Blind Luck (The Technicians Series Book 3)

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Blind Luck (The Technicians Series Book 3) Page 8

by Olivia Gaines


  Curious, Millicent followed behind him as Brody Johnson took off his shirt and work boots. He opened the door to what she assumed was his closet as he stripped down to his undies and disappeared. She stood in the door, next to Chad, who also watched, wondering where he went, but then she heard the start of the shower and looked down at the boy.

  Chad seemed impressed.

  “Go put your things in your room. I will be there in a few,” she said to him.

  “Okay Mommy,” he replied, dragging the case down the wood floor to the bedroom across the hall. She heard a small squeal, but she would check on her son in a few. First, she needed to check on her husband.

  Millicent caught sight of a toned bare bottom as he opened the shower door and stepped inside. She glanced quickly at the bloody bandage in the trash for the colors of green and yellow. Thankfully she saw none, just dark stains from his blood.

  “Brody, do you want me to shower with you or wait until you’re done?” she asked in a soft voice.

  He cracked the shower door and peered out at her, “This is my bathroom. Yours is on the other side, through your closet.”

  “My closet?”

  Yield pointed at the door for her to leave him in privacy to wash and get ready for bed. He could eat a bite or two, but he mainly wanted to sleep. It would be risky to stay in the water for too long, so he made quick work of washing off the day and rinsing away the suds. Just as he turned off the taps, he heard Millicent’s scream.

  “Yeah, thought she’d like that shit,” he said, smiling.

  “Holy crap!” she yelled out. “This is mine? For me? This...this! Oh my gosh!” she screamed out, touching all the shelving, cubbies, racks, and drawers and plopped down on the cushioned seat she would sit on to put on her shoes. The two pair she had, one on her feet and the dressy pair she’d gotten at Wal-Mart, she put in the cubbies. Later, she would unpack the suitcase but she wanted to see ‘her’ bathroom.

  Millicent screamed again, bringing Chad running to her side. The bathroom wasn’t large, just the right size with a stand-up shower, a soaking tub, an illusion sink and a vanity with mirror. A hairdryer was built into the wall hotel style, and the mirrors had round light bulbs like in the movies.

  “Brody, this is amazing,” she said, coming out of the bathroom to find him sitting on the bed. He looked tired as he tried to wrap the leg in a fresh bandage. “Let me get that for you.”

  Her hands were gentle as she added the salve to his wound that stunk to high heaven and reapplied the bandage. To her son she said, “Chad, please go make Brody a sandwich. See if there is any fruit, put it on the side, and whatever he has the most of to drink in the fridge, bring him one of those.”

  “Yes Ma’am,” Chad said, running to the kitchen.

  “Thanks,” Brody mumbled as she helped him to his feet and into the king-sized bed. Millicent turned back the covers, fluffing up the pillows as he climbed in, the bad leg uncovered. Taking an extra pillow off the bed, she slid it under the knee, to elevate the leg.

  “How does that feel?” she asked him.

  Yield only nodded as he leaned his back against the headboard while a ham sandwich materialized on his lap, with a peeled orange, a handful of chips, and a cold beer. A soft smile formed at the corner of his mouth because it was exactly what he would have fixed for himself. He ruffled the boy’s hair as he told him thanks.

  “Mom, if you want to soak in the tub, I got Mr. Brody,” Chad said. “I’ll keep an eye on him while you take your bath.”

  “You don’t mind, Chad? Brody?” she asked, hoping they wouldn’t.

  Both of their hands waved at her, shooing her off. Hungry, Brody lifted the sandwich and took a bite. It was almost perfect, just a tad of spicy brown mustard, not too much mayo, and a slice of tomato. The boy made the sandwich exactly like he preferred it and for the first time, he felt it. The connection which Gabriel saw between him and the kid.

  Chad, wearing a long sleeve tee and sweat pants, kicked off the worn-out sneakers and climbed up on the far side of the bed. He gently passed the remote he had in hand over to Yield. Pressing down on the microphone button on the remote, Yield spoke into the device.

