Текст книги "Hold On"

Автор книги: Kristen Ashley

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Текущая страница: 30 (всего у книги 35 страниц)

But as he said it, Peggy stared up at Merry. The instant he was done talking, she looked to me.

The bravado was gone.

The fear was everywhere, all over her face, in the line of her body, even shimmering in the air.

Her little boy felt it and started fretting.

“He might be using,” she whispered to me.

“Addicts do that,” I said carefully. “They mess up. But he’s been clean a long time, Peg. Maybe if you find him, you can get him back on the right road.”

“People at church are helping me. We’ve been trying. Looking everywhere. Where he used to go. Where they know people go. Talking to people who know where people are. We can’t find him,” she shared.

“I—” I began.

“Mrs. Schott,” Merry cut me off. “We got an eleven-year-old’s birthday party happening in that house. I’m sorry, but we need to get back to Ethan and you need to be on your way.”

She looked up at Merry, bouncing her boy up on her hip. He was about to lose it and start bawling, I could tell.

“But my husband has left me,” she told Merry.

“Do you have family? Friends?” Colt asked.

She looked to Colt. “Of course.”

“Then go home and call them.”

She looked beyond Colt to my house. “I was sure he’d be here.”

It was sad—those two kids of hers—tragic, even.

But she’d been married to him for years and she didn’t know Trent at all, which meant Merry was right.

Her problems were hers.

“I gotta get back to Ethan, Peg, but I’ll help you get the kids in the car before I do. Okay?” I offered.

Her eyes drifted to me.

They were brimming with tears.

Shit.

“We got her. You get in there.”

I turned my head and saw Dusty and Rocky moving our way.

Cal was in the yard not too far from Merry and Colt. Mom, Tanner, and Mike were standing on the stoop. Ryker was also in the yard, arms crossed on his chest, looking grouchy. Ryan wasn’t too far away, looking like he was trying to keep some distance from Ryker but also be close to me should I need him.

Rocky went right to Peg’s son on her hip.

Dusty went after the stroller.

And I took that moment to glory in another boon. Not one Merry gave me. One I’d earned myself.

I had really fucking awesome friends.

(Yes, even Ryker.)

“Now, let’s get you in your van,” Rocky urged.

“Go,” Dusty ordered me, commandeering the stroller and turning it down the walk. “Get on in there. Light up the candles. We’ll have our cake when we get back. But save opening the presents. That’s always the best part.”

I nodded, the movement feeling weird, wooden. At first, I didn’t know why.

Watching Rocky bounce Trent’s possibly now fatherless son on her hip while she guided a lost Peggy to her van, following Dusty, I figured it out.

I knew her fear.

And I wasn’t Peg’s biggest fan, but I wouldn’t wish that on anybody.

I looked up at Merry and opened my mouth.

He got in my face.

“Do not go soft on me,” he ordered low.

I closed my mouth.

Just a look. That was all it took.

Jeez, when did he get to know me so well?

“Her bed she made,” he stated.

“But—”

“Monday, I’ll make some calls, do some searches, ask around. If I hear anything, I’ll tell you and you can tell her. I don’t hear anything, I’ll talk to some buds. They’ll keep their eyes peeled. Anyone sees him, they’ll tell me, I’ll tell you, and you can tell her. That’s what I’ll do for Ethan. He’s gonna worry. And since I’m doin’ that for Ethan, I’ll be doin’ it for her. But that’s all I’m gonna do, Cher.”

“I’ll take it,” I replied immediately.

He nodded and muttered, “Let’s get your kid some cake.”

“Yeah,” Ryker boomed. “It’s time for fuckin’ cake.” Then he uncrossed his arms and stalked through Mike and Tanner on my stoop, into my house.

I took one last look toward Dusty, Rocky, and Peggy.

With so many people at my party, the van was down a ways. Rocky and Dusty were strapping in her kids. Peggy was standing on the sidewalk like she didn’t know where she was.

Merry’s arm went around my neck.

He turned me and guided me toward the house, repeating, “Don’t go soft.”

I looked up at him. “You think she can get home?”

“She’s a mom. When she gets behind the wheel, that’ll kick in.”

I knew that was likely true.

Time to focus not on Peggy but on my kid.

