The Predator [2]

by Brooke May

  “Oh, you old tease.” For the first time since getting in the car to come here, I smile.

  She looks back at me. “Seriously, though, those rumors about you two supporting your father aren’t true, are they?” Mrs. Harth has always known how I was treated. Grandma told her everything. I honestly don’t think either one of them ever liked my mother; my grandfather was the one to approve her marriage to my father.

  “No,” I whisper.

  “I didn’t think so. If it wasn’t for my son, Richard, I wouldn’t be here tonight. But he doesn’t think I get out enough, and of course, he is a huge supporter. I thought I raised him better.”

  “And you aren’t, ma’am?” Chamberlain finally enters the conversation.

  “Hell would sooner freeze over before I support that pompous little prick.” Chamberlain looks flabbergasted as I choke back a laugh.

  “Chamberlain, Katherine, we must get to our seats now.” My mother walks over, interrupting a nice reunion.

  “We’ll have to get together sometime, K.C.”

  “I would love that.” I dig into my clutch for a small notepad and pencil and scribble down my number. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

  “Doris,” my mother says curtly.

  “Carol,” Mrs. Harth scowls.

  When we arrive at our table, Zoey and Timothy are already there. They don’t look like the happy couple seen on television with their backs to one another. Zoey is barely twenty-one and is downing a martini like it was water, and Timothy’s eyes wander the room, stopping every so often before he returns them to the table.

  He looks completely different; he’s aged around his eyes, which now hold a cold darkness to them. Chamberlain looms closely to me as he pulls out my seat. “I’m looking forward to raining on their parade,” he whispers into my ear and places a kiss the spot behind my ear just as I take my seat. “McGarth.” He nods at Timothy as he takes his own seat, moving it closer to me when he gets no reply, and finds Timothy staring blatantly at me.

  “Katherine.” Timothy licks his bottom lip, and I curl mine in disgust. “You look lovely.” His voice is icky and makes me feel the need to scrub my ears.

  “Timothy.” I look down at the dainty menu in front of me. “What are you going to have?” I lean into Chamberlain. He reads over my shoulder instead of looking at his own.

  “Whatever—”

  “It must be nice to have a night away from the brat, ah?” Zoey’s slightly slurred question cuts off Chamberlain. I look at her and find her glass hanging off two of her thin fingers, her eyelids are drawn low, and there is a touch of blush on her face. She’s drunk.

  “To a point, yes.” I straighten my back and sit up taller. I will not cower to her in any way. If she wants to be nasty and try to get to me, then she can try. “I’m glad she isn’t here tonight, but I do miss her.”

  “Why?” Zoey flops back in her seat with absolutely no class. “When we have children, I am making sure we have the best nannies we can buy, and then when they are old enough, it’s off to boarding school.” Timothy says nothing; he only continues to stare at me with a lustful glint in his eyes, making me want to hide behind my very strong and very large husband.

  “We all have our own way of raising children. Mine is more of a hands-on approach. I love being a mom.” My eyes cut into her. “There is no greater joy to me than seeing my daughter grow and change.”

  “I, for one, think if you are going to just ship your kids away, then you’re better off not having any.” Chamberlain’s strong, steady voice carries across the table. “They aren’t tools to improve your life.” I don’t try to reprimand him for his scowl.

  Zoey only shrugs. Obviously, the liquor in her system has dulled everything. “I prefer to travel and have the nice things.” She sneers at us. “Children are just leeches.”

  “Like you are?” Chamberlain’s brow twitches. “I love being able to give my daughter things I couldn’t have and most of all, give her my love.”

  Zoey leans into the table, slipping in the smallest way. “Who the fu—”

  “Zoey, enough.” Timothy pulls her back and glares. I see he’s learned from his father how to demean his woman like the rest of them.

  I turn to Chamberlain, ignoring whatever Timothy is going to say to Zoey. I’m completely shocked when he stands and walks off. Zoey doesn’t seem to care as she orders another martini. “Can we get this over with yet?” I lay my head on Chamberlain’s shoulder.