  “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom,” Yield said, and the television flashed on, and he moved the plate to the center of the bed. Chad took a chip as his eyes focused on the big screen of television and the theme music started. Brody Johnson didn’t see much of the movie as he drifted off the sleep. Small hands tugged on the covers, pulling them up to his chest. He touched the man’s forehead with the back of his small hands, checking for fever, just like his Mamma does to him when he was feeling bad. Content that Mr. Brody wasn’t feverish, the boy relaxed a bit.

  Chad took the plate to the kitchen, making himself a sandwich as well before returning to the bedroom and climbing in beside his new dad. He happily munched on chips and his own meal, sipping on a bottle of water, keeping watch over Brody Johnson as he slept.

  MILLICENT SLIPPED DOWN in the warm water, allowing the pool of liquid to come to a stop right under her nose. She closed her eyes, praying, being thankful and grateful at the same time. They had a home. A safe, secure home where she and Chad could be happy. I think I can be happy.

  Her eyes moved in their sockets, scanning her personal bathroom, coming to a stop on the toilet. The seat could permanently stay down. No longer would she have to check it for splatters of Chad’s lemonade and late-night misses before relieving herself. Brody even had his own bathroom. His space. She made a mental note that the man had his own space and she would endeavor to stay out of it.

  Clean up behind yourselves.

  That shouldn’t be a problem.

  I like a neat house.

  Other thoughts drifted to Brody Johnson. Her eyelids fluttered at the thought of his hot mouth on her neck, the fiery kiss in the kitchen, and how he held her like a man who appreciated the feel of a woman in his arms. Her body tingled in excitement at the thought of when they finally would become man and wife in every sense of the word.

  “Holy shit, I am his wife,” she said, coming out from under the water. Nearly swallowing a mouthful on her way up, she wrapped her arms around her knees. The wedding ceremony, although quick and efficient with that Gabriel guy laughing the whole time, was still tender.

  Brody said his vows, holding her hands in his own, looking her square in the eyes. The kiss, to seal the deal also tender, as his large hands cupped the side of her face, kissing his wife with intention and promises of thing to come. I had to convince him, but I felt like he wanted to do it anyway.

  Chad.

  Chad seems happy, even offering to look after Brody. He’s going to make a great dad to the boy and we are going to make him happy. She’d mentioned the loneliness which got his attention. So much house to live in alone.

  “Holy shit, this is our new home,” she said, suddenly anxious to explore the place. Pulling the plug, the water drained as she toweled off and located a pair of long-sleeved jammies and pants. Since she had time, she put away the items in her suitcase, pushing the old, weathered travel case into a corner of her beautiful closet.

  “I sure look forward to filling you up with pretty clothes,” she said, flipping off the light.

  In the bedroom, Brody slept on the far side of the large bed, the light from the red sign on the television screen illuminating the room while soft snores filled the air.

  “He snores,” she said, collecting the empty beer bottle from the night stand. Millicent took the plate as well as the one Chad had used, padding barefoot down the long hall to the kitchen.

  “This kitchen is amazing,” she said as she ran fingers over the granite countertop of the kitchen island which held the stove. All modern appliances, gadgets in the cabinets, and pots and pans galore.

  “In the morning, I’m making waffles,” she said, locating the laundry room. “I’ll do a load or two in the morning as well.”

  She explored the family room and his office, inhaling the sce
nt of his cologne and loving everything she saw and touched. Her eyelids felt heavy, which ended her exploration of the house, and slowly she made her way down the hall to locate the room Chad had chosen as his own.

  “Holy shit, this is my baby’s bedroom?” It reminded her of a scene set for rich kids who attended an exclusive prep school where the teachers turned into vampires and bit the children. His suitcase wasn’t in the middle of the floor as she’d expected, but in his closet. Pulling it out, she was surprised to find it empty. Millicent checked the dresser and found her son had put his few items of clothing away. The drawers swallowed the meager contents of three pairs of underpants, two pairs of socks, and a couple of tee shirts.