“Super stoked you didn’t let me talk you out of the Colts tickets, babe,” I declared. “After this shit, Ethan’s gonna need something awesome to turn his mind.”

This did not make Merry feel any better. I could tell by his jaw going hard, his cheek ticking, and his angry gaze slicing to Colt, who was walking back to the house with us.

Colt also didn’t seem to feel relief that scene was over.

Then again, Colt was a new(ish) dad and Merry was a very new dad-like figure.

I’d been a mother for eleven years and three days.

If something threatened to turn my son’s day to shit, that day was important or not…

No problem.

I had this.

(But the Colts tickets were gonna help.)

(Huge.)

* * * * *

“I wanna talk about it now,” Ethan demanded.

The partygoers were in the living room save me, Mom, Merry, Colt, Feb, Cal, Vi, and Ethan’s seemingly now ever-extending family through Merry—Tanner, Rocky, Dave, Mike, and Dusty.

Little Jack was in the living room with big Jack and Jackie.

Cal had a hold of his daughter, Angela; Mimi had Vi and Cal’s son, Sam, in the other room.

And Tanner had Cecelia in his arms.

I’d noted all this distractedly, seeing as this growing family of friends was literally growing and it was mine, meaning it was Ethan’s, and that was a birthday boon he wouldn’t really understand, but it was his all the same.

But mostly, I was about my kid.

We’d all come into the kitchen after Rocky and Dusty got Peggy on her way. Though, obviously, the rest of us got there first since Rocky and Dusty were getting Peggy on her way.

It was just that Ethan was a little freaked.

Which was making him stubborn.

“I get that,” I replied. “But you got a bunch of people in the other room who wanna watch you open presents, and I, for one, got a craving for R2-D2’s innards.”

I was trying to make a joke, lighten the mood.

Ethan saw through it right away.

“Was Dad there?” he asked.

“Kid, come on,” I replied softly. “We’ll talk after the party’s over.”

“Mom, that’s crazy, her bangin’ on the door like that. Who does that?” Ethan asked me.

A woman whose husband vanished.

“Son—”

Feeling sudden movement, I turned to see Merry, who’d been standing beside me in my face-off with my kid, was now crouching.

“Look at me,” he ordered after he got low.

Ethan stopped scowling at me to look at Merry.

“You can hack it?” Merry asked.

Ethan’s back straightened, but his gaze on Merry didn’t waver.

“I can hack it,” he announced.

Merry looked up at me.

I sucked breath in through my nose.

I had not shared all of Trent’s problems with my son. For instance, he didn’t know his father had used drugs. So he obviously didn’t know how much he had used them either. He also didn’t know his dad had been in trouble with the law. Not once, not several times.

He just knew the things I couldn’t hide—Trent was absent, and when he wasn’t, he was a loser.

I didn’t know what Merry intended to say to my kid.

I just knew I trusted him.

So I nodded.

Merry turned back to my boy.

“Your dad wasn’t there, Ethan. Your dad has problems. He’s got to keep a tight handle on those problems or they’ll get the better of him. He left Peggy without telling her what’s happening with him and she doesn’t know where he is. We can’t know, but this gives indication he’s lost hold and his problems got the better of him. She’s worried, trying to find him, and she thought he would be here. He isn’t, so we couldn’t help her. There’s not much we can do to help her, but I’ll see about doin’ what I can when I’m at work again.”

He shuffled forward, reached out, and curled his hand around the back of my son’s neck.

Then he kept talking.

“It’s important to point out these are not your problems, bud. These are Peggy’s problems. They’re your dad’s problems. Life works out in crazy ways sometimes and it seems your dad gave you and your mom one good thing: when he took off, you guys learned how to manage on your own. So when trouble hits for him, you just keep on rollin’. Now, your mom needs you to keep on rollin’. Can you do that for her?”

“He did to Peggy what he did to Mom, just later, didn’t he?” Ethan asked Merry.

“We don’t know. We just know what I told you,” Merry answered.

“He did to Peggy what he did to Mom,” Ethan muttered.

Merry gave his neck a visible squeeze and light shake, swaying Ethan gently.

“You gonna keep on rollin’?” he asked quietly.

