At Peace (22 page)

He pulled her to a stop and looked down at
her. “Your car isn’t gone by noon tomorrow, I’m havin’ it
towed.”

“Can’t pay to ged id back.”

“Not my problem.”

She blinked at him then she did it again then
he watched the drunkenness clear as something profound and ugly
sunk in, bringing with it momentary clarity and she whispered, “You
hate me.”

“Yeah,” Cal told her the truth without
hesitation, not fucking believing she didn’t already know it to the
depth of her bones. “I do. I’ve hated you every fuckin’ day for
seventeen fuckin’ years. The memory of you is like acid in my
fuckin’ veins.”

He watched her face shift, begin to collapse,
her lip trembling. “You loved me once.”

“I don’t now.”

“Joe –” she started but he didn’t let her
finish.

“You give a shit about me at all, after all I
did for you and all you did to fuck up my life, you give the
barest, little, inkling of a shit, you won’t come back. You won’t
remind me. You won’t set that acid to workin’ in my veins.”

She stared up at him, her once pretty blue
eyes clear in her moment of lucidity then she nodded and awkwardly
pulled her arm from his hold. She moved to stand a foot away from
him, staring at the street, biting her lips, her body gently
swaying like a fucking willow branch caught in a light wind.

Five of the longest fucking minutes in his
fucking life slid by before the taxi came. He shoved Bonnie in the
backseat, slammed the door, pulled out his wallet, leaned in
through the passenger side window and yanked a fifty out, handing
it to the driver.

“
Take her home, she doesn’t know where home
is, take her somewhere safe, a shelter if you know where one is,”
Cal ordered.

“Gotcha,” the driver nodded, Cal stepped back
and the taxi pulled away.

Cal watched the street long after the car had
gone from sight. That acid was still in his veins, he could feel
it. It had started pumping the minute he woke up and knew she was
back and the only time he didn’t feel it eating at him was when
Violet was pressed to his back.

He stood outside a long time, apparently
too long because Violet slid into him again, this time pressing up
to his front and wrapping her arms all the way around
him.

He dipped his chin to see she was gazing up
at him.

“Come inside, baby,” she whispered.

It was her calling him “baby” like she did
her daughters, sweet, gentle, tender, that one word getting under
his skin, making Cal give it to her straight and he didn’t delay
but he also didn’t share it all with her, not even half of it.

“That was my ex-wife.”

Violet pressed closer. “I figured something
like that.”

Cal noted the sudden absence of the toxin
searing through his system just as he noted that Violet’s face was
soft, her eyes searching his through the dark. She wasn’t casting
judgment, nothing was working behind her eyes, wondering about him,
about Bonnie, about how he could have been with Bonnie, about the
scene she’d just witnessed. She was focused solely on him and, he
suspected, even though she didn’t know it was there, she had to
know something was, so she was focused on taking away the burning
sting of the poison a visit from Bonnie always injected him
with.

He’d never had that either but having it then
from Vi made him lift his hand and cup her jaw, tilting her head
back further so he could bend his neck and touch his mouth to hers.
He’d done that twice tonight, kissed her lightly, and he couldn’t
remember if he’d ever done that to a woman in his life.

When he did, she unwrapped one of her arms
from his waist and her hand came up, her finger slid down his
hairline then all of her fingers glided into his hair.

She lifted up on her toes and, against his
mouth, she urged, “Come inside, Joe.”

Then she moved away but grabbed his hand and
he allowed her to lead him into his house.

* * * * *

“Fuck,” Cal whispered, his hands in Vi’s
hair, his palms at the sides of her head, his fingers curled around
the back.

She was on her knees in front of him, he was
standing, her hands were at his hips, over his jeans, she’d only
pulled his dick free before she started working him.

Now, if he didn’t stop it, he was going to
come in her mouth.

He pulled out, leaned down and yanked her up
with his hands in her pits. He twisted her, throwing her on the bed
and he covered her.

“Joe, I wanted to –”

His hands found her hips, she was wearing
underwear so he wrenched it, her hips jerked and she gasped to
silence as the material tore free and he tossed it aside.

