by Kira Graham
“I didn’t know,” I croak out, my eyes burning when she gasps in a breath and turns away, her body strung so tightly that she looks ready to shatter.
“I thought…that you might have heard, that morning after we…were together, and that that’s why you said that you didn’t want anything, and that I can’t give you what you want.”
“I was talking about…fuck, I don’t know what the hell I was talking about, Sin. I was pissed off, annoyed, and amused all at the same time, and that pissed me off even more. I said what I said to hurt you, but I regretted it immediately,” I confess, swallowing around a thickness in my throat that nearly chokes me. “And I would never say these things just to hurt you,” I tell her, my words halting because I feel as if I’m being strangled by emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me? When did you know? Even if we weren’t friends at the time, baby, you could have talked to me. I would have been there for you.”
“I…it was hard to talk to anyone,” she says softly, taking her time to then lay out a story that breaks my heart into pieces.
About not getting her period and then going to that clinic. Her shame about entertaining those thoughts of termination, even though we all know that she would never have gone through with it. Her finding out that she can’t, or likely won’t, ever have children. Her depression. My continued pursuit at a time when she was so out of control emotionally that it was hard to get out of bed some mornings.
I hear about how she threw herself into work, and how she kept screwing things up, almost as if she were punishing herself. It all unfolds with a whispered devastation, and I find tears leaking from my eyes as I sit and listen quietly, feeling things finally clicking into place for me.
She pushed and pushed at me, until she couldn’t push anymore, and then she hit me with a sledgehammer, because for some reason she believes that having children is the only thing that I could want from her, as if her ability to conceive is the sum total of her worth to me. That is so far from the truth, however, that I can’t even explain how ridiculous it is. Kids? Family? All of that only means a damn if I get to sleep beside her at night and wake beside her in the morning, knowing that I can look forward to seeing her every day for the rest of my life.
It’s her I love, dammit. Her and only her, and if we never get to be parents, then I am more than okay with that. If that’s something that she needs, then we’ll adopt and buy a farm with a million animals—hell, I’ll drop a load in a cup in some doctor’s office and let them make us a baby that way, if that’s what she wants. Because she’s all I want, and as I look at her and hear her sorrow, I know deep down in my soul that she feels the same way about me. She loves me enough that she was willing to lose me so that I could be happy. The only problem is, I haven’t been happy ever since I tried to stop loving her.
“So, yeah. That’s all of it. I’m homeless—again, I’m jobless, I’m apparently as fertile as a dried grapefruit, and…and that’s all I got,” she sighs, throwing her hands up and dropping them helplessly.
“That’s not all you have, Sinai, and I can tell you right now that if you’d been less stubborn about you and me, you would have had me. Hell, you have me now,” I tell her softly, rising to go over to her when she doesn’t move or turn to look at me again. “You’ve always had me. From the moment I saw you, I was yours, lady,” I confess, sliding my hands over her hips and pulling her back into me, so close that I feel her all over me.
“But I can’t…have you. I shouldn’t. I can’t give you what you want.”
“You?” I ask, needing to make her understand that she’s the prize here. Always. “You can’t give me you, babe, or is it that you think you know what I want?” I ask, smiling when she turns with a huff and glares at me.
“You told me that you want like a bajillion kids, jackass, and you know what? Even if I could have children, I would definitely not have given you that many. One was like, my limit, and then…” she says, before she stops talking and looks away. “You want children, and I can’t have any.”
“So what happened? You broke things off with Cole, found all this out, and decided that it was better to push me out of your life completely? That’s bullshit,” I tell her, not caring if it hurts her or pisses her off.
I’m hurt and pissed off that she thinks so little of me that she’d assume I wouldn’t want her because of something so…well, not trivial, because I can see that it hurts her, but it’s not a make-or-break deal. Who needs kids when I have her? I think, avoiding a fist to the gut and pulling her close with her arms pinned to my chest.