Ethan looked at Merry.

Then he tipped his eyes up at me.

“We’re done with him, Mom. That’s it,” he declared. “He does that to you and me, then he gets Mary and Tobias and does it to them. And even if Peggy is crazy, he did it to her too and that isn’t cool. So even if he does try to come back some day, we’re done. We don’t need him.”

“Your call, honey,” I said softly. “It’s always been your call. And it’ll be your call if something happens and you change your mind.”

He stared at me a beat before he turned back to Merry.

“I’m ready to keep on rollin’, Merry,” he stated.

Merry gave him a grin.

“That’s my boy.”

My heart fluttered.

My son’s chest visibly swelled.

I heard Mom clear her throat.

“Right, I’ll grab the ice cream,” Rocky said.

“Everyone back in the living room,” Dave ordered.

People moved. Merry straightened.

I kept my eyes to my kid.

He felt them and looked up at me.

“You good?” I whispered.

Ethan nodded.

“Let’s go, buddy,” Colt called.

Ethan looked at Colt.

Then he followed his uncle into the living room.

* * * * *

“Holy cramoly!” Ethan shouted, yanked what was inside the envelope out, turned his eyes to Merry, lifted his hand straight into the air, waved it around, and screeched, “Colts tickets! Holy cramoly! I can’t believe it! That’s soooooo awesome!”

He popped up and raced over legs and laps, pushing through bodies until he made it to Merry.

Once there, he threw his arms around Merry’s middle and gave him a big hug.

Even now a big boy at eleven, he didn’t let go and only tipped his head back, my little man smiling huge up at my big man.

“Thanks, Merry! The greatest present ever!” he yelled.

Merry grinned down at my kid and ruffled his hair.

“Glad you dig ’em, bud,” he muttered.

Ethan jumped up, seeming to forget he was still attached to Merry, which meant his jump jolted Merry. This made Merry’s grin turn into a smile.

Then he let go and whirled my way.

“Mom! Isn’t this awesome?” he asked me, waving the tickets.

“Totally, kid,” I answered.

“Ready to ruuuuuuuumble!” Ethan shouted before he shoved his way back to the coffee table, the dissected R2-D2, and more presents.

I was squatting close to my boy, taking notes so Ethan could write thank-yous, shoving spent paper and bows in a trash bag, and finishing up my piece of cake.

I was also allowing myself to enjoy the latest boon.

This being, when life threatened to knock my kid sideways, it had always been me and mom who had to scramble to make sure it didn’t knock anything in him he couldn’t get rid of. Anger. Bitterness. Sadness. Regret.

I looked to Merry to see him watching my kid tearing into his next present, and he had the look on his face that he sometimes had when he looked at me, but modified.

Even modified, it was soft and warm and perfect.

That was my boon.

Because my man dug my kid.

And me and my mom had another member on our team to make sure Ethan didn’t get knocked sideways.

And he was a ringer.

Chapter Twenty-Three

People Like Them

Garrett

Thursday Afternoon

“Yeah. Thanks, man,” Garrett said into his phone. “Later.”

He disconnected.

Colt and Sully were standing next to Mike’s desk, talking to him about a case they were on.

But when Garrett got off the phone, all eyes came to him.

“That was Roy from northwest district,” Garrett said to their unasked question. “Had reason to be chatting with one of his sources. Trent Schott is on the street, scoring.”

“Fuck,” Colt muttered.

“You got a vicinity, you offer Ryker a marker, he’ll find him for you,” Sully suggested.

Garrett looked at Sully. “Schott isn’t my job. His wife isn’t my job. Cher and Ethan are my job. Promised them I’d ask around, but Ethan wants nothing to do with him. We know he’s using. If Cher wants, she can tell Peggy. Anything else is up to her.”

Sully grinned. “You just don’t wanna owe Ryker a marker.”

“There’s that too,” Garrett muttered.

That was when they all grinned at him.

Garrett ignored them and reengaged his phone.

He called his woman.

He gave her the news.

He found out while having a drink as she worked that night that she’d told Peggy. She’d also told her kid. She reported that Ethan cared but pretended he didn’t.

Garrett decided to keep an eye.

And as he did that and the days slid by, he found both mother and son did what they did.

