Total LockDown (LockDown #2) (10 page)

“Are you sure
you are ready?” I ask Abbi as she places her shoes on her tiny little feet.

“Yup, so bloody
ready.” She stands up, brushing down her clothes. Her hands are still bandaged,
but luckily, no bone damage has occurred. She had smashed the shit out of them;
a nearby witness said she had been screaming at the mirrors to stop laughing.
She had apparently smashed them all, trying to fight away the voices. Then she
started on the plastered wall when she had run out of glass. She is lucky to
have only cuts and bruises and no breaks or nerve damage.

“Cool, let’s
go.” I take her hand, clasping it in my own. It fits perfectly there, just
where it should be, forever. It feels so good leaving this god damn psych
centre, ready to start this all over again, to begin anew.

“I can't wait to
see her,” I know how hard it has been on Abigail not seeing Melissa, but I
wasn’t having her around Abbi whilst she recovered. She has been in hospital
for a month, first starting  on a general ward, then moving to a psychiatric
ward for assessment and rehab. She has eventually stopped all her signs of
withdrawing. The shakes, sickness and full body aching has now subsided and her
mental state is in a very good place, well as far as I can tell, and by what
the doctors tell me.

“I know she
misses you too. She smiles every time I say ‘Mummy’s going to be home soon’.
She needs you just as much as you need her, baby. She is waiting for you now.”
I can't wait to get my woman home and into bed. Yes, I know, what a time to be
thinking about sliding into her, but it has been a month goddamn it, and my
balls are fucking blue.

I haven’t had
any sexual contact, except for kissing, since the one time in her hospital
room. I crave her taste, to feel her hot cunt under my tongue, her tiny tight
body writhing beneath my touch.

“Come on, let’s
go, Angel.” I pull her from her room at the rehab centre, shutting the door
behind us and never looking back.

*****

Abbi is quiet on
the way home, her eyes fixated out of the window. I know what she is thinking.
It is the same every time. She is remembering the first time I drove her past
these landscapes of Surrey. The first time her eyes had seen green grass and
flowers. Every time I have driven my car past them with Abigail considering that
view, we have been starting something new. First time, I had rescued her from
herself and the life she was living, secondly, bringing our beautiful girl home
ready to raise her together, and the third time, now. Both of us been knocked
down so low but having brought each other back up again.

I haven’t had
cocaine in three weeks. For the first week of Abbi’s stay in hospital, I had
needed it bad, seeing the way the withdrawals had taken over her body, making
her violently ill without me being able to help in the slightest, it had me
feeling so raw and open that I needed some way to deal with it. However, after
the worst of her rehab had passed, I had been able to open my mind a little and
concentrate on what was important. I needed to look after my little girl and
not fob her off on my friends. I needed to push through the hard times with my,
soon to be again, fiancée. I needed to get her well and back home again, back
where she belongs.

“Baby, are you
alright?” I ask her, trying my hardest to distract her from her
self-destructive thoughts. They have no place here anymore. Phillip is gone I
know a hundred per cent the rest of his fuckers won't dare show their faces
anymore. We have no more threats and nothing to be scared of; we can live like
normal people, happy, carefree and safe.

“Yeah, I’m okay,
just having a moment. Just thinking about the times, those fields appealed to
me so much, the times they represented freedom and a new start.” She looks to
me, her eyes glazed, but they are happy. I can see her excitement behind them.
Our little girl is waiting at home for her.

“I know, Angel,
and it will be the best new start. We belong together, Abbi, you and I, we are
one.” She smiles at me, her sparkling teeth showing through the slit in her
lips. She tilts her head to the side affectionately, reaching her hand out to
stroke my cheek. I lean my head into her caress, comforted by the warmth and
softness of her skin.

Ten minutes
later, we arrive back at our home. The huge gates open up and let us in. I
think to myself, as I park the Audi 4x4 outside the front doors, ‘sometimes,
you have to go through hell, to find your little piece of heaven,’ and I have
found my heaven, truly, a big old slice of it. We have been through every level
of hell this month, with Abigail’s recovery, but we have come out the other
side stronger. I don't hold any of the past on her, I love her more than I ever
have, because of the strength, she has pushed herself through rehab, and I want
nothing more than to get her indoors, place our Melissa in her arms and watch
the look on her face that she always got when my baby snuggled into her.

