by Celia Crown
“Fiancé.”
Was it me or Kevin that sputtered and choked?
I try to turn back around and look at him because I’m lost, and he took me completely by surprise. I have no idea where that idea came from, but it doesn’t sound bad, I like that there is a ring to it.
“Fiancé,” Kevin repeats, circling his hand around my wrist and pulling me towards him while Daddy refuses to let go.
Being in the middle of a tug-a-war is not fun, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself as I use this time to come up with something.
“Get out or I’ll call the cops,” Kevin said, raising his voice.
I jerk my attention to him and open my mouth to cease the tension boiling over both men.
“U-um, he is my fiancé!” I blurt out.
Kevin’s eyes drop down to me so fast that I saw eye whites before the brown of his iris. There is this crazed look in his expression that tells me he doesn’t believe me and that I’m joking, and I understand where he is getting that thought from.
It’s insane as it sounds, me having a fiancé is not probable. I would have told him and there is just no way to hide something this big to someone who plays a major role in my life.
The question becomes, how do I dig myself out of this hole?
“We met a year ago,” Daddy explains quite vaguely, “We have been seeing each other; I didn’t want people asking questions, so we kept it a secret.”
I avoid Kevin’s suspicious gaze, he doesn’t trust a word that came out of Daddy’s mouth.
“What’s your name and where do you work?” Kevin interrogates.
“It’s Jax, I work jobs here and there.”
I really want to turn around and tell Daddy to not make the situation worse with his inexplicit and enigmatic answers that don’t tell much about anything.
“Romy?” Kevin inquires, “You want to add to this?”
Not really, I mentally say.
“Go to your room, he and I will have a talk.” Daddy takes control and steers me to the direction of my bedroom; my feet automatically follow his order and march out of the kitchen while I scream in my head that I need to stay behind.
Daddy can’t hurt Kevin, he’s my brother in all literal meanings and I don’t want him to get hurt because he challenged Daddy’s words.
Eavesdropping would guarantee disappointment in Daddy, and I can’t do that again when he still hasn’t forgiven me for leaving the city. Well, he left me first. He didn’t come back for me when the FBI agents were ready to transport Kevin and I to our new home.
For a while, I thought he didn’t want me anymore and I convinced myself that I would wait for him until he comes back because he loves me and he wouldn’t abandon me for whatever reason.
He has to have a good one.
I sit on the bed, swinging my feet nervously as I stick my hands under my thighs to stop their anxious wringing. I count up to one hundred in my head as I stare into the wall, finding it interesting as it helps me keep focused.
Counting down is another story, that is hard. I got to seventy-something before I gave up. It’s the same thing as trying to count the alphabet backward, omitting the intoxicated part for a better comparison.
The door snaps open and my soul tried to escape from the wild gasp I let out.
Daddy’s shoes are no longer on, giving me a sense of how long he would be staying. I bounce on the bed and grin, wrestling my hands from under my thighs as I want to run up to him.
“Sit,” he barks.
I shrink back, eyes wide with confusion as I watch his dark eyes revert back to impassiveness. Stoically studying my face as he stands in front of me, my eyes obediently stay up to his face so I don’t look down and watch the bulge pressing on his zippers.
My cheeks burn as I squirm; I lick my lips with memories of that night flashing temptingly in my head. My walls clench at nothing, the need to be stretched and snugly plugged makes me moan.
“Did you honestly think you can leave me?” he sneers down, pushing my shoulder and I drop back on the bed.
I’m panting when he crawls on top of me.
“Look at you, still the pathetic little princess. Still mine, aren’t you?” he croons, stroking my cheek with his thumb.
I spread my legs and hook them around his thighs as he traces a finger over my pulse, taking his spot around my delicate neck. I gasp, mewling when my lungs burn for air.
“Do not fight me, your roommate might not be breathing by tomorrow,” Daddy advises, and my body stops struggling.
He kisses my cheek, “Did you fuck him? Spread your legs and let him cum in your little cunt?”
“N-no, no.” I shake my head with his restraining grip on me.
Kevin is a brother to me and he doesn’t see me like that, we are friends to the purest level. Platonic love and platonic soulmates, nothing can happen between us. It’s not physically, emotionally, and scientifically possible for me to develop romantic feelings for him.
“Good,” Daddy murmurs, hot breath peppering on my skin. “He’s good as dead if he touched you.”
More reason not to tell him that sometimes we cuddle because Kevin wakes me up from nightmares. They were more of dreams that all somehow relate to Daddy telling me he doesn’t love me and I would cry in my sleep.
Those are true nightmares to me.
He supports his weight on his elbow beside my head, “Come with me and you’ll be unharmed. Fight me and I’ll break your legs and carry you.”
“But, Kevin—” I get interrupted, the uninterested expression on his face is not bothered about Kevin at all.
“It’s going to be just you and me. No one will take you away from me again, I’ll kill them.” he snarls, growling in his throat as he takes my lips in a heated kiss.
“I love you so fucking much, little princess.”
I moan wantonly, unable to reply.
“What do you say?” he scowls, nibbling on my lower lip.
