I started singing happy birthday and inspired everyone in the room to follow. There were Florence and Mary from the party along with the Huong brothers who flew in specifically for this occasion. Their acquaintances they've made over the years were present as well even though they weren't necessarily as important to the occasion. Arthur and I knew Elijah wanted a big party, so we made it happen.
When I got the cake to the table, I eyed Elijah carefully. He was smiling from ear to ear with such a joyful look in his eyes that I nearly forgot about my wonderful plan. The singing ended, and he squeezed his eyes shut, preparing to blow out the candles. He took a great breath and blew them all out in one go, inviting a round of applause from everyone in attendance.
The lights switched on immediately.
“Everyone thank our wonderful wife, Belle, for her delicious food this evening,” Elijah announced.
More applause filled the room. I raised a hand and blushed, smiling like a starlet posing for the camera. As I wrapped my arm around Elijah's shoulders, I invited Arthur to join us.
“I hope your wish comes true,” I teased.
“You know all my wishes have already come true,” he said through a grin.
When he redirected his eyes to the cake, he paused with the knife in his hand. Arthur leaned over his shoulder to get a better view.
“Might I say, brother, but I don't think you're that old,” Arthur commented.
“No, I'm not. Belle, what's the 1,019 for? Do you really think I'm that ancient?”
I waited until he looked at me and grinned as great a smile as I could muster. I almost felt like I could cry. I think I almost started to until I whispered, “Surprise.”
“1,019? Did you mean ten-nineteen?”
I giggled. “October of this year. We're due.”
His face lit up, and he stood from the chair, dropping the knife immediately. He and Arthur joined me at the hip, and both took my belly at the same time, exclaiming incoherently to the rest of the crowd about our baby that was coming. A great roar echoed from the room that caused my ears to ring as my men planted kisses all over my face.
I could feel their enchanted joy mixed with emotional rapture. I could feel everything—the way the crowd felt, the way the music drifted through the room, and the way the world was turning even now. Because as long as I had Elijah and Arthur, I had my whole world.
I had them, and we were about to have a child—what else could I ever need?
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Chapter 1
Leena
I could hardly feel the heavy sheets of rain as I stood next to my parent’s grave. The ground was freshly disturbed, but it was turning into a pile of mud from the weather. Everything they ever achieved in life was buried six-feet under dirt that people had spit on. It was disgusting and insulting that people as beautiful as my parents were stuck in the earth, bound to the fucking mud and worms.
I was angry.
I was sad.
I was guilty.
I shouldn’t be here. I should have died in that car accident too, but no, I only walked away with glass embedded in my back from the rear windshield shattering. That day would darken my soul for the rest of my life. It was a beautiful day. It wasn’t late, the traffic was non- existent. We were laughing and telling jokes. My mom’s beautiful smile was aimed towards my dad as he did the best impression of Johnny Bravo. He held her hand fiercely, fingers intertwined, like the threads of rope.
The semi-truck came around the turn too fast and the truck driver crossed the double yellow line, hitting the side of our car. The car spun going underneath the truck and the back tires rolled over the front of the car. I’d never forget the metal on metal grinding, sparks flying as the truck dragged us as he slammed on his brakes.
My parents were crushed, but at least they died holding each other. Me on the other hand? I was pried out of the smashed car, completely conscious and saw every drop of blood against the windows. It had dripped out onto the road, pooling like a murder scene.
I didn’t say anything though. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I just knew they were dead. I felt it. I saw it. I was sad but getting mad about something I couldn’t fix seemed pointless. Well, that was what my parents taught me.
The truck driver lived. He didn’t have a scratch on him and the darker part of me, was mad about it. The darker part of me wanted to kill him for what he did. I wanted to run him over with a thousand-pound truck and see how he liked it. But then I remembered my parents, and what they would have said.
“It’s hard to get past hurt and pain because it makes what you feel justified. Just know, you don’t need to justify your feelings. Pain is pain, and it will hurt until you handle it in your heart.”
They wouldn’t want me to ruin this guys life. They wouldn’t want me to press charges, but I wanted to. I felt like… I felt like that was the only way to make their deaths right, but then I thought about it.
Nothing would make their deaths right. So, I ruin this guys life over an accident? It could have happened to anyone, but accepting it was a different story.
My tears mixed with the rain, “You guys were too nice. How am I supposed to move on from you? Who am I going to call at six in the morning, bitching about the crap on the news?” I shouted over the sharp pin pricks of rain. It was coming down hard, flooding the cemetery, and the darker part of me wanted to drown.
Something out of the corner of my eye grabbed my attention. There was a man, soaked to the bone, suit ruined from the mud and rain, and the flowers in his hand drooped from the water running down them like a river. He looked devastated as he stared at me. There was anguish in his eyes, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the rain soaking him, being inconvenient, or a death of a loved one. One thing was for sure, despair and guilt oozed from the man like a disease.