I open the front
door with my key, the wood swinging open wide enough to enable us both through.
Abbi walks ahead of me, once again breathing in the smell of her home. “Home.”
She says quietly to herself. I can see her cheeks rising from the side, her
smile obviously beaming across the huge expanse of the hallways.

I can still
remember vividly the way she reacted the first time I brought her here. She had
passed out on me that day; the utter shock of her new home was too much to deal
with.

“Yes, home, it’s
complete again.” I tell her, walking up and wrapping my arms around her
stomach, splaying my hands against her emptiness. I hope, one day, not too far
away, she will bear me another child. I love nothing more than being a father,
the feeling is so fulfilling and amazing and words couldn’t describe it.
Melissa is everything to me, her mother the same. I will do anything for them;
I will fight wars, kill and even die to protect them.

A cry sounds
from the lounge area down the hallway and Abigail’s eyes shoot up immediately
at the sounds coming from our daughter. “Melissa.” She looks to me, her eyes
full of unshed tears and then she takes off down the corridor.

I place her bags
in the lobby, ready to take them to our room later. I follow the direction in
which she had sprinted, no crying present in the vicinity anymore.

When I arrive,
my beautiful woman  stood holding our three-month-old daughter, in her arms,
her little head plastered against Abigail’s chest.  The sobs that are erupting
from her aren’t natural. They sound like a wounded animal. In some ways that’s
exactly what she is, a human being who has been subjected to so much violence,
hurt, betrayal and sadness in her life, that when the littlest rays of sunshine
show through, she grasps them as tightly as is humanly possible to stop them
slipping away.

I stand in the
doorway, my body leaning against the frame as I just watch her reunite with
Melissa.

“Oh, God, my
baby girl, Mamma missed you so much, Princess, I’ll never leave you again,
never. I'm here baby.” Her tears are coating the thick blonde hair atop our
daughters head and trickling down her soft cheeks onto her baby grow.

Antonio and
Debbie walk over to me, having been at my place nearly every day to help me
out, because of the episode I had after Abigail got admitted to the psych unit.

After we had had
sex in the hospital room, Abbi had gone crazy, completely losing the plot. She
was crying and screaming for help, clawing violently at my arms, chest and
face, telling me to stop laughing at her. Her paranoia and addiction was out of
control. I had come home after spending five hours trying to calm her down,
before eventually getting her a place in a rehab centre.

I had come home
that night and taken a big hit of cocaine, too big. I was a fucking idiot. I
was home alone with Melissa; nobody else was here to keep an eye on her. I had
put her to bed, and then persisted to wade my way through two grams of blow.
Antonio had come in the next morning to me past out in my own vomit. Melissa
had been screaming in her cot upstairs, having probably woken up an hour
before, possibly earlier. He had beaten the shit out of me, busted my lip and
split my eyebrow, luckily not breaking anything, although I did deserve it,
heck I deserved to have my child taken away from me.

From that point
on, I had vowed to never touch it again, and I haven’t, mainly because my annoying
best friend has been on my case, practically living here since Abbi was
committed.

Antonio slaps my
shoulder, smiling proudly at his niece. Who needs blood these days, these guys
and Abbi are the closest and best thing I have to a family, and they were
bloody good at being one.

My own family,
those made from blood, had done nothing but deceive me, ruin me, break me into
tiny shattered pieces and then shit me out onto the pavement with nothing but
the clothes on my back.

“Hey, man, it’s
good to have her back.” He stands beside me, watching the interaction between
Abbi and Melissa. Debbie reaches up and kisses me on the cheek, gently stroking
my arm affectionately.

Debbie is an
amazing woman; I have never known anyone stronger, except perhaps my own girl.
She has, like Abigail, suffered through a childhood of horrific abuse, her own
father having sexually abused her and her sister. She had told her mother, who
persisted to say she was lying and therefore would do nothing about it. She is
now the fiercest girl I know, always standing up for herself, even to the beast
of Antonio. I am so happy Ant has found her; she is a brilliant addition to our
ever-expanding family, her and her three kids.