They just kept rolling.

* * * * *

Three Weeks Later

Garrett was sitting at his desk when he got a phone call from Devin.

“Woman packed up. Moved out. On her way to Missouri. Good call, seein’ as her man has spent about thirty hours of the last three days not high, and that’s only ’cause during those hours, he’s been passed out,” Devin declared. “FYI.”

With that, he hung up.

Merry grinned and tossed his phone on his desk, not surprised that Devin had been looking into things. He was a lot like Ryker, but his gig was disguising the fact he gave a shit behind being a crotchety old man, not a huge-ass, scary biker.

Schott using again did not make him grin.

Ethan would be okay.

Cher wouldn’t care, but she would be focused on making sure Ethan was okay.

But, crazy church lady or not, Garrett didn’t like the idea of Peggy Schott having to find a way to raise two kids who were suddenly without their dad.

Missouri was a good call.

He waited until he was face-to-face with his woman to share that news.

She looked relieved.

And regardless of how fucked up the situation was, Cher relieved made Garrett happy.

With Peggy Schott gone, Mia quiet, and no threat on Cher’s street, all this meant Garrett was seriously looking forward to testing out normal with his brown-eyed girl.

* * * * *

They weren’t going to get that.

It just wasn’t what life had in store.

Not for people like them.

Chapter Twenty-Four

On Board with That

Cher

Early Saturday Morning, Late November

The alarm went.

Merry stirred.

I stirred.

Merry turned it off.

I cuddled into him.

He wrapped his arms around me and gave me a squeeze that felt half-affectionate, half-like he was using the movement to wake himself up.

“I got ’im,” I mumbled.

“I got ’im,” he mumbled back.

I pressed closer. “You caught that case last night and got home late. You sleep. I got ’im.”

“Babe.”

I turned my head, touched my lips to his throat, and whispered, “Merry. You gotta let me take care of my kid once in a while. And just sayin’, let me do the same with you too.”

A beat passed before he gave me another squeeze that was all-affectionate.

Then he let me go.

I slid out of his bed, lurched out of his room, closed the door behind me, and walked the short distance down the hall to the other bedroom.

I knocked and opened the door.

In the early morning dark, I saw my kid’s form under the covers in a new double bed. There were nightstands. There were lamps. There were posters of Colts players on the wall.

Although most of it had been thrown away or carted to Goodwill, there was still junk, but Merry had shoved it in the closet.

We were on a sleepover.

They happened these days. It wasn’t frequent, but it happened.

What was frequent was Merry sleeping over at our place. In fact, these days, that was nearly every night.

Unless we were at his.

“Yo, kid. Wake up,” I called. “Time to get ready. Gotta get you to Brendon’s and we can’t be late.”

“Umma, gumma, mumma,” Ethan mumbled.

I should have known it wouldn’t be as easy as calling out to him. It was just six o’clock on a Saturday. He was eleven. Hell, I was thirty-four and I wasn’t real hip on being up at that hour.

I moved to his bed and put a light hand on his shoulder.

“Not my idea to have a full-scale birthday blowout at my dad’s cabin in the middle of nowhere that you gotta drive two hours and then hike through a forest to get to,” I said. “Wasn’t my idea to say yes to that crazy invite either. Since you said yes, you gotta get your butt outta bed and get ready or you’re gonna be late. You don’t want to miss the crazy-train to fishing in the middle of nowhere in November.”

Ethan rolled to his back.

“I’m stupid,” he muttered.

“Hmm…” I replied noncommittally.

“Brendon’s stupid,” he went on.

“Assessing stupidity at this moment, kid, is not gettin’ your butt outta bed.”

He made an unintelligible noise as he threw back the covers.

I moved to the door and, with practice, waited at it as he slumped my way.

I got out of his way and watched him go to the bathroom in the hall, turn the light on, and close the door.

That was when I knew he wouldn’t relapse and face-plant back in bed.

So I returned to Merry’s room.

When I’d closed the door behind me and tiptoed to my bag through the dark, he muttered, “He up?”

“Yeah, gorgeous. Go back to sleep.”

“Sure you don’t want me to take him?” Merry asked, kinda slurred, definitely sleepy, also hot, and last, cute.