Tugging and flicking his tongue over my swollen flesh, my lips are swelling into a natural red pout.
“I love you.”
“Good girl,” he purrs.
Epilogue
Jax
Two Months Later.
“Why the hell are you still here?” an aggravated sigh rumbles out, I cross my arms over my chest and glared down onto the most annoying man ever known to humanity.
Kevin stares back, deadpan and collected. “I’m not here for you.”
This man has the audacity to come into my home and demand that Romy spend time with him because I have been keeping her for far too long.
The day I found Romy, I demanded her to move out of her home and into mine. I had bought a house in Alaska, my home state where I know the place like the back of my hand. It’s for privacy and safety precautions, I’m still a wanted man on the FBI’s list for kidnapping and bank robberies.
Although those two never connected to one person, it’s going to take some time and serious brainpower to connect them to me. The team kept up their end and disappeared without contacting anyone, our ties are severed, and I have never been freer and at peace than I am with Romy.
The only downside is that Kevin also moved to Alaska with us. I put my foot down on where he can live and it isn’t going to be in my home. A home that I bought with the money I got from the heists that required skills and accuracy, all that risk and adrenaline paid off with this comfortable home.
Kevin rented an apartment down the street and he is the third wheel that no one wants around. Except for Romy as she doesn’t know anything that goes around because she’s too naïve and unaware of her surroundings.
“I know who you are,” Kevin says, standing with his hip pushed to the side.
I have half a mind to dropkick him out the window, but he’s going to rat me out to Romy and she’s going to pout all day.
At this point, it’s going to be worth the upset atmosphere in the house.
“Enlighten me,” I say blankly.
> Kevin frowns, his eyebrows curling towards the center as his forehead form lines. “I saw you on T.V.”
I cock an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue while keeping my other ear open for Romy’s running feet in the bedroom. She’s getting ready for dinner at this one little diner she found when she was exploring the town day by day.
She suggested that all three of us have dinner, to talk about nonsense and basically everything that comes up. Romy wants to spend time together as a family and I have to give it to her when she looked so hopeful as she asked me, I agreed before I could let the proposition sink into my brain.
“You’re that bank robber that stole from Eastern Shore Bank.” Kevin narrows his eyes skeptically at me, tracing the tattoos running down my arms as he analyzes the designs with keen eyes.
“It’s the same tattoos that the police released to the news,” he said, “They enhanced it and it’s your arms.”
I don’t confirm or deny it, letting him stew in his paranoia and skepticism which is good. Nothing can get back to me if I don’t admit to being a criminal, but people can draw conclusions shockingly fast.
Kevin is one of those people.
“I knew you were a bit strange when you said you were Romy’s fiancé.” Kevin scoffs, rolling his eyes at the memories.
“Everything makes sense now,” he says, clenching his jaw. “You and that sadistic bastard that kidnapped Romy are the same person. Her unwillingness to talk about you and yet she isn’t afraid of you tells me that she trusts you, through conditioned responses or she truly does.”
He’s smart, I give him that. He can put together pieces of the puzzle that even trained FBI profilers can’t pinpoint, sticking them in the right place to get the big picture.
“I don’t know how your bank robbery and kidnapping connect, but when you released Romy, Eastern Shore Bank was hit and the cameras inside the banks caught your ink.”
A silence follows, heavy and suffocating as we stare at each other. Not moving to be perceived as a threat to each other, but I’m ready to strangle him if he’s thinking about telling Romy any of this.
She is under the impression that I had to leave for a bit to do some personal business, not robbing a bank worth of millions in bitcoins.
Whatever helps her sleep at night.
“You used her,” Kevin gasps, realization hits him. “You used Romy to distract the police!”
I snap, voice clipped and livid. “Keep your voice down.”
“You criminal,” Kevin hisses, fiery eyes and standing defensively. “She had night terrors because of you and what you did, and you traumatized her for a fucking heist?”
I growl, “She’s fine and I didn’t do anything she didn’t want.”
“Didn’t do anything she didn’t want?” affronted, with Kevin’s mouth agape. “You held her against her will! She had to see a therapist for that and she’s still terrified to talk to me about it! You are an animal; how could you say that you didn’t hurt her when there’s evidence.”
Denying it will only make him more exasperated and I rather have this matter resolved sooner before she comes out.
“You should know that living in your old neighborhood is dangerous, I did it to save her.” I glare at him.
Everything I say to him, he would repeat it back to me as if I had the balls to spew out bullshit to him. They aren’t nonsense when they did happen and they are true.
“You’re more whack than I thought,” he said, “Delusional, a freaking psychopath. I bet Romy doesn’t know this side of you or she would have run away already.”
Romy knows the monster that lurks beneath my skin, the darkness in my heart, and the soul devoid of sympathy. She has experienced pain by my hands, and she’s sure as hell not running to the closest police station to report me.
She likes the pain I inflict on her, she gets off on it.
My dirty little princess, it’s a secret that only I know and I use it against her every night until she is begging for mercy.
“She has Stockholm Syndrome.” Kevin clears his throat, “And you’re making it worse. It’s not good for her to constantly live in fear.”