“Stop it, dummy. God, you’re such a dummy sometimes, you infuriating woman. I love you. You. Not your uterus or your ovaries. Okay, so I do love your pu—”
“Don’t you dare say that!” Sinai yells, slapping a hand over my mouth and glaring when I chuckle. “That’s gross.”
“Ain’t nothing gross about that sweet piece of heaven, and I won’t stop saying it just because you’re suddenly prudish. I love you. I want you. I wanted you months ago, when I was sending you dick pics and sneaking into your bathroom to watch you shower,” I purr, grinning when she rolls her eyes.
“You’re such a pervert,” she mutters, smiling when I grin and pull her closer, so impossibly close that she can’t ignore just how much of a perv I wanna be with her right now.
Talking is good, and hearing things that we should have talked about months ago is great, but I need her now—and we’ll have time for the rest later.
“Only for you, baby,” I vow, grabbing her ass to pull her up so that her legs are wrapped around my own hips and ass. “How about we talk later, much later, and I can tell you just how much I don’t want children right now? Just you,” I growl, groaning when she presses closer to me and leans in to kiss me.
“Sex isn’t going to solve anything.”
“Says who?”
“A lot of very wise people,” she giggles, moaning when I lean down to nip at her breast, my mouth watering already just from that small tease.
I want so much right now that I feel like I’ll explode if I don’t have it all, instantly. Wet, hot, sweaty sex as I take her with my dick. Her sex in my mouth as I drink her down. Her mouth on mine as she sucks me dry.
What I actually take right now, though, is her kisses, as I silently vow to make this all up to her and earn her trust again.
“I love you,” I murmur as I kiss her deeply, wanting to shout it over and over until she believes me.
That’s all I can do as I take my woman to the heights of pleasure. For now.
Chapter Twenty
Sinai
I huff as I pick at the charred remains of my bed and turn to find Tee glaring at my old bedroom, a contemplative look on her face.
“So, you’re saying…what? You two talked, and you’re just suddenly, miraculously in love again?” she asks, grinning when I snarl at her disdainful tone and flip her off.
“Not ‘suddenly,’ doofus. We’ve always loved each other; we just didn’t ever say it, because, as has become more than clear to me, we don’t talk enough,” I tell her, my body shivering with the cold willies when I see the state of my headboard and remember what Paris told me.
This fire was set in my bedroom, with enough accelerant poured over where I sleep that if I had been in bed, I’d have been fried to a crisp. It sort of gives Mindy’s assertions that I’m going to burn in hell new meaning. Not that I blame her for losing her temper with me when I canceled the dates that she’d set me up on and told her that I’d rather stick with having random dick than commit to anyone but my Paris.
“Talk enough? Girl, as far as I’m concerned, the only talk that you need is dirty talk,” she drawls in a sexy voice that makes me laugh and roll my eyes.
“Whore.”
“Sinner,” she quips back, cackling when I blush and promise myself to never, ever write in my diary again.
There are some things that people just shouldn’t know, and that definitely applies to the sex stuff that I wr
ote in that diary after the week Paris and I had. He took the week off, told Adonis to hire a manager for Helos, and spent nearly all that time with me in bed, doing bad, bad, bad things to each other. Well, some of that time, at least. I had a bit of a blip when I eventually got my period, but he spent a good hour just holding me before he did things to me that shouldn’t happen during my cycle.
Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I had a tampon in the whole time, and no shafts went near any orifice. Let’s just say that the man has a way with his mouth and leave it at that.
“So, you’re good?” Tee asks again, for the umpteenth time, her eyes going soft when I sigh and turn to smile at her.
“Great, actually. Yesterday, he finally went back to work, and I sent him a box filled with Fluffy’s leavings.” No way am I telling her that dog’s real name. I wanna live. “He had a conniption, but, like, how was I supposed to know that it’d be delivered while he was in a meeting? And how was I supposed to know that he has such a weak stomach?” I ask grouchily, a giggle escaping me when I remember the video that Adonis sent me, and let’s just say that Paris Hart projectile vomits like an Olympian.