“She looks good,
babe.” Debbie tells me, looking back and forth between us.

“She is good.” I
relax into myself, sighing at the site of her. She is beyond beautiful, even
more so holding Melissa. It had broken my goddamn heart to hear my beautiful
daughter crying and pining for her mother, this past month. It was my life’s
mission to get her back here, healthy and back to her old self. We are so good
together, fitting so naturally and perfect.

I know now, in
my heart, my stomach, my mind, everywhere in fact, that we made it this far. We
are going to make it. I will knock every obstacle in our way, down to the
ground, if they so much as put a foot in front of our journey.

There is no
feeling in this world quite like holding my precious little girl in my arms.
God, I have missed her so much, every little thing about her. Even when she
cries, screaming at the top of her lungs, nothing soothing her, I still miss
her. I hold her to my chest, clinging to her as though I will never see her
again. Her little head presses securely to my chest, my lips on top of her mop
of hair, little blonde curls becoming sodden from my falling tears.

I watch through
my lashes at Leighton and our friends, as they talk, clearly about my mental
stability. Yes, I have in fact, had a mother fucking huge breakdown. After
Leighton and I had made love that day, in the tiny metal framed, hospital bed,
rekindling and reforming our relationship, I had proceeded to tell him about
the past months of my life until that day. I told him how bad things had
gotten, how every bad thing that has ever happened to me somehow weaselled its
way back into my life all at once, the overload of my guilt, shame and total
disgust at my used and abused body, causing a rush of memories I really didn’t
want to remember.

For the first
eight nights following that day, I woke in fits of screaming, the feeling of my
father’s hands across my mouth, sealing it tight as he thrust inside of my tiny
body. I can remember the excruciating feeling, the smell on his breath and
venomous look in his eyes. I can see how much he hates me. I can hear his
grunts and Melissa’s screams as they tear from her throat.

The next week
following that, I had reoccurring nightmares, every time I close my eyes.
Phillip Blackman in my home, tying me to a chair, slicing and dicing my skin, a
horrible image of his blood soaked hands removing my child from within my
stomach. I awake sweating, crying and begging him to stop.

By this point,
they had already committed me, and deep down inside the empty shell I was, I
knew it was the best thing Leighton could have ever done for me. I hated him at
the time, loathed him for refusing me my child and I wanted to hurt him
physically when he had near dragged me into my temporary home at the Psych
unit.

My withdrawal
from the tranquilisers my body had come to need like the air was horrific,
absolutely degrading, vile, inhuman and disturbing to put it quite honest. My
body ached like a motherfucker, my head spinning and throbbing like  someone
was banging it against a wall, all at once. My limbs felt detached from me,
numb the majority of the time. My stomach constricted and relaxed over and
over, resulting in horrendous bouts of diarrhoea and sickness, then the next
minute severe stomach pain, similar to labour. In fact, I would take labour
over that feeling any day. At least at the end of it, I was gifted my beautiful
daughter. I suppose in a way, my withdrawal was gifting me the same thing, the
chance for a new start, a chance to make up for the hurt and pain I seem to
take everywhere with me.

I gently shake
my head, desperately trying to remember what the therapist had told me. “Do not
dwell on the past, Abigail, it cannot be changed. You have chosen this path,
but you have the option to bend it to your will. Focus on the future, on what
is in front of you, and then the rest will fall to insignificance.”

My ears and eyes
tune into the laughs and smiling around me, even Melissa, all of three months
old is smiling and attempting pathetic adorable giggles. I am thankful to God
every day that Leighton has given me another chance to redeem myself. I will
make it right again. He has told me repeatedly, he is over what has happened,
that he is more focused on his family now, and living life the way we should.
He reassures me there is no threat anymore and we are now able to live as a
family, risk free.

I walk over to
my friends and soul mate, Melissa now cradled in my arms, drifting off.
Leighton wraps one of his arms around my waist, pulling me to his side. My head
instinctively falls into his shoulder, comforted by the firmness of his muscle
and the musky scent that lingers there. “Hey, Baby, you really missed her,
huh?” Leighton asks me as he kisses my forehead and looks down at our little
girl.

“I really did,
so much.” I kiss her soft curls once again and then worm my way into the
conversation filtering around me.