He wrapped his hand around his cock, guided
the tip inside then surged in.

So slick, so tight, he hadn’t even touched
her, didn’t kiss her, she just led him to the side of the bed,
dropped to her knees, unbuttoned his jeans, wrapped her hand around
his dick and pulled him free then she went down on him and he loved
it that she so obviously got off on giving him head.

“Joe,” she breathed when she was full of
him.

She liked his dick, Christ, she fucking loved
it and didn’t mind him knowing it.

His hand fisted in her hair and he brought
her mouth to his, fucking her hard as he kissed her. She kissed him
back, lifted her cocked legs and pressed them to his sides so he
could ride her harder and drive even deeper.

“Yes, baby,” she moaned into his mouth,
rocking her hips to meet his thrusts.

She’d worked miracles with her mouth. If she
didn’t hurry, he was going to come before her.

“Buddy, hurry, I want you to come with
me.”

“Harder, Joe.”

“Split you in two, I fuck you harder.”

Her arm tightened around his back and her
fingers slid into his hair.

“I can take it.”

He drove into her harder, deeper, so much her
breath hitched with each stroke.

“Baby?” he called.

“Love that, Joe,” she whispered, he couldn’t
believe it but she proved it by kissing him.

He felt it start for her, her cunt spasmed,
sucking him deeper and that felt so fucking good, he had no choice
but to let go so he did and he experienced, for the first time,
sharing an orgasm simultaneously with a partner.

It was
outstanding.

When he was done, he gave her his full weight
and only shifted to a forearm when he heard her breath go
heavy.

“Joe –”

Before he thought about what he was doing,
his head came up and his eyes locked on hers in the dark.

“You even think of tellin’ me you’re goin
home, I swear to Christ –”

Her fingers came to his lips just like he saw
her do to Keira at Colt and Feb’s barbeque.

“Baby, relax,” she whispered. “I was just
gonna tease you about tearing my underwear.”

He felt something contract in the left side
of his chest, something he didn’t get. It wasn’t exactly painful
but it was strong enough that it made itself known. His fingers
curled around her wrist and he pulled her hand away.

“I’ll buy you another pair.”

“
I don’t need another pair.” Her thighs,
still at his sides, pressed deeper. “Anyway, it’s worth the loss to
have that memory. Big, bad, scary Joe Callahan, security to the
stars, losing control and ripping away my underwear.”

He pushed his hips into her and he heard her
suck in breath.

“Not a big fan of bein’ teased, buddy.”

Her arms tightened around him and she
whispered, “Then whoever did it to you wasn’t doin’ it right.”

Cal didn’t reply and she gave him another
squeeze of her arms.

“We got about an hour, Joe, I need to
sleep.”

He again didn’t reply but he pulled out and
righted her in the bed. He tugged off his jeans, pulled her key out
of the pocket, putting it on the nightstand and tossed the jeans
aside. Then he stretched out beside her and yanked the covers over
them. She settled into him, wrapping a leg around his thigh, her
arm around his gut and setting her cheek to his shoulder.

He stared at the dark ceiling and moved his
fingers on her hip and ass until he felt her relax into him.

He thought she was asleep when she mumbled,
“You okay, honey?”

She meant Bonnie.

He closed his eyes and his hand palmed her
ass.

“Go to sleep, Vi.”

“All right,” she whispered on a weak squeeze
of her arm.

He felt sleep claim her and he knew he needed
to be shot of her. He needed this done. He shouldn’t have started
it up again, even with her getting the way it was, he should never
have fucking started it again.

But he did and even knowing he should end it,
he had no intention of doing that.

None whatsoever.

* * * * *

She slid away from him and his eyes opened as
he felt her body leave his bed.

He looked at the clock; it was six
forty-seven.

Fuck. They should have set the alarm, they’d
overslept.

She was hurrying, standing at the side of the
bed, her hands on his tee, ready to pull it off.

“Leave it,” he growled, her body jolted and
she twisted to look over her shoulder at him.

“What?”