Tee chuckles, her face breaking into a beautiful smile, before she kicks at the edge of the toast that is my bed and scans the room again.
“This place is un-savable. Nothing is salvageable.”
“I know. I just…wanted to see it,” I sigh, my mouth pulling into a pout when I peer into the closet and see the burnt remains of the clothes that I should have returned.
Not that it’s an issue. Paris, that bonehead, gave me a black credit card and told me to have fun. Hee hee! He doesn’t understand just how unstoppable I can be when I spend money that isn’t mine. Uncle Jack cried buckets when I told him that I’m a kept woman now, and threatened to kill any man who thought that they could take over his caretaking role. So basically, I have a crazy amount of money in my own account, and Paris’s dough to spend like water. Sigh. This is the life. I get the best of both worlds. I don’t have to work unless I want to, which I’m actually still thinking about at the moment, though the thought of all that pressure makes me think that maybe I’ll just open something small like Cleo did, and go from there.
At the moment, though, I’m good. I’m chilling, trying to find a way to get rid of Tee-bag before Paris commits doggy murder or pukes himself to death—what, I can’t help that Tee-bag isn’t housebroken and Paris walks around barefoot in his apartment—and having more sex than should be legal.
So, so far, I’m good. The only spot of darkness on the horizon is the fact that the guy who opened up fire in the country club isn’t talking. Yeah, Nate and Heath finally tracked him down, and, despite being arrested, he’s not talking. Oh, and that means that the lead we need is nonexistent, too.
“Well, can we leave? ’Cause I haven’t had any lovin’ lately, and I have a hot date with Grange,” Tee tells me, purring when I choke and shake my head in mock disgust.
“I thought he loved me. There go my dreams of a boy toy on the side,” I joke, following her out into the living room, which is a little less destroyed, thanks to the lack of actual flames in here.
The smoke ruined everything, though, and the fire department didn’t skimp with the water, either, when they put out the blaze. Thank God Adonis is dealing with all of that, and thank God Uncle Jack paid my insurance, or I’d have to be dealing with all the losses myself right now.
“Paris would kill him. I gotta say, Sinai, you went and chose the easiest-going Hart and ended up with a madman. He threatened to cut Uncle Jack if he put any more money into your bank account,” she laughs, my own laughter joining hers because we all know that I’m shameless in my greed.
“He’s something, all right. You know that he beat the hell out of that guy they arrested when they caught him?” I ask, shivering at the thought. “Nate said that they had to drag him off the man, and that he was fuming because he thinks that it’s the same guy who ran us off the road.”
Tee shrugs and takes one more look around the place, pausing at the front door, before she turns back, a frown covering her brow.
“You know, there’s something that’s been bugging me lately. I don’t remember much, what with Ares smashing me into the floorboards, but I could have sworn that I saw something that night. I’ve been racking my brain to figure out what the hell it is,” she muses, her mouth compressing.
“I—uh, this is gonna sound really weird, but…is it a bumper sticker?” I ask, the disjointed dreams that I’ve been having playing uppermost in my mind. “I keep having these weird dreams, and I wake up whispering the words—”
“Jesus loves you,” Tee finishes, her mouth dropping open when I echo them with a nod.
Once again, that chill of foreboding slams into me, and I find myself shaking as I swallow and ask a question that’s been bugging me for weeks. It’s why I haven’t been near Mindy all that much lately, and why I didn’t go to the Harts’ breakfast on Sunday when I found out that she was going to be there with Nate, who isn’t dating her, if that’s what you’re wondering, but who has elected to be her friend because he’s dating that doctor that Alex set him up with.
“Sin, you don’t think…?” Tee asks, her horror-filled expression mirroring my own.
“I do,” I whisper, a kernel of fear filling me at the thought. “I just…”
“Don’t want to,” Tee says softly, her own eyes closing when I nod.