“I got him,” I said. “Go back to sleep.”

“Give me gooey before you go,” he ordered, still kinda slurred, sleepy, but definitely cute and hot.

I changed from my pajama bottoms and cami into a bra, jeans, sweater, socks, and boots.

Then I made my way to my man in the bed.

He didn’t move as I put my hand on his hip and leaned in to brush my lips against the stubble of his jaw.

But he did mumble, “Naked when you get back in bed with me.”

Oh yeah.

I could do that.

“Right,” I whispered. “Be back.”

“Later, baby,” he told the pillow, rubbed his face in it and turned his head the other way.

Yeah, again.

Cute.

I did my thing with my kid, making sure he brushed his teeth, was dressed appropriately, had layers just in case the weather changed, and all he needed packed for a cabin-in-the-middle-of-nowhere sleepover. I also made sure he had Brendon’s card and present, and I got a breakfast bar down him.

The last was likely unnecessary. Brendon’s parents had money. For his weekend-long birthday extravaganza in some woods somewhere fishing that had to start at oh-dark-thirty, no doubt they had a catered breakfast buffet waiting at their house.

If it was me, I’d have two dozen Hilligoss donuts. But considering they felt their son’s diet should consist of more than sugar and chemically enhanced colors and flavoring, I figured they probably hadn’t had a donut in their house since…well, they bought their house.

Which was too bad. If they had them, I could have swiped a few for Merry and me.

Instead, I decided to swing by Hilligoss on the way back.

My kid and I got in my car. I took him to Brendon’s. I walked him through the early morning dark to the big house on the Heritage, the ’burg’s fancy-ass housing development.

Brendon’s parents asked me in.

To my shock, they had Hilligoss. Not two dozen. Five. Brendon’s parents did not provide this blessing. Brendon’s uncle did.

They offered me coffee and a donut. I only accepted the donut. When I mentioned Merry, Brendon’s mom packed four for me (probably hoping to get them out of her house as fast as possible). Obviously, I didn’t hesitate to accept.

I made sure I had phone numbers for Brendon’s parents and the other two guys who were going with them to look after the boys.

One number was Brendon’s uncle, the one who brought the donuts. He was also the one I noted with the attention of a woman who had it good at home (which meant absently) was on the upper scale of seriously good-looking. Not to mention he had a strong hint of badass to him, which made me wonder (also absently) what he did for a living.

Brendon’s mom walked me to the door, saying, “Ethan says you’re seeing someone.”

I turned my head to look at her.

We weren’t buds.

She was nice and all, but she lived on the Heritage. She was a stay-at-home mom. She went to yoga classes. She didn’t shop in Indy; she went up to Chicago to get the really good shit. But she did go to Indy to drink martinis (probably—I didn’t know this for sure, I just knew she never came to J&J’s).

I was a bartender who lived in a boho-decorated crackerbox house.

This alone wasn’t conducive to us being buds.

Therefore, I looked at her in surprise, because being nice and all never included anything personal.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“That’s too bad. Jay just filed for divorce. I was thinking of fixing you two up.”

I stopped and stared at her.

Jay was her hot brother-in-law.

And that was life. A dry spell for years after hooking my star to a psychopath, I finally get someone—someone awesome, someone perfect—and some bitch suddenly wants to fix me up with a hot guy.

“Kinda taken,” I muttered.

“If that doesn’t work out, you’ve got his number. He saw you picking up Brendon a couple of weeks back and asked about you. He doesn’t do that kind of thing and not just because he recently filed for divorce. He never did that kind of thing, before her or the last year they’ve been separated. This means he’s interested. So my take, he wouldn’t mind hearing from you.”

I looked down her wide hall with its gleaming wood floors to the tall guy at the end of it wearing khaki cargo pants, a pullover army-green fleece with a half-zipper at his throat, three days of thick stubble, and a seriously attractive smile on his face that he was aiming down at Ethan’s bud Teddy.

He might be fun.

And that was life.

Because I hoped I’d never know if he was or not.

I looked back at Brendon’s mom. “Nice to know. But things are kinda serious with my guy.”

She shrugged and smiled. “Just in case.”

Whatever.

I returned her smile and took off.