  “Soon. I ordered for you.” He places his hand on my cheek, hugging me to his shoulder.

  “Thank you.” I want to get this over with. I don’t want to be here, but Chamberlain has to do what he needs, whatever it is.

  When my parents sit along with Mr. and Mrs. McGarth, the chatter at the table quiets and all focus goes to my parents—like what they have to say is so important that they have to hear it. I place my napkin beside my plate and stand. “Excuse me.” I nod and look down at Chamberlain. “Be right back.”

  “Want me to come with you?” His genuine concern warms me.

  “No, I just need to use the restroom.” I place a light kiss on his cheek and head off to the bathrooms. Digging in my clutch, I round the corner and come to a halt when I see a couple in a passionate embrace. The man’s hand is gliding up the woman’s exposed leg, and he begins to trail kisses down the column of her neck as she drops her head back.

  The light catches the man’s face as he makes his way back up her neck and his hand goes to grab her breast with no modesty.

  It’s Timothy.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Katie

  I’M REALLY NOT surprised; like father like son, they say. A devilish grin spreads across my face as I fold my arms. “Zoey must be a big prude if you can’t kiss her like that.”

  The woman shrieks and jumps away from Timothy, trying to right her dress before she runs off. Timothy leans against the wall, head dipped, and by the movement of his back, he’s trying to catch his breath. It probably isn’t every day he gets caught with one woman when he is engaged to another.

  Not that I care.

  I go to pass him to get to the ladies’ room, but he stops me by shooting out his hand and grabbing my bare arm. “I could kiss you like that and so much more. You would like that, wouldn’t you, Katherine?” The tone his voice holds is one of seduction—one I’m sure he’s used before, and it has worked but not with me.

  “Let. Go. Of. Me.” I rip my arm from him, stronger than he thought. He disgusts me.

  “Oh, come on. I know the reason a guy like the one you are with now keeps you around for.” He leans into my arm as I try to move away from him, but he stops me. “You must give pretty good if you can keep him around.”

  My knuckles crack as I squeeze my hands closed. “Back. Off.” I growl.

  “Come on; no one will know.” He tries to nuzzle my ear, but I take the opportunity to step in and slam my fist into his gut. I would draw my knee up to his groin, but the dress won’t allow for that much movement. “Shit.” He falls back against the other wall. Forget going to the bathroom; I want to leave. I turn around to go get Chamberlain, only to find him barreling toward us, like the beast he is.

  Timothy’s dead.

  Timothy has no time to recover from my attack when Chamberlain’s hand connects with his throat and slams him against the wall. Chamberlain pulls him up the wall to his height. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, touching my wife?”

  Timothy grabs at Chamberlain’s hand, trying to loosen the hold so he can breathe. “Ease back a bit, Chamberlain.” I lift my chin, but I don’t try to stop this. Timothy needs a very good lesson in not messing with women.

  “Don’t ever fucking touch her again. Don’t contact us; don’t even think about any of u because if you do, I will make your life a living hell.” Chamberlain snarls. I have to admit, him going all protective and deadly is hot.

  “What the hell is going on back here?” Zoey’s scream pulls both Chamberla
in’s and my attention down the hallway. She’s staggering over to us. “Let him go, you barbarian!” Her weak attempt to hit Chamberlain is laughable.

  Chamberlain drops Timothy, who falls to the floor gasping for air. Chamberlain moves to my side.

  “You’re ruining everything!” Zoey’s screams grow louder, and I’m sure others can now hear.

  “Come on,” I pull Chamberlain away and back to the dining area.

  “I told them not to invite you!” Zoey’s drunken screams follow us. “You’re nothing but a piece of sh—”

  “Zoey.” She startles as our father’s voice booms. “That is quite enough.” He steps closer and glares down at Timothy. “Take her home, now.” He turns back to us, eyes softening, but I don’t buy it. “Sorry about that, she’s—”

  I lift my hand. “Forget it.” I glare at him. “Come on.” I pull Chamberlain away and back to our table. “Get this over with, please.”

