The Mute and the Menace
Page 18
Settling me down, I already feel his erection trying to escape his pants. Sliding my legs on either side of his, the skirt bunches up around my waist, revealing my black panties.
“Shit, you’re sexy.” He whispers against my neck, his teeth sinking into the skin as he bites down.
I grunt against the pinch of pain. Grinding against his hardness, I try to find the relief I’ve been
in need of for days. I can instantly feel my panties dampen and soak into his jeans.
“Slow down.” He presses his hands into my thighs to stop my movements. When his thumb brushes across my heat, I know he can feel the wetness drench his thumb. “Holy fuck.” He groans. “Needy, aren’t you?”
“Mmm.” I lean in to kiss him again. I don’t know what it is, but pregnancy has my hormones all over the place and I’ve been finding myself horny as ever.
That, and I don’t want to think about what happened today or what Jackson said about me being his. I don’t want to think about anything besides Jackson’s cock inside of me and fucking the emotions out of me.
That’s what I need.
“I need you to help me.” I whisper.
“Help you what?” He pulls my top off, revealing a black bra that no longer fits my growing breasts and my rounded stomach. His eyes slightly widen as he sets his hands on top of it, cupping the roundness with a gentleness I never see from Jackson.
“I need you to help me forget.”
He stops his movements. “No.”
I freeze. Looking up at him, I whisper, “No?”
“No. No more forgetting. That’s not what this is anymore.”
“What is this then?”
“So much more.” He slams his lips against mine, and I grasp onto the back of his neck as he uses his hands to unbuckle his pants and pull himself out. Sliding my panties to the side, I sink down on him and weep into his mouth. He feels so good, filling me and stretching me with just a lick of pain.
“Yes.” He grunts, sinking his teeth into my lower lip.
The windows become foggy as I quicken my pace, and the only sounds are that of my gasping breath and the slick, wet slide of his cock moving in and out of me.
He squeezes my bra cladded breast, pinching my overly sensitive nipple through the fabric. I yelp at the lick of pain. He feels so good as his strong body holds my soft one.
When he does it again, I gasp through the pleasure.
“Please.” I breathe.
“Please, what.” He teases me, moving ever so slowly and drawing out every gasp and moan out of my body at a tortured pace.
“Make me come.” I whine, but he halts my movements with his hands on my waist.
“Tell me, then.” He grunts, flaring his nostrils as he breathes heavily through his nose.
“Tell you what?”
“That I’m not just a cock to make you forget.” He brings his hand forward and presses a thumb against my clit. The movement makes me jolt, fire and lightning clashing through the edges of my vision like a wave of heat.
“What am I then?”
I stop, thinking about what he’s asking. What is he? If he isn’t just a booty call, what is he? Has he ever been a friend?
My hands trail down his shirt covered with splatters of blood, thinking of everything we’ve been through this last six months and how it’s changed me—changed us.
Because he’s a different person, too.
We’re new. And that might be a good thing.
“You’re so much more.” I say, repeating his words from earlier. Validating that, although I’m not sure I’m ready to call him my boyfriend, he is more. He’s so much more, and I’m not sure when that happened or what’s going to come for it.
But right now, I’ll take it.
Something flares in his eyes that makes butterflies flap their big, heavy wings inside my belly. He grabs hold of me as he starts hammering inside of me, making me scream out when my orgasm hits me out of nowhere. Heat flushes through me and I start to sweat. I watch Jackson through hooded eyes as he finds his own release, clenching his eyes shut and the tendons in his neck pulse and stretch tight.
We lay against each other. My heart beats in my ears and his heart beats against my chest. His hands trail up my back. Shivers wrack my body and I giggle up against his neck.
This is different.
There’s a lightness in the heavy air. I’m not sure if it’s our words spoken or being away from The Grove, but he’s here and I’m here, and for a moment, I’m just going to let us be us.
Connected.
Alive.
Happy.
17
Cara
“Ready?” Jackson asks as I step out of my house.
“Nervous is more like it.” I press my hand to my growing belly.
Today is the day.
We’re going to find out if I’m having a boy or a girl. Part of me doesn’t want to know. I’m trying not to get too connected, but every morning I wake up and it feels like this baby gets a little bigger. It fills more of my stomach, and more of my heart every day.
I don’t know how I’ll be able to part with it.
I just keep trying to tell myself to remain strong. That this is the right thing to do and the professor and bakery owner will give it so much more love and a stable upbringing then I will ever be able to give it.
It’s just hard.
“Hey, you okay?” Jackson asks as we hop into Easton’s truck.
Reason number five million why we can’t have a baby. Neither of us have a vehicle—or a license. How would we be able to bring the baby anywhere? Walk?
Yeah fucking right. Not in The Grove.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. What’s the matter?” He keeps Easton’s keys clutched in his palm, not caring in the slightest if we’re late for this appointment.
Things have been different between us. We’re tiptoeing around the conversation, but he’s acting suspiciously like a boyfriend since we got back from California the other week. He doesn’t dare say the word, though.
I think we’re both too scared to jinx it.