I drove back to Merry’s, parked by his Excursion, and hoofed it up to his condo. And I used the key he’d given me the same night he’d given one to Ethan (something he didn’t make a big deal out of, but it was another warm and squishy moment, a huge one) to let myself in.

The condo was dark.

I considered making coffee and taking a cup to Merry with the donuts on a plate so we could scarf them down, doing this to give us both energy to do other things on a lazy Saturday when neither my man nor I had to work and my kid was off in the woods and wouldn’t be home until late tomorrow afternoon.

I went to the bar, dropped the bag of donuts on it, and decided we could come out and make coffee and snarf down donuts later to carb up for a second round.

This meant I peeled off clothes on my way to Merry’s room. By the time I got there, I had my jacket off. My sweater, boots, and socks, all gone.

So I opened the door wearing nothing but jeans and a bra.

What I saw was an empty bed and I could see that clearly because of the light coming from the bathroom.

I moved that way and felt my mouth water when I caught sight of Merry in his navy flannel pajama bottoms and nothing else leaning into a hand on the basin. His hair was a sleepy mess. His stubble was dark against his jaw. And he had a toothbrush in his mouth.

I grinned as I experienced a nice private shiver and moved his way.

Still brushing, he turned his head toward me as I walked into the bathroom.

His blue eyes instantly dropped to my bra.

My eyes dropped to the triceps bunching in his arm braced against the basin.

They moved to his lateral muscle. From there, they drifted down to his ass.

I went where my eyes beckoned and shifted behind him, pressing in. Hands to his waist, I slid them up to his ribs as I bent in and touched my lips to his spine.

I heard him spit out toothpaste foam.

I slid my lips up as I slid my hands in.

The tap went on.

I slid my tongue out and my hands down.

I felt the hair on his stomach.

God, I loved that hair.

I engaged my nails.

Merry’s ab muscles contracted.

The tap went off.

I glided one hand up, flat against his pec. I also glided one hand down, tracing the arrow of hair, going for buried treasure.

I heard a low rumble come from him and he shifted his ass back into my hips.

Oh yeah.

I pressed into him as I bared my teeth, scraped the skin of his back, rubbed my thumb across his nipple, and dove in, pushing into his pajamas and finding treasure.

His thick cock was rock hard.

Fuck yeah.

His body tensed.

“Jesus, Cher,” he growled.

I held tight and stroked.

“Fuck,” he grunted, pushing his dick into my hand.

Fuck yeah.

I stroked harder.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged gruffly.

I licked, kissed, and lightly scraped his back as my free hand roamed his chest and my busy hand worked his dick.

“Wanna feel your tits,” he ordered, voice thick, ass again pressed deep into my hips, letting me do all the work.

One-handed, I undid my bra. I slumped a shoulder so it would drop off. It did and I let it hang on the wrist of the hand engaged in giving my man the good stuff.

I wrapped my arm back around him and pressed my tits into his back.

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned.

I kept at his cock with one hand as my other moved to the waistband of his pajama bottoms at the side. I looked down as I shoved down, watching as I exposed his skin, his muscle, his fine ass.

My legs trembled.

“Baby,” I breathed.

“Knees,” he rumbled.

No hesitation, I let his cock go and dropped to my knees.

Merry turned and shoved his pajama pants down, kicked them aside, and reached to my head.

He didn’t have to guide me. I reached to his hips, latched on, shifted, found the head, and sucked deep.

“Fuck yes,” he said on such a deep groan, I felt it rumble down my throat.

He was right.

Fuck yes.

I sucked him off, giving it everything I had, then giving in when Merry took over, holding my head, fucking my face.

One hand tight to his ass, the other hand tight around the back of his thigh, I took it. I loved it. Fuck, I was thinking I’d come getting it. And when a moan slid up my throat and sounded against his driving dick, he pulled out.

Then I was up, and before I knew it, I was facedown on his bed.

My whole body jerked after he reached a hand around, made light work of my fly, and yanked my jeans down.

My panties went with them and then my hips were up.

“All fours,” Merry growled.

I pushed to my hands.

Merry thrust into my pussy.

My head flew back.

He fucked me harder.

I twisted my neck and looked back at him, panting, gone, but still able to encourage, “Give that to me, baby.”