  “On it.” He squeezes my hand.

  My father follows us and takes his seat again like nothing just happened. Zoey and Timothy do not return as our meals arrive, and the only noise through the whole room is whispered talks and cutlery clinking against the plates. Chamberlain looks completely composed next to me, but I can feel the tension radiating off him.

  It grows when my father stands and gives a short speech about his goals for the presidency and other things that I don’t pay any attention to. I watch the reporters flocking around him to get the story. “Is there anyone else who would like to say something?”

  Timothy Senior starts to stand, but Chamberlain beats him to it. “I have a short speech prepared, Douglas.” Chamberlain oozes complete composure and grace as he buttons his jacket and walks to the stage.

  My father waves and motions to the reporters, making sure they get a picture of them together and to hear what Chamberlain has to say. I feel like I’m on an island by myself. Adrift in a group of people I have no desire to have anything to do with.

  Well, except for Mrs. Harth.

  Chamberlain pulls a crumpled piece of paper out of his inside pocket and unfolds it while my father returns to his seat. Chamberlain looks at me and winks. I have a feeling I don’t want to be sitting here when he’s done, but I can’t move.

  “Good evening everyone.” His strong voice carries through the whole room, much more than my father’s did. “I’ve been working on a little something to say for tonight.” He looks down at his paper. And then before my eyes, I see the tension dissolve and his protective confidence shine. A soft smile dances on my lips.

  “I have only personally talked to Douglas on a handful of occasions.” Chamberlain looks up at the crowd. “The first time was in this very room where he told me to get the hell away from his daughter.” I look at my father and find a somber look. “The next time I talked to him was to find out where he sent his daughter, who is now my lovely wife.” My mother’s grip on her napkin tightens. “Only later did I find out, after numerous attempts to find her, Douglas and the rest of the Cunninghams refusing to tell me anything, hiring a private investigator, and eventually finding her that it wasn’t necessarily me for the reason she vanished, but them. I discovered after reuniting with Katie that they sent her away when she refused to abort our daughter.”

  A collection of gasps sounds in unison. One of my father’s platforms is family and absolutely against abortion. “What kind of person does that to their own flesh and blood? They looked down on Katie for as long as I can remember from our short time together four years ago. She always wanted to help people, and she followed her heart and her dreams only to have them turn down their noses at her.” He now looks at my parents. “You disowned her and told her to never contact you again, yet when you need something you have no problem playing the doting father.”

  My father goes to stand, but Chamberlain shoots a stern look that has him freezing. “You are a coward, Douglas, and in no way, shape, or form will my wife and I ever support you trying to gain a powerful position. What would you use it for? Get more mistresses, or pacify your wife and only daughter you have ever recognized as yours with plastic surgery and liquor?”

  “Why you—”

  “You don’t deserve to lead the people of this country. You’ve used your old money and influence to benefit only yourself. Where is all the support you say you give to the people in need in this state? In this city? I donate enough to several charities that I know not a drop of that money you claim to raise goes toward them.” Chamberlain looks back at the reporters. “For you to report on, you can tell the public that boxer Chamberlain Lawrence and his wife have washed their hands of these people and will never support any of them.” Chamberlain charges down the stages and comes to me.

  “You won’t get away with this,” Douglas threatens. After Chamberlain’s speech, he is no longer my father and Carol is no longer my mother; I only have Fiona. After all, she raised me, cared for me, and taught me to be the person I am now.

  “Come on, panda,” Chamberlain holds out his hand to me, which I more than gladly take. He doesn’t even look at them. “I believe I just did,” he answers Douglas, and we leave the room, reporters buzzing around the Cunninghams. I can hear the distinct laugh of Mrs. Harth when we finally leave the room and head to the valet to get out of here.

  “I love you.” I nuzzle under his strong jaw as we wait for the car.

  A content sound vibrates off his chest. “You’re safe now.”