I’ve been going over and over things in my mind lately, and this kind of makes sense, even if it doesn’t. God, that doesn’t make sense—sorry—but you have to understand that what I’ve been thinking is so out of left field for me, and yet…Mindy is fucking insane. It’s what I love most about that sanctimonious bitch, and now it seems to be something that I should fear and hate as well.
I think…that she’s…the bad guy—er, lady—in this story. I’ve just been hoping that I was wrong.
“No, I don’t. But she’s our girl,” I murmur, biting my lip when Tee snarls, and her eyes go dead.
“Well, if she’s the perp, then she’s a fucking dead girl. We need to call Adonis,” she says, pulling the door open to call out to Sanders, the guy who came up here with us and is standing—
I scream when a gun is the first thing I see, smashed up against Tee’s forehead hard enough that she takes a step and freezes, her eyes going as wide as saucers.
Oh, shit.
“Now, now, ladies. Didn’t your mamas ever teach you that it isn’t nice to tattletale?” Peter Gernert asks softly, his expression serene as he forces Tee back into the apartment and quietly shuts the door behind him.
This is Mindy’s brother—or half brother, if I remember correctly. The son her mother conceived after she was widowed and married her second husband. I’ve never really heard or seen much of him, since we just don’t run in the same circles—by which I mean that I don’t spend every Friday night in a church basement pretending that that’s where I’d rather be instead of out with my girls. He’s on the short side, maybe a few inches taller than Tee, and he’s got the same blond hair and slightly maniacal eyes as Mindy, though I see from the way that he’s staring at Tee’s boobs, where they spill out over her tank top, that he may not be as pure-thinking as his sister.
“Uh…I’m a little confused,” Tee says, her eyes peering sideways at me while she holds her hands out and slowly moves back, stopping beside me when Peter barks at her to stay still.
I breathe a deep sigh when he backs off a little, but it’s short-lived, as he almost immediately swings the gun around my way, pointing it directly at my chest.
“Please don’t shoot me,” I stutter, tears filling my eyes at the thought of dying here after everything that’s happened.
“Don’t point that gun at her, asshole! You want to point it somewhere, point it here, at me,” Tee hisses, her voice trembling when Peter swings the gun back her way, a wave of anger vibrating from him. “But I’m warning you right now that whatever it is you’re
hoping to achieve here—it won’t work. You can pull that trigger, but I promise you, that’ll be the end of you.”
“See? That’s the problem with you bitches. You want the right to say what you want, but you rely on others to fight your battles,” he sneers, his hand shaking. “Move back against the wall, and don’t even think about doing anything, or I will shoot you.”
Shaking, my mind racing with scenarios, I push tightly into Tee’s side and shuffle to the left, my heart beating a hard pulse as we press into the wall beside the TV. There’s soot and ash on everything, and I smell their acrid scent as I bite my lip and eye the door. I want to run so badly that I’m struggling to stay still, when I meet Peter’s eyes and see the anger, madness, and intent there.
Dear God, I don’t want to die today—not when I’ve just reached some kind of stable ground with Paris. I want more days, more time to show him that I love him.
“Please, don’t do this. Think about what you’re doing, Peter,” I murmur, forcing the words through a dry throat thick with fear.
“What I’m doing, Sinai? What am I doing?” he asks, spittle pooling in the corners of his mouth when he hisses the words and jabs the gun my way. “I’m doing what I should have done years ago, when Mindy came home that first time, crying because she had no friends! I’m doing what I wanted to do when I found her in her bathroom on prom night, overdosing on my mom’s sleeping pills because you idiots wouldn’t give her the time of day!”
“That’s not true!” I yell, gasping and rearing back when he takes a step closer and waves the gun right in my face, the barrel so close that it whispers against the skin of my temple. “We were always her friend. She just didn’t want to be friends with us the way we were.”
“The way you were? Whores, you mean? Rich girls who didn’t have to try? Bitches that stuck together like glue and made fun of anyone who crossed their paths? That’s what my sister lived with for years, but this is the last fucking straw, do you hear me? I won’t let her get beaten down again. I won’t watch her ruin her life and vacillate when it comes to killing you.”
