been a hellish week.”
Marcus had grasped his shoulder, and she’d seen a wash of support move between them, rife with the affection and concern they’d shown for her earlier.
Her mind reeled a million miles a minute as they drove through unfamiliar terrain to their town. Cranston was a little over thirty minutes from Marywood, and nothing looked recognisable. She didn’t feel so much as a glimmer of home. Her hands fisted on her lap as she struggled against frustration and grief for her lost memories. What irreplaceable moments had she forgotten? Mostly, she wanted to know about her life with Marcus and Kyle, and how she’d come to be in such an unorthodox situation.
Her teeth sank into her bottom lip when it trembled, and she swallowed around the rocks that closed off her throat.
Marcus slid his arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay. We’ll help you remember.”
“Dr. Tanner told me I might never remember, that I probably wouldn’t,” she murmured. She took a deep breath, refusing to break down at the gaping emptiness both behind and before her. At least, her future didn’t seem quite as empty now as it had two hours ago. There were people who knew her and cared for her.
“Tanner’s an asshole,” Kyle muttered half under his breath. He shook his head. “You’ll remember. And if you don’t…well, I know it won’t make you feel better, but we’ll make new memories. You’re the strongest woman I know. If anyone can get through this, you can.”
She sighed, and he put his hand over hers. Automatically turning her hand, she laced her fingers through his. A faint shot of recognition tickled her recollection and gave her hope. They’d done this before.
Or she’d done it with someone. Maybe it had nothing to do with him.
No, she’d been with Kyle and Marcus for a while. Intimately from what they’d indicated. The records at the hospital had proved that they’d been together at least since the papers originally had been filed. When had Kyle said that had been? About two years ago? The three of them were…
Her brow furrowed. The men had referred to themselves as her husbands, and they all bore the same last name. Tanner had demanded their IDs at one point. She’d spied a look at their licenses. Same last name. Same address. Both matched her own license.
“You called yourselves my husbands,” she said. “Explain that to me. I might not have memories, but I know polygamy hasn’t been legalised in the United States.”
Kyle squeezed her hand.
“We live an alternate lifestyle,” Marcus began. “Two men together with one woman.”
“All the trios in Cranston do,” Kyle added.
“But legally—”
“No, we don’t have state-recognised marriages,” Marcus interrupted her. “But we do have marriages—spiritual rather than civil. Those committed to one another in Cranston have public ceremonies in which they unite with one another, just like in a regular marriage except these are trinogomous unions. In conjunction with the ceremony, the men change their last names to that of the woman they’ve committed to. My last name used to be Byrnam and Kyle’s was Gerber.”
It all sounded so…organised and normal when he explained it as he did. But she knew it wasn’t, though apparently a lot of people in their community lived this lifestyle as well.
“And I…did this?” she asked.
“Thirteen years ago, right after we founded Cranston,” Kyle replied. “But we’ve been together for fifteen.”
She bit her lip as she contemplated the dynamics of it. “It all seems so foreign, so…wanting my cake and getting it, too. As if I couldn’t choose one of you so I took both of you.”
Marcus laughed. “There was never a choice to make. Kyle and I were a package deal. I grew up in a ménage family—two dads and one mom. And one of my dads also grew up in a ménage family, and one of his dads did, too. It’s kind of a way of life for us, though in years past it was much harder for trios than it is now. Kyle and I met as freshmen in high school and went to college together. He was fully invested in this sort of relationship before you ever entered our lives. We’d known for years that we would eventually share one woman.” His voice softened and tenderly caressed her senses, sending a quiver into her pussy as her womb pulled tight. “Once we met you…it could never be anyone else.”
She turned to look at him, and he lowered his head. Almost from instinct, she lifted her face to him. Her lips parted against his, allowing his gentle exploration.
Kyle squeezed the hand he still gripped as tendrils of warm arousal threaded through her body. He didn’t seem to mind that his partner kissed her. There didn’t seem to be a scrap of jealousy. This seemed to be the norm. She sensed he expected and even enjoyed her intimacy with Marcus. Going with that belief and overwhelmed by the dynamics of the situation, she sank into
Marcus and let him show her the way.
His full lips caressed her as he delved inside her mouth with his tongue. Bittersweet feelings made her skin tingle as she felt the pain he held back at her memory loss. He didn’t touch her apart from her mouth, all of his longing and emotions conveyed with his tender kiss. Tears stung her eyes at his gentle possession and the care he took not to frighten her.
She needed to remember. She needed to know what it was like in these men’s lives.
Before the kiss could go too far, Marcus pulled away and lightly ran his thumb over her bottom lip. At the same time, Kyle slowed as they approached a wrought-iron gate. It opened, but he stopped the SUV as a smiling woman in a dark blue uniform left the guard house beside the entry and hurried to the car. A twine-tied stack of envelopes swung from her fingers.
“Hi, Irene,” Kyle said, greeting the dark-skinned woman.
“Hey Kyle, Marcus.” She bent to look at Marina. “Hey Marina, hon. How’re ya doin’?”
“Good, considering,” Marina answered with a shrug.
“Don’t you worry none. I bet you’ll be back in the game before you know it,” Irene assured her. She reached inside and handed Marina the stack of letters. “A bunch of us—well, just about all the families, I guess—have cards for you. We all wrote down some of our best memories with you.”
“Thank you.” Marina’s voice was a choked whisper as she fingered the string tied in a bow around the stack. She looked up, her vision blurring with her tears at this town’s kindness. “Thank you…more than I can say…”
Irene clasped the window frame. “You hang in there, hon. You’ll be a hundred percent before you know it. With these guys here, you’re in good hands. They’ll see you through.”
