Red (Black #2) (10 page)

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Authors: T.L Smith

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Red (Black #2)
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I’m bruising her hips now, I can feel my own strength gripping her too tightly that I know bruises will be left. She doesn’t seem to care, it actually makes her go faster, encouraging her. She leans down when she’s coming, her pussy milking my cock and she bites my shoulder, hard. Then I come.

Her head picks up, she smiles at me, hope written on her face. Nothing is written on mine. I know she can see it, her smile drops, her hope dwindles too. I unwrap her legs and place them on solid ground. I smile a sinister smile and speak, “Tomorrow.”

She barely smiles but repeats what I said, and turns away from me as I walk off.

 

 

I don’t know what happened, don’t know how to explain it. He was there, then he wasn’t. He fucked me, and he fucked me hard. It was brilliant but damaging. He remembered me, then he left. I don’t quite understand it, and I stay in the same spot for what seems like ages.

He walked off, didn’t even say goodbye, didn’t want me to come with him. If he remembered me, how could he do something like that? Liam Black wouldn’t have done that to me. Yes, he has pushed me away, and I pushed right back. He wouldn’t have left me, though, I don’t think he could have even he tried. What we had, is hard to describe, and even harder to explain. It’s something people wouldn’t understand. We are two different people, living on two different planets—his is one with no love or feelings and my planet is his.

Jake is at my house when I enter, he takes one look at me, grabs his jacket and storms to the front door. He knows where I’ve been, knows who I was with. I don’t want him angry at Liam, he can’t be.

“Don’t Jake.” He stops with his hand on the door, turns to look at me and grimaces.

“I can get a punch in before he shoots me at least.” He tries to make a joke though it isn’t one. What he says is true. “Tell me what happened, tell me before I make it worse in my head than what it is.”

“He said he remembered, then we…” I stop, to look at him. He nods his head, he understands. “Then he left. Except the way he left, it was like he was punishing me.”

“Punishing you?”

I nod my head.

“So he fucked you in public, then left you?”

I nod my head again, I don’t look up though I hear the door slam as he leaves.

I pace my entry, looking to the door, waiting for him to walk back in. He’s done this before, gotten angry, left, then walks back in a little later. Except this time, I don’t know if he will. I ring Liam, wondering if he will even answer me. To my surprise he does.

“I hate these things,” he grumbles into the phone.

“I know, you always have.”

“Red.”

“Yes, look… Jake is angry with you. He may be there very soon. Don’t shoot him.”

“Shoot him?” he questions me.

“Yes, don’t shoot him.”

“Who is Jake? And why can’t I shoot him?”

I drop the phone, my hands cling to my hair. Really? How is this happening to me? I manage to pick the phone back up, when I do the front door opens and Jake is standing there, his hand is busted, but he’s more relaxed.

“I have to go,” I say into the phone hanging up on him. I don’t wait for a reply or to answer his question. I walk straight to the kitchen, grabbing an ice pack and walking back to where Jake is, still standing in the same spot.

“Thank you.” He winks at me and doesn’t flinch when I place the pack on his knuckles.

“I ain’t promising I won’t get a hit in.”

“I know, just let me deal with it all for now.”

“Have you told him? Told him about Liam?” I shake my head no, he raises an eyebrow at me in question, he always does that to me.

“I don’t think he remembers me.” Jake pulls a tight face, not quite understanding. “I spoke to him. He doesn’t remember you. You should be someone he remembers if he remembers. You were a fixture. I think he only remembers something, not sure what, and I know it’s with me. I just don’t know what exactly.”

“This whole thing is fucked. You know that, right?”

“Also life lifting.”

“How?”

“I wasn’t living before, Jake. I was surviving. I still have nightmares. Now when I have those nightmares, I wake, knowing it’s going to be okay. He’s alive, the devil didn’t take him.”

“The devil?” He shakes his head at me.

“Yes, his blackness. He said it would take him to hell.”

“You’re gonna have to tell him, you can’t wait forever, Rose. He needs to know. Even if he doesn’t remember you, want you, he needs to know he has a child. Let him decide for himself what he wants.”

“He won’t want me?”

“There’s a possibility, Rose, you aren’t embedded on him. You were before, you aren’t now.”

“I’ll embed myself on him again.”

He laughs at me as he grabs the ice pack and walks off.

The kids run to the door, Jake stays down the other end of the house, possibly patching up his hands. My mother smiles at me as she carries Liam in asleep in her arms. I take him from her and thank her, she kisses me on the cheek and leaves. Our relationship has grown, she has grown. She’s dating now, and she’s more involved in our lives.

Hayden smiles and kisses my cheek. I love that boy just like he was my own. To me he
is
mine. He calls me Mom, and I let him. His parents never once tried to contact him, they took off after they got their money from Liam and never looked back.

“Have you seen him?” Hayden asks as I start preparing tonight’s dinner, he sits on the bench watching me.

“Who?”

“Mr. Black.”

I drop the carrot and look at him. He always called him that, Mr. Black. “Have you?”

He nods his head with confirmation. “Yes, I even got in the car with him. He’s much the same, but somehow different.”

“He is, Hayden?” He smiles at me, and I know how much it hurt him when he died. “Don’t go around Mr. Black, okay? Not until I say so.”

“Why Mom?”

“Please just don’t, will you listen to me?” It’s a lot for me to ask that, he was around Liam for so long, Liam was his savior. He did things for him that he didn’t even know he was doing which was effectively saving his life.

“Okay,” he agrees, and I want to believe him. I do. Except it’s Liam, once you love him, it’s hard to let him go.

 

 

My head snaps back, my nose starts dripping with blood, so I wipe at it. The man stands there, smiling, then he walks to me and claps me on the back and hugs me. I want to shoot him, I think I might till he speaks.

“You deserved that, don’t do that to her again.”

“What?”

“You asked me to protect her with my life. I
will
protect her, have been, even if that means from you.”

“Who the fuck are you?” He’s dressed much like my brothers from the club. I can tell automatically he’s a biker. That’s why my hand is on my gun, not moving.

“Your brother man.”

“I know who my brothers are, and soon, they will all be ten feet under. Now would you like to rephrase that?”

He laughs a good belly laugh at me. “Still the same.”

I haven’t moved from the bed I’m on since he hit me, I haven’t been able to move from this bed since last night. My body is breaking out in the shakes, I’ve been sick all night. I only moved inches after the punch to reach for my gun, which is still in hand, no matter who he says he is.

I try to stand, I do, but my body won’t have it. I catch myself on the wall, it doesn’t last long, the dizziness takes over, and soon I’m falling.

I awake to people surrounding me. A man in a suit stands and talks to a woman, her voice is calming. I like her voice, I just can’t see her. Sleep takes me again.

I can feel her hands on my arm and the touch is soft. She runs it along, soothing, except a part of me wants to pull away. I do so, move away, she stands up abruptly. She looks tired, her eyes are bloodshot red. She’s changed her clothes, though, and the bed I’m in, I don’t recognize at all.

“You were having withdrawals.” Her hand shakes, as she runs it through her hair, such long blonde hair. “We don’t quite understand from what, but we have an idea.”

“Idea?” My voice is scratchy. How many days have I been asleep? Or drunk any water? My mouth feels so parched, and lips cracked. I notice the drip in my arm and pull it out, the room I’m in is black, and it feels oddly comforting.

“You have track marks between your toes, did you do that?” Shock and anger radiate through me, anger based on who I think did this. Shock as how they got away with it. She asks me again, “Did you do that, Liam?” Her face is so close, it’s so tired.
Did I make her like that?

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