“Does she look scared to you?” I raise an eyebrow.
“As I have said, Stockholm Syndrome,” he reasons, sighing deeply and fine lines crinkle in the corner of his eyes.
“She doesn’t fear you, and fuck knows why that is.” Kevin taps his forehead with his clenched fist.
“Romy loves me,” I tell him.
He rolls his eyes, “I know that, she tells me that every time I ask her why she’s so protective of you. A part of her is terrified of you, fueling that love for you and she’s not even thinking clearly anymore. Normal people would find this alarming, this so-called relationship. It is ownership from what I can see.”
“You’re saying I’m manipulating her,” I crack a smirk as this is far more entertaining than I assumed.
Kevin thinks he knows what’s going on and doing his best for Romy, and I appreciate his effort as a roommate and brotherly figure. Not many of these gentlemanly traits are left in people around this generation, but he manages to find Romy and keep her as his priority.
Keep her safe until I came along.
It’s my job now.
“Are you not?” he shoots back.
“I have nothing against you, you’re still alive because you’re important to her, but I will drop you if you try to take her away again.”
We haven’t talked about the start of this relocation because it is his fault that I missed out on five months of her life.
I have to say; the FBI did an amazing job at hiding Romy from me. It took some connections, cashing out favors from Mickey who was reluctant to use his computer skills to hack into the Witness Protection program due to his run-in with the federal agents that caught him snooping around to find a celebrity in the database.
One unbearably long day after another, week after weeks of waiting for Mickey to take his sweet-ass time to sift through thousands of information bits in the data mine. He found three women matching the description of Romy and it hadn’t taken long to narrow down the list and I found that she lived with Kevin who became her ‘brother’ to avoid suspicion.
It’s a smart idea to do that because they knew I would be looking for just Romy Quinn. I haven’t thought about the roommate in this and I should have known because during my surveillance days, they were close.
“Only if you can guarantee that she won’t be hurt,” Kevin bargains. “And she stays where I can find her.”
“I’m not promising anything.” I stifle a growl.
I’m surprised that I have this much patience for this man because I would have left if he was anyone else.
When the circumstance arises, we will have to move. The majority of my problems have been the FBI and they just refuse to let anything go, but their persistence makes the game of Cat and Mouse amusing.
“I don’t approve of you,” he said, sniffing with a squint of his eyes. “But, Romy is happy and I have no right to take that from her.”
“Keep your mouth shut and you can continue to see her,” I said, uncrossing my arms to let them hang to my side as I hear the padding of bare feet and heavy breathing come behind me.
I’m the solid wall that blocked his path to Romy.
Small and dainty arms come around my strong waist; her tits push against my back as she giggles in my shirt. Romy hums what she always calls me under her breath, too soft to let Kevin hear what goes on in the privacy of our home.
I don’t care if she finds it embarrassing to call me Daddy in the open, but people here are too closed-minded to accept this kind of behavior and we just settled down, so I want to keep this place until it’s not needed anymore.
“Ready?” I rasp throatily, patting her arms as she slings around to face me.
Tugging on my wrist, she gets on her toes and pouts her plump lips and I oblige by bending my back to meet her lips in a chaste kiss.
“Ready,” she replies back.
Kevin clears his throat obnoxiously, “Excuse me, I’m here too.”
Romy giggles, smiling brightly as she turns to face him. I put a hand on the nap of her neck holding her still, her excitement is strong and it makes her body vibrate.
“I’m ready!” she beams, her hand going behind to search for mine.
I intertwine ours, listening in on their conversation as it flows freely.
“I’m ready too, thanks for asking.” Kevin sarcastically cocks a grin at her.
She scrunches up her nose, it’s an adorable habit she has, and it stays for as long as it wants. I have no plans of changing the way she acts, everything she does is endearing and I can’t ever get mad at her for being herself.
“Go, go!” she laughs, yanking me with her.
Her shorter legs shouldn’t be taking the lead for someone who is more than half her size, but she seems very happy to notice my smaller strides behind her while I close the door behind us.
Kevin walks on her other side while I take the side with the cars, they chat about their day while my eyes instinctively roam the streets. Old habits die hard when I’m on the run all the time, hiding and sneaking around while not drawing attention to myself.
It’s hard when I’m a giant to the people near me; I’m a head taller than the average citizens. My body is wide, packed with muscles and lean with shapely cuts that enhance my agility.
“John?” a woman’s voice gasps.
We look over to the side and see a woman waving her hand to greet Kevin. I feel Romy’s eyes glance up at me in question while I’m also confused myself. I made it an assignment to learn about Kevin after finding Romy in her new identity, but I never came across this woman.
“Delphine?”
The name doesn’t ring a bell.
Nothing associates Kevin’s fake name of John Carlson with this woman.
Kevin must have met her when he was under the Witness Protection program.
“Melissa,” Kevin says as he glances over his shoulder, “This is Delphine, I used to work with her.”
Romy seems to understand the situation and nods along, but I can see the guidance that she needs when she looks at the woman and at Kevin.