  “Life has been hard for us,” she noted, going across the hall to carry the boy over to his room.

  In the master bedroom, she stood at the foot of the king-sized bed, watching them both sleep. Instead of breaking the picture-perfect moment, Millicent crawled up the center of the bed, bending her knees to slide her legs under the covers and scooted close to Brody. He exhaled and draped his arm over her hip.

  “For this Oh Lord, I give thanks,” she said softly, touching Brody’s hand and lacing her fingers into his.

  Once last check ensured that both her guys had covers, and she leaned her head against the pillow, feeling safe for the first time in many years, and went to sleep.

  HIS LEG WAS ASLEEP. That tingling feeling started when he turned and the blood all started to rush in. The left arm ached a bit as he tried sitting up, but couldn’t because something was holding it down. Instead of reaching for the light, his hands softly patted to feel what was on his arm, only to discover the body of his new wife.

  The boy was in the bed, too.

  “Well, just for tonight,” he said, freeing his arm. Brody double-checked the cover situation making sure everyone was shielded, and he moved closer to Millicent’s body, the warmth seeping into him as he snuggled up, closing his eyes. “Dammit, I’m married and a father.”

  He went back to sleep with a smile on his face.

  BIG MIKE WIPED DOWN the gun. It was his personal piece that he’d taken off a punk kid who probably stole it. He laid the weapon next to his brother, sorry that he’d taken the life, but not sorry to see the man taken out of the brutal, unfriendly world he’d created for himself. This way, as the next of kin for Jebbie, he could file a claim against the woman.

  “She’d better not be fucking that slashed faced bastard,” he said, looking at his watch. It was after 11 pm. If he started driving now, he could be home and in bed before midnight, awaiting the notification call on his brother’s death.

  “I need something to screw,” he said, thinking of his plaything who worked at the Wal-Mart. She’d be home. She would also be his alibi. On his way to the car he called her.

  “Wake up bitch. I’m heading your way. Get ready for me. I need to work out some aggression,” the Sheriff barked into the line.

  He hung up the phone and walked the three blocks to the old, beat up Ford that used to belong to Millicent. He had it repaired but kept it hidden away for when he needed to drive places and not be recognized. Big Mike would also use it to drive to Ohio and find her and the boy. Jebbie was dead because of that bitch and the scar faced fucker. Maybe he should give her a scar too so next time she knew better than to run away from him. It would teach the boy a lesson as well about who was in charge.

  Mike Colton smiled as he walked along. He like the plan. He like it a great deal.

  Chapter Ten – Hmm...Waffles, is that what you call this?

  Achy.

  He was achy from head to toe and all points in between. Especially the point in between since it woke him up and demanded he make it feel better. He was harder than snot stuck the upper lip of an Eskimo and having her lying across him with that long sexy leg slung across his good thigh gave him all sorts of nasty thoughts. She needed to move or he needed to get up. If not, the little man was going to find out how bad of a motherfucker his new daddy was.

  He chuckled at the idea of remembering the first time he accidently walked in on his parents one Saturday morning. His sister had to calm him down because he knew for sure his Daddy was hurting his Mom. Laney Johnson had trouble looking him in the eye for quite some time, but his father gave him ‘the talk.’ In a year or so, he would have to have a similar one with Chad, but right now, decorum was necessary until they were settled in.

  Stretching, the erection bobbed under the covers as he tried to push her leg off, but she only moved it back. Her mouth rested inches below his nipple and he was two seconds from rolling her to her back and welcoming her into his world. Yield lifted his head to see if the boy was still in bed with them, but was unable to see around his new wife.

  “Millicent,” he whispered, pushing her again until she rolled to her back. The pajama top was up showing off the bottom of one pretty, full breast. “Millicent.”

  “Hmmm,” she said, rolling back over, half on top of him, her hand going low to touch the bulge in his boxers.

  “Hey, hey, the boy is in here with us,” he whispered to the top of her head.

  “No, he’s eating cereal and watching a movie in the other room,” she said. “He’s been up for over an hour. Husband, when I’m done with you, I’m making waffles.”