I can’t tell him I’m upset about the adoption. He’ll go right into his speech about keeping it, and I’m not putting myself in that situation again.
“I’ve just been having an emotional day.” I smile at him, trying my best to wipe the lie off my face. “We should go, though. I don’t want to be late.”
He stares at me with his eyes narrowed, looking for any kind of lie or hole in my words. When he finds none, he shakes his head and starts the truck, making his way towards the clinic.
I keep thinking about if I want a boy or a girl more, but then internally slap myself when I realize it doesn’t matter. It won’t be my baby to name, or dress, or even love.
It won’t be my baby.
We get to the clinic too fast, and before I know it, we’re checked in and sitting in the waiting room. Jackson doesn’t say anything, just sits there with his hand on my knee and watches me. He knows something is up, but he doesn’t say anything. His facial expressions remain so flat he looks at me like he doesn’t even know me, but the emotion in his eyes is overwhelming.
There’s an electric shock between us lately that’s always turned on to a low simmer, buzzing electricity between us and keeping me on high alert.
This is Jackson, is this even right? Is this really happening?
Then I look down at Jackson’s hand on my knee like it is now, and glance in his eyes, looking at the swirling green and I know, without a doubt, that the electric current between us is happening. And a part of me, deep into my bones and blood vessels and veins, thinks it’s right.
This feels right.
“Cara?” My name gets called from the nurse in the doorway.
This is it. Time to figure out if it’s a boy or girl.
After the nurse checks my weight and vitals, she leaves to get the doctor.
And it’s just us.
“What do you
want it to be?” I blurt out, saying anything to fill the silence.
He looks at me, eyes wide with surprise. “I didn’t think you cared. You know, since you’re giving it up for adoption anyway.” Ouch. Jab. Okay, so he’s not being completely nice, then.
“I care.” I whisper, words barely spoken aloud.
He turns towards me. “Do you? You sure? You haven’t—not once—asked how I’m feeling about this. You being pregnant. Having a baby. Giving it up for adoption. Not one word.”
I think back, certain I had to of said at least something to him. Asked him how he’s doing.
Nothing.
“I care.” I say louder, my eyes watering. “I do, Jackson. I-I don’t know why I didn’t check in with you. I’m sorry, but I do care!”
“Doesn’t seem like it.” He mumbles.
“I’m—”
A knock sounds on the door, and I quickly wipe my eyes and sit back in his seat.
“Hello!” Dr. Bragburn walks in with her portable ultrasound. Her face falls when she sees my red, wet cheeks. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, I’m okay.” I wipe my face and put on a fake smile. “Hormonal.” I chuckle, although it falls flat.
She smiles reassuringly. “I promise it won’t be like this forever. Only a few months away and the baby will be here. You should expect your mood to be up and down, with your hormones being all over the place and having a new baby, but overtime things should bounce back.”
“Great.” My cheeks hurt from the fake smile. More than anything I just want to beg Jackson for forgiveness. I didn’t realize I’ve been such a selfish bitch and only caring about myself.
Seriously, I didn’t ask Jackson how he’s feeling? Not even one time?
“Okay, then. Well, everything is looking good so far. Ready to take a peek and see if we can find the gender?”
“Yes.” I genuine smile covers my face.
“Great! Let’s get you up on the table.”
I give Jackson a regretful look. I want him to be happy with me, but his blank face gives nothing away. I can’t tell whether he’s angry with me, or sad, or happy right now.
Laying back on the table, I lift my shirt to my bra. Dr. Bragburn tucks a towel beneath my shorts and squirts the warm jelly below my belly button. Pressing the doppler into my stomach, I instantly hear the static, followed by a fast heartbeat.
A smile breaks out on my face. There’s no way it can’t when I hear that heartbeat.
“There’s the heartbeat. Nice and strong.” She smiles as she presses some buttons on the computer. “Looks like the baby is turned away from us. Let’s see if we can take some other pictures and maybe it’ll turn by the end.” I watch as Dr. Bragburn takes different pictures. Listens to the waves and measures different parts of the body.
I glance over at Jackson and see him watching the computer with rapt attention, but otherwise gives nothing away.
“Okay. There we go, baby.” She smiles bright and gives us a look. “Do you want to know?”
“Yes.” I nod my head eagerly. Reaching my hand towards Jackson, he stares at it a moment before leaning forward and grabbing onto it.
“You, Cara, are having…a boy!” She takes another picture, but I can barely see the screen. My eyes have filled with tears and they spill over onto my cheeks in heavy drops. I feel a finger swipe against my cheek and look over at Jackson.
“We’re having a boy.” He murmurs in my ear.
“We’re having a boy.” I whisper.
He leans down, giving me a peck on the lips. The first one since the night in the car in California. He’s quick to move away and sit back down, but there’s no hiding the delight on his face that we’re having a boy.
“Congratulations, you two! Do you have any names picked out?” The doctor, ever oblivious, wipes the jelly off my stomach with the towel as some pictures print.