I don't miss the
arousal infused glares Antonio is throwing my way, his dark eyes fucking me.
They travel the length of my body, up and down repeatedly, his tongue
occasionally wetting his dry lips. His hand is in front of his groin concealing
the rock hard erection I know he is sporting.  The slight clearing of his
throat, ever so often has my knickers wet instantly. I love that I drive him as
crazy as he drives me. It had been months since our little foursome, months
since Leighton agreed to let me fuck, Antonio, and months that the orgasm with
his name on has been trying to claw its way out. Sure Leighton is a good fuck,
scrap that he is phenomenal. The dominant thing is a total turn on for me and I
am looking forward to venturing into this a little more with him, but Antonio,
dear god the man is Adonis. A giant of a human, with huge muscles, a dick that
even thinking of it has me wanting to mount him and ride it deep and hard.

“Leighton, she
is doing it again.” Antonio alerts everyone, his deep erotic voice plaguing my
entire being with shivers, causing a great wetness to pool in my pussy, more
than before. I am practically gushing for the man.

Leighton looks
to me, his eyes staring into my own. It will be evident there, that my arousal
is through the roof. His lips lift in a delicious smirk, the hand he has around
my waist slips down a little rests against my backside, clasping the rounded
cheek. A single, long finger rubs between my cheeks, the tip brushing gently
and ever so slightly, against my wet pussy.

I let out a
groan, loud enough for the three of them to hear. I haven’t had any sexual
contact, except for kissing, for a month now and my vagina felt as though it
may have re-flowered itself, I’m sure I am as tight as a nun.

“God, you are
hot and wet, Abigail. Is it because you are perving over Antonio again?” I
ignore him, my eyes once again finding the man in question just at the mention
of his name.

He removes his
gliding fingers and squeezes my arse cheek, hard, a biting pain rushing through
me causing me to yelp. “I said, are you looking at Antonio again, Abigail?”

“Ye...Yes, I
was, Leighton.” I look to the floor; the pink of my cheeks is most definitely
spreading across the entire surface of my body as I feel like a scorned child,
his tone somewhat scary.

He lifts his
hand a little, smacking my right cheek slightly. “Did I give you permission to
eye fuck my best friend, Abigail? Did you ask if you could, in fact, gawp at
him like a zoo animal?”

Is he being
serious, I have no idea for sure, I'm not used to this extremity in regard to
his dominance and therefore have no clue how to react. Since his declaration, I
have thought long and hard about what he wants from me, I know I will do it,
there is no doubt about it, I will do anything to make him happy, but that
isn’t to say the thought doesn’t scare the shit out of me.

“No, Leighton,
you didn’t say I could. I'm sorry I didn’t ask you.” I remember he had said I could
be with Antonio, but only at his say so. So I guess, eye raping the man, has
the same rules? Fuck if I know.

“Fuck, man, she
is a bloody natural.” I hear Antonio tell Leighton, my eyes still fixated to
the floor, almost ashamed at myself for not thinking before I let my stupid
horny brain take over my rational thoughts.

Leighton moves
his hand back to my waist and pulls me to him, his lips reaching my hair and
placing feathered kisses to the crown. I look up to him when his soft lips
move, his smile is intoxicating, causing my own to spread across my face. I
know now, that he is only mucking around, he isn’t actually upset with my
perverted mind.

“She’ll be
perfect in no time at all. I have a lot of faith in her; I should have seen it
in her to start with.” I smile to him, the expressions of his pride and faith
in me, warm my insides up, melting my fluttering stomach.

My sleeping baby
stirs in my arms a little, as I readjust here to stop the numb feeling in my
shoulder. “Do you want me to put her to bed sweetie?” Debbie asks me, her face
just as beautiful as it always has been. She has a radiant glow to her, almost
heavenly.

“I’ll come with
you babe, I want to change her into her sleep clothes and settle her down.” I
lean up into Leighton’s hold, kissing his lips lightly. “I’ll be down soon,
baby.”

“Take your time,
darling. I'm not going anywhere.” I walk through the lounge, Debbie in tow.