  Her hand slid inside the opening of his shorts, getting a firm grip on the shaft, as her hand went up and down, stopping to allow her thumb to rub across the bulbous head. Yield flinched each time she did it, making her repeat the action several times until he finally gave a small moan of pleasure.

  “Millicent, you might want to stop that before that snake bites you,” he said to his wife, as his hand rubbed her back, gently encouraging her to continue.

  A warm tongue slid out of her mouth, flicking over his exposed nipple before her teeth clamped down, giving a little bite.

  “What if I bite you first,” she said to Brody, flipping back the covers to expose him to the cooler air of the room. Greedily, she yanked down his trousers, exposing the stronger part of him, delighted at what she saw. “Ooh, nice.”

  Her head lowered as her lips covered the instrument. Yield’s eyes were wide as he sat up, looking at the bedroom door, which to his relief was closed. He did the same with his eyes as he laid back on the bed, his hand in her hair, touching the loose curls, enjoying the early morning pleasure. If she continued on the course she was on, in a few moments his first chance at fathering a child would be swallowed whole.

  “Millicent,” he said softly, pulling her mouth away. “A man only has so much resolve.”

  She didn’t respond in words, only sat up in the bed and removed her top, throwing it at him, hitting him in the face. By the time he pulled it off to clear his vision, the woman had maneuvered around the bed and the pants had come off as well. Millicent lay flat on her back, her slightly open knees showing him the new place he would associate with home.

  “I think my resolve just left me,” he said, leaning over the taut body, pressing one knee open.

  “Waffles,” she said. “I am planning to make some waffles for breakfast.”

  “Hmm, waffles,” he said. “Is that what you call this?”

  His hand went to her breast, rubbing a calloused thumb over the nipple as he slid between the toned thighs. He wasn’t sure what he preferred to lick first, but his body was in control and all he wanted, all he needed, all he desired, was this moment. She reached for him, pulling him closer, face to face, as she felt him shift his weight, the pressure of his first attempt at entering her, exciting her senses, making her throb in need.

  “Brody, yes Brody,” she moaned as she urged him to connect their bodies.

  “Patience, wife,” he told her as he allowed the weight of his body to cover hers, planting tender kisses along her jaw and neck, down to her breast. She writhed under him, wanting what he promised, anxious to make it happen, feeling as if she were about to lose more than just her patience.

  The wait didn’t last lo
ng as he adjusted his weight, aimed and pressed into her, connecting their bodies as he sighed loudly at the feel of her under and surrounding him. He filled her with such delight she nearly squealed in the enjoyment of the tender connection. Her legs came up around his waist, her bottom half moving, rocking, trying to make him fit all the way in. To her shame, she couldn’t wait, exploding in orgasmic delight before the man even had a chance to give a good pump.

  It didn’t bother Brody Johnson one bit. He had a lot more to give her and he knew that wouldn’t be the only one she had this morning. The code name given to him by Beauty after his first assignment was Yield. He had none. He would keep going and going until what he was after was found and returned to its rightful owner.

  That was his specialty.

  Millicent was about to find out as well.

  “You are never going to think about making waffles in the same way when I’m done with you,” he told her with pride. Just as he promised, midway through, he shoved his hand in her mouth to silence her cries of pleasure each time he made her scream his name. He had made the threat in Tim’s kitchen and he had no intention of his wife ever believing that he wasn’t a man of his word.

  MILLICENT HUMMED WITH joy as she danced about the kitchen to Christmas music, whipping up batter to make waffles for breakfast. Her husband sat with a cup of coffee at the kitchen table reading the morning paper, looking up every now and then to enjoy the view. Chad, cheerful with a paint set he’d found in the playroom, took his time making even strokes on the numbered canvas, quietly in a world of his own. It was a peaceful scene even with Yield’s leg propped up with an ice pack on his thigh.

  His cell rang, and both she and the boy jumped at the loud music. Yield held up his hand, telling them all was well as he got to his feet to take the call. It was Beauty.

 

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