He pounded deep, eyes to my ass, his cock thrusting inside me, grunting, “So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

I dropped my head, rearing back, gasping, “Yeah, Merry. Please, baby. Keep givin’ that to me.”

He did and he didn’t have to do it for long. I was so primed, I exploded, my arms dropping down, my head flying back. I was trembling even as I was burning—so beautiful, all Merry.

He thrust in, stayed planted, and pushed so I came off my knees, going forward. My legs spread-eagled to accommodate him, flat on my front, he got me in position and resumed moving, driving hard.

My orgasm shifting out, wanting another one, I started to lift up to get my forearms under me in order to drive myself into him.

His hand came to my neck and he gently pushed, grunting, “Baby, stay down.”

My eyes flew open. My mouth went dry.

And my mind blanked.

I wasn’t there.

I wasn’t anywhere.

Not anywhere.

It came to me that I felt my body being fucked.

I was wet. So wet.

Wanting it. God, I wanted to get fucked.

I tried pushing my forearms under me again.

The hand at my neck tightened and I heard, “Stay down.”

Stay down.

I stayed down.

The cock thrusting into me kept doing it. I heard the grunts of effort. Flesh hitting flesh. Then his hand at my neck tightened further as he drove deep, stayed put, and groaned.

I stared at the comforter.

It took a while, a long while, then there was gliding. Slow, sweet, gentle.

Had he been sweet?

He’d been sweet.

But not to me.

Never to me.

To who he wanted me to be.

I felt lips touch my shoulder.

That felt sweet.

But he wasn’t sweet.

I knew sweet.

Now I knew sweet.

It wasn’t him.

“Be back.”

He slid out. I felt covers flipped over me. The bed moved.

He was gone.

I threw the covers back and bolted. On my feet, beside the bed, I saw my jeans and panties.

I didn’t bother with the panties, I yanked on my jeans.

Where was my bra?

Fuck.

I couldn’t find my bra.

Fuck it.

I needed a top.

“Cher?”

I saw my bag in the corner.

That’s where I’d find a top.

I ran to it.

“Cher.”

I dug through.

Who packed this? There was nothing there. Makeup. Deodorant. Socks. Jeans. Some panties.

I needed a goddamned top!

“Baby, what the fuck?”

I felt a hand light on my back.

I whirled viciously, swiping it away.

“Jesus.”

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me,” I bit out.

“Cherie—”

“Do not ever fuckin’ touch me,” I clipped.

I saw a hand come my way, aiming at my jaw, and heard a soft, gentle, sweet repeat of “Cherie—”

I attacked.

Savage.

Wild.

I hit. I kicked. I clawed. I bit.

I heard grunts. I heard curses.

I nearly got caught but leapt away and kept fighting.

Verbally.

“You hold me down, do you see her?” I asked, my voice grating with fury.

“See who?”

“See her. See her. See her! When you hold me down, face in the bed, motherfucker, do you see her? The woman you wish you were fucking?”

“Cher, that’s—”

“Do you?”

“Baby, it’s only you.”

“Fuck you!”

“It’s only ever been you.”

“Fuck you!”

The two words rent the air. They weren’t a crack. They weren’t a slice.

They were a slash.

They went through me.

I felt them.

I just wanted them to go through him.

Leave him bleeding.

Leave him.

Destroy him.

Get him out of me for good.

I had to go.

Fuck.

I had nothing on up top.

I didn’t care.

I turned and ran.

I didn’t make it out the door. I was caught with an arm at my waist.

I started fighting again.

I was shifted to the side, pressed front against a wall, nearly immobilized, only able to kick back.

But I wasn’t hitting anything.

“Calm down.” The growl came at my ear. “Talk to me. What the fuck’s the matter with you?”

“No more. No more of that shit. Hold me down so you can’t see me. Fuck me. Think of her.”

“Have you lost your goddamned mind?”

“You think I don’t know?”

“You don’t know.”

“I know.”

“Jesus, Cher. If you knew, you wouldn’t say this shit. You wouldn’t even think it. It’s you, for fuck’s sake. Been you since the beginning. Never her. Christ, woman, I’m in love with you. Mia does not factor.”