I place Melissa
on her changing table, now getting too small for her, and remove her day
clothes. The cute little jeans and knitted jumper she is wearing, discarded
into the dirty-clothes basket and her stinky nappy changed for a fresh clean
one. I lean down and place kisses upon her bare tummy, the gorgeous baby smell
infiltrating my nostrils. God, I have missed this, being a mum.

“She has been
such a good girl, Abbi. But she has missed you, a lot.” Debbie is standing
beside me as I slip Melissa’s arm through her onesie, buttoning up the little
poppers on the front.

“I missed her to
too, I felt incomplete without her, but I know I needed to get better before I
was her mum again. She didn’t need a part of me, she needed all of me.” She is
sound asleep by the time I reach her cot, lying her down amongst the blanket
and wrapping it around her to keep her warm.

“It’s good to
have you back, sweetie, it’s not been the same around here without you.
Leighton has definitely not been the same. Seeing him today, with the smile on
his face as he watched you with Melissa, it was so heart-warming. That man
loves you and damn lot, Abigail.” She hugs me from the side, kissing my cheek.

“I know, and I
love him infinitely.” I kiss my fingers and then place them upon my baby’s
head, “Cool, let’s leave her to sleep. I need me something to eat, and I don't
mean food. Fuck it’s been far too long.” I sigh and try to control the hunger
inside of me.

“You’re definitely
back to your old self, you sex crazed mamma. I'm sure Leighton’s just as hungry
sweetie.” God, I hope so, because I plan to ruin him soon.

We walk the
length of the corridor and the stairs. Arriving back in the lounge, both men
seated on opposite sofas, gleaming hungrily at one another. I stand and admire
the two together. Debbie and I are two of the luckiest girls alive; these men are
heavenly, sexy, rough and raw to the bone.

“Hey sexy lady,”
Leighton taps his lap to signal for me, I stride towards him and practically
jump into the space, “she asleep?” he asks me, sipping what I can only assume
is scotch.

“Yup, sound
asleep.” I nuzzle into his neck, my lips finding their own way and beginning to
kiss from behind his ear to the dip of his throat. I'm not wasting anytime
kicking things off, I don't need to catch up on anything just yet, I just want
to calm this need inside of me.

“Abigail,” he
warns me as I start slowly unbuttoning each little disc one at a time, my lips
kissing the appearing skin as I go. I slide across his lap and straddle him for
better access. “Abbi.” He warns me again, but my pussy is far too hungry to
listen to him, it needs feeding.   

I slide
completely from his lap to kneel on the floor in front of him. His shirt is
completely undone, spread apart so his glorious body is on show. His chest
covered in beautiful blank ink, his dark nipples puckered in the fresh air, his
abs ripped and begging for my tongue. I obey their command and lean forward,
swiping up the valley between his six-pack, his skin is slightly salty, mixed
with a spice. The taste causes a surge of arousal to ripple into my stomach.

I kiss to his waistband,
licking the length of his stomach above the band. Leighton hisses, drawing a
sharp breath between his teeth. His dick is already as hard as iron, tenting
the constricting denim. “Abbi,” this time it is more of pleading than a
warning.

I look up to him
through my long lashes, my fingers expertly unbuttoning his jeans as I continue
to kiss and torment his burning skin. I speak to him through my eyes, begging
him to fuck my mouth and pussy good and hard.

His teeth bite
feverishly into his bottom lip, the slightest moans escaping. I can see him
trying his hardest to stop himself from grabbing my hair and thrusting himself
to the back of my throat. Not that I would have complained, hell I’d beg for it
if that’s what would get me a sore cunt by bedtime.

I slowly pull
down his zipper, the teeth clinking out of place one at a time, tantalisingly
slow. I can see his clenched jaw as he keeps himself tame. “What’s the matter
baby, you want me to stop?” I tease him as I reach inside the denim casing and
pull his erection free. It is heavy and hot in my palm as I encircle it with my
small dainty hand, that doesn’t completely surround his girth.

“Fuck.” Leighton
clenches his fists, almost sitting on them to stop them from coming for me.

“Is it too much
for you baby? Should I stop doing this?” I drag my fist up and down his length,
the foreskin gliding with me, revealing his glistening head. The pre-come
summons me and I lean forward and lick the little pool away.