He took a step towards me, allowing me to see his face from breaks in the rain. I couldn’t believe it. This couldn’t be happening. My heart stopped, my lungs ceased, and my head spun. This man…this man that carried ruined flowers was the man that killed my parents.
“He didn’t kill us. It wasn’t murder. It was an accident.”
I tried to think about what my mom would have done, what she would have said, but my emotions were fueling me.
As if they had a mind of their own, my legs carried me towards the depressed man. I stomped through the mud, splashing dirty water all over my legs as I reach him. “You have some nerve coming here! What the hell do you want?” I yelled over the roar of thunder that shook that sky.
The man seemed to be in his late forties, around five-foot-ten inches tall, and had a head full of dark brown hair. Even with the rain, I could see he was crying, tears seemed to always stand out, no matter the situation. It was hard to stay angry with a man that was obviously broken, but I had every right to be.
Didn’t I?
“I know I’m not wanted here, but I wanted…I know…” he stumbled on his words. “It doesn’t mean much to you, me being here, but I wanted to say I was sorry. God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want this to happen. I didn’t want this for you or anyone. I didn’t mean to…I didn’t mean to.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, “I didn’t mean to kill your parents.”
The rain was softening, but it left us soaked regardless.
Tears flowed down my face as I looked into his kind brown eyes, “ I want to hate you.”
He nodded, “You have every right to. I don’t expect your forgiveness, no matter how much I hope for it. Please know, when I went over that turn, I miscalculated the space I had with the truck. I didn’t want my trailer to hit the mountain on the side, but I should have. I would have rather done that, then ruin your life.” He hid his face in his hands, crying, heaving his guilt.
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“My parents wouldn’t want me to hate you because it was an accident. They wouldn’t want me to blame you. They wouldn’t want you to live life like this, with this guilt. A part of me wants you to, though.”
He nodded his head in understanding, “I know. I want to let you know I’ll never forget what happened, and I care.”
I sighed, debating on what to do. I wanted to tell this guy to go to hell. I wanted to punch him in the face for what he did. I wanted to hate him and curse him. I wanted to kill him. I wanted him to suffer, but the rational part of me knew he already was. The irrational part didn’t care, but I wanted to be better. I wanted to be better like my parents.
I glanced down at the flowers he held in his hand, “ Nice roses.”
He lifted them up, and the red roses drooped from being drowned from the massive down pour. They looked pitiful. He laughed, but it sounded depressed, “Yeah, I guess they aren’t much use now.”
“My mom would have loved them. Come on.” I turned, walking towards the gravesite and pointed, “Set them there. She will bitch at my dad in the afterlife about how he never got her flowers, but a stranger did.” I cackled, sounding borderline insane, “ He did though. He got her flowers every Friday.”
He choked on his next words, “I’m sorry I took such great people from you.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat there with him as he cried. He apologized to them and told them he would do better. He decided that he couldn’t drive a truck anymore, not with the weight of what he did on his shoulders. He is a mechanic now, away from traffic, away from people because he is afraid he would hurt them. And it was in that moment that I saw that my life wasn’t the only life that had changed.
Yes, it hurt so damn much that my parents were gone. It hurts so much that I had to see how they died. It hurts so much that I won’t ever get to see them again, or they won’t ever see me get married. My dad won’t walk me down the aisle, if that were to ever happen, and they wouldn’t ever meet their grandchildren, if I were to ever have kids. I wouldn’t get to experience huge milestones with them. I was alone. It was another reason why I was moving to Texas with my best friend. I couldn’t be here anymore, if I stayed, the pain would bound me, and I’d end up being miserable.
And there was more to life than that. I just had to heal, like this man needed to heal. It seemed he had changed his life too, but in a worse way. He blamed himself and if he wasn’t a decent human being, he wouldn’t care what he did. That made that part of me that was dark, a little lighter.
“Leena,” I offered my hand to him wondering if I was crazy.
“What?” He peeked at me with red wet eyes, spit gathered on his lips, and his hands were still on his face, hiding himself away from the world.
“Leena Slater. That’s my name. My parents were Abigale and Martin Slater.”
He held out his hand, “Ryan Gibson.” Ryan whispered like he couldn’t believe what was happening, hell, I couldn’t either.
Continue Reading Two Cowboys to Love, here!
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About the Author
Shae Sullivan is a lover of coffee, cats, and comfy sweaters living in a small town in New England. She loves sitting by a warm fire, reading a super hot book, and hanging out in her local bookstore. When she’s not chasing after this new writing dream of hers, you can find her on social media, here: http://bit.ly/ShaeSullivan
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xo,
Shae
The Virgins Double Bosses: A MFM Billionaire Menage Romance Page 15