“Wear my tee home,” he ordered.

“Wear it home?” she asked, sounding confused
and turning to face him.

“Yeah.”

“But –”

“I wasn’t askin’,” he told her. “Wear it
home.”

“I –” she started, stopped, he watched her
face get soft then she whispered, “Okay.”

She bent down and grabbed her robe and
nightgown and turned to leave.

“Buddy.”

She turned back.

“Get over here.”

“Joe, I slept late,” she told him.

“Come here.”

She hesitated then walked the three steps to
the bed. He reached out, grabbed her hand and yanked hard so she
came off her feet, her hands and a knee landing in the bed. As she
came down, he dropped her hand and hooked his fingers around her
neck, pulling her mouth to his.

He kissed her, her tongue tangling with his
in that way he liked, like they were locked in some kind of hot,
sexy battle for supremacy, winner takes all and then he let her
mouth go but not her neck.

“You kiss me before you leave my house.”

She was breathing heavy and she whispered,
“Okay.”

He touched his mouth to hers for the third
fucking time in less than a fucking day.

Then he said, “Go home.”

“’
Bye Joe.”

“Later buddy.”

He watched as she turned and walked across
his room before he called her name.

“Vi.”

She whirled. “Yeah, Joe?”

He reached to his nightstand and hooked her
key ring on a finger then held it out to her.

She rushed back, snatched the key from his
hand, leaned down, fingers to his cheek and brushed her lips
against his. Then she pulled back, grinned at him, he felt that
contraction in his left chest again before she straightened, turned
and disappeared.

He fell to his back and his hands went to his
face, rubbing his skin.

And again he decided he should end it.

His life was good. He didn’t need anything to
derail it. He’d worked hard, he kept going the way he was, he could
retire to a good life by the time he was fifty.

He travelled a lot, was never home, hated the
fucking winters in Indiana, the cold seeped into your bones. He had
no idea why he kept the house there except that it reminded him of
his Dad, some vague memories of his Mom and then there was the six
months when Nicky was there.

His beach h
ouse in Florida was in the middle of nowhere, two
bedrooms, tiny, a twenty minute drive through the bush just to get
to a grocery store, perfect. Vi’d hate it. He’d taken a woman there
once, didn’t remember her name, blocked it out because the bitch
whined for two full days and he eventually drove her and her
suitcase out, dropped her at the airport and left her
there.

He had his job, his place in Florida, his
plan for his life; he didn’t need Violet’s shit, her problems, her
baggage, her kids. He didn’t need to compete against a dead man, a
cop, probably a good man. A man he couldn’t win against, not only
win Violet but her daughters.

Then there was the time when she found out
the whole story of Bonnie, his Dad, Nicky, how sick that all was,
how crazy sick it was. He remembered, like it was yesterday, the
looks on people’s faces when they saw him after it happened. Their
shock, disgust.

No, he needed to end it with Violet. He
definitely needed to be done with her.

He knew it and, taking his hands from his
face and rolling to his side, smelling her hair on his pillow, he
still knew it.

He just had no intention of doing it.

Come to Jesus

I opened the kitchen door to see, over the
bar opening into the dining area, Kate and Dane going out the front
door.

“We’re goin’ to Joe’s, Mom,” Kate called on a
wave, Dane waved too and then they were out the door.

I stood where I was and stared at the door,
wondering why Kate and Dane were going to Joe’s. I also wondered
why my daughter casually informed me of that fact like she went to
Joe’s every evening before dinner.

“Yo, Momalicious, what’s for dinner?” Keira
asked, wandering down the hall and pulling me out of my stupor.

I closed the door behind me and entered my
house, putting my purse on the counter and deciding then to wonder,
for the fifty thousandth time since I lifted the ban on Dane coming
to the house when I wasn’t there, if I should have lifted the ban
on Dane coming to the house when I wasn’t there. This was something
Kate had difficulty with now that it was summer and she didn’t see
him at school every day so I’d given in but only after I’d given
her an honest sex talk which left us both uncomfortable. Hopefully
Kate more so or at least enough for her to just say no.