The vibe in the room goes from elated to stifling. The doctor notices this and gives me a confused look. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, I thought you knew. I’m… um… I’m actually giving the baby up for adoption.”
Her eyes go wide before glancing away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. Is it in your chart?” She wheels her chair over to the computer and starts clicking around in my chart.
“I… I don’t know.” I sit up, suddenly uncomfortable on how cold the room has become. It’s all coming from Jackson’s side of the room.
“Okay, it says here you were still deciding. I’m sorry, you guys must have chosen adoption?”
Jackson clears his throat, looking down at his phone. His grip around the screen is so tight his fingers have turned white.
He is not happy.
“Yes, we have.” I fold my hands in my lap and look down at them in shame.
Why? Why shame? I shouldn’t be ashamed at all that I’m choosing adoption. I should be proud of myself for doing the right thing.
So why the fuck does it feel so wrong?
“We have?” The words roll out of Jackson lazily. His tone makes my shoulders tense up. Angry Jackson is scary. Unnaturally relaxed Jackson is absolutely terrifying.
“I picked them out before we left for California. I meet with them next week.” I whisper to him. Shit, I should have told him this earlier. I glance at the doctor and see her worried gaze bouncing between the two of us.
“Uh huh.” He runs his hand across his jaw.
He avoids my gaze and the doctors, and I know without a doubt that he’s fuming. Pissed as hell.
Raging.
The doctor clears her throat. “Okay, you’re one step ahead of me.” She rips off the baby pictures and hands them to me. “Please feel free to call me if you need anything, otherwise I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
I give her a nod and silently, we walk out of the clinic and into the truck. Easton’s truck roars to life and Jackson peels out of the parking lot and speeds home. The anger radiating off Jackson is nerve wrecking.
“Say something.” I plead, tears filling my eyes all over again.
He says nothing. Keeping his eyes on the road, he continues to speed home as his wrists strangle the steering wheel. He squeezes the life out of it. Is that supposed to be my neck? Does he wish that he could be choking the hell out of me?
I don’t think I’d blame him.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not asking about how you’re feeling about all of this. I guess I didn’t even realize that—”
“That what! That I’d have feelings?” He pounds on his chest. “No one thinks this spineless mute has feelings, right? People think I’m fucked up in the head or retarded or something. No one even assumes that I might have feelings. I mean, why would they?” He scoffs, making a sharp turn and I have to grab hold of the dashboard in front of me.
“No! I know you have feelings. I just… I’ve been so wrapped up in my own head, I guess I didn’t think about anything else.” I wipe a falling tear. “It was bitchy of me. I’m sorry, Jax.”
His face is red—nearly purple—in anger. “Then you go and pick out the parents who will be raising my kid. Without even confronting me about it! And schedule a time to meet with them! Without me! What, were you planning to go there all by yourself, without even inviting me?”
“No! I was going to talk to you about it.” I cry.
“When? When were you going to tell me?” He barks at me.
I sputter and he laughs in my face.
“Exactly. That’s exactly what I thought.” He screeches to a stop in front of my house. Leaning over me, he pops open the door. “Text me the info for that meeting. Now get the fuck out of the truck.”
Panic rushes through me. I don’t want to leave him like this. “Please, Jackson. Can we just talk about this?”
“Get out of the car, Cara.”
“Jax—”
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE CAR!” He booms, scaring the ever-living hell out of me. I jump out of the car and run into my house, slamming the door shut behind
me.
Running into my room, I throw my purse against the wall and fall onto my bed. I bawl, my throat feeling raw from the horrible screams that come out of my mouth.
I never wanted any of this.
I never wanted this baby. I never wanted to feel anything for Jackson. I never wanted to put this baby up for adoption. I never wanted to keep anything from Jackson.
But it all happened. Shit is going to keep happening. Again, and again, and again.
I guess I spoke too soon when I said Jackson and I were doing well.
My life is a fucking book of unfortunate events. It seems that without even speaking out loud,
I jinxed it.
18
Cara
Six Months Pregnant
This is so awkward.
It’s been a week since the doctor appointment meltdown with Jackson. A week since he’s spoken to me. I texted him that night and told him the details for the adoption meeting. He never responded, and I sent a couple messages to him since then to confirm he received them.
Still not response.
I was about to ask Rose for a ride today when Jackson showed up in Easton’s truck.
Nervously, I hopped in as we drove a few towns over to the nice suburb of Autumn Ridge. I didn’t try to talk to Jackson, and he never tried speaking with me.
But now we’re parked in the Simmons’ driveway, and I’m not sure how we’re supposed to go in there without saying anything to each other first.
“Jackson…” I turn to him and see him already staring at me. “I don’t want to fight. I don’t want this to be a bad thing.”
“How is giving my baby up for adoption a good thing?”
I throw my hands up in the air. “It’s not, but I need you right now. This is already hard, why make it harder?”
He sits and stares at me, then says, “Okay.”
“Okay? What does that mean, okay.”
He looks out the window for a moment before glancing back over to me. “Okay means that I won’t try to make this anymore difficult for you. I won’t cause any problems for you, or this family.”