  “I am as long as you are near.”

  XOXO

  I SIT HAPPY as a lark on Chamberlain’s lap in the kitchen while we feed each other breakfast. Last night, when we got home, he carried up to our room and proceeded to remove my dress and make slow, loving, passionate love to me before exhaustion forced us to sleep.

  Marissa is sitting across from us, munching away on her oatmeal. Fiona is humming around behind us with the low sound of the television in the living room. Beth is flipping through a health magazine, and Scott is rehashing last night’s events with Chamberlain.

  “I wish I could have been there.”

  “I’m sure we’ll see it in some shape or form in the next few days.” I’ve been in a dream-like state since I woke earlier. For the first time since as far back as I can remember, I don’t have to worry about them.

  I’m sure someday we will tell Marissa about them, but for now, we will keep her innocent from the truth behind my parentage. She is the daughter of two people who fell in love before she was born and found each other once more.

  “I think it will be sooner than that.” Fiona points with her spatula at the television. Chamberlain grabs the remote from the breakfast bar and turns it up.

  This just arrived at our studio. After some information was released about Senator Cunningham last night, the senator will be dropping out of the presidential race,” the reporter announces.

  “Wow, I did not see that coming. Cunningham was making such great progress. Was it money issues?”

  “No, according to our sources and one of our field reporters who was at the senator’s event last night, Chamberlain Lawrence, a professional boxer, has come out to state that he does not support his father-in-law and some other things.”

  “I think it was recorded, right? Mr. Lawrence’s speech?”

  “I believe so. Can we get it up?”

  The screen turns to Chamberlain giving his speech. They replay it and then cut it as Chamberlain is walking off the stage.

  “That can’t be good for the Cunningham family.”

  “I would have to agree with you.”

  Shaking his head, Chamberlain shuts the television off.

  “Awesome,” Beth and Scott say at the same time.

  Chamberlain rubs his nose against the shell of my ear and in his overly quiet tone, the one I can only hear, he says, “Now, I can focus on giving you a baby.”

  The butterflies in my chest start to flutter as my lower muscles clench, and I grow wet with anticipation.

  “I can’t wa
it.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Katie

  A MOAN ROCKS through me, my lower body bowing up to meet Chamberlain’s powerful thrusts as he surges into me. His strong, thick arm wraps around my back, lifting me effortlessly and never breaking his relentless rhythm. With one orgasm already ripped from my body and another quickly building, I go placidly and drop my arms over his massive shoulders.

  “You feel so good, baby.” Chamberlain’s sweaty chest rumbles against me as he speaks into my ear. My nipples slide against him with ease and delicious friction that normally has me going crazy but an ache bordering on pain right now. And not it in a good way.

  “Chamberlain. Ooooh!” I try and fail to grab him. I’m covered in just the same amount of sweat as him. My fingers fail to grip any part of him; I can’t even keep my hands linked together. “So. Close.” I squeeze my eyes shut, doing the same with my inner muscles.

  “Fuck,” Chamberlain hisses, pistoning faster and stronger. “Give me your face; I need to see you come apart, Katie.” I do my best to move back far enough to see him, doing my best to hold the base of his neck with my fingers in his hair. “Beautiful.”

  My eyes flutter open, and I watch his jaw clench, tensing as he tries to prolong his own release until mine has thrown me from the ledge. My head lolls back when the tidal wave of my orgasm slams into me. Chamberlain’s hot breath is on my neck, scattering kisses all over the place while he continues his own pace and his delicate touches to my hips.

  “Katie!” he wails, thrusting into me and shooting his seed deep into me. I stay upright in his arms, feeling him pulsating within me, his heavy breathing on the sheen of sweat on my chest and neck. My heart feels like it is about to burst from my chest and my core feels satisfied for the moment.

  Since we dealt with Douglas and Carol three months ago, things have become normal, happy, and wonderful for all of us. Chamberlain has gone back to training full-time and is more focused than ever, or so says Scott.