“Feel better than I have in months,” Thirty-seven says through that cocky smirk of his. He and the rest of the dragons lift their chins at Alex and me before slipping past J.
“Time to go,” J grumbles. “Was this necessary?”
“Just a little workout. No big deal,” I respond through a shrug.
“This looks like a murder scene.”
“Not even close,” I scoff before I can catch myself.
J pins me with a gaze full of questions as Alex steps between us. “I’ll see you soon.” He bumps my fist and saunters away leisurely. We have a plan, and I can see the tension easing away from his body with every step he takes.
I pick up my discarded sweatshirt and use it to wipe the blood from my face and torso. I’m drench in dragon red along with their salty sweat. It feels better than it should. I crave this. Maybe I’m sick. Maybe I’m a psychopath. Maybe I was raised by some very strange people. Maybe I’m the only person in the world that can free the bearers from their padded prison. I don’t know the answers. The answers don’t matter.
J silently leads me down the hall to where heated murmurs are filtering around the common room. Shock and horror stifle the conversation as the bearers get a look at me and my bloodstained body.
I don’t want to freak them out. They’re pod people now, but I get the sense that this group is filled with goodness. Something I’m not. Canyon Nine has preyed on the innocent well before they came after the precious gifts in my life.
Thirty-nine offers me a sad smile as I pass him by. He looks hurt, and I feel a twinge of guilt. But it’s nothing compared to the relief beating four men gave me. I’m sorry it causes Thirty-nine discomfort, but I’m not sorry I spilled blood today. I’ll never be sorry for that.
“You fucked those men up,” J states almost proudly as we walk toward the elevator.
“I needed to blow off some steam. If there was a heavy bag available, I would’ve used that instead,” I lie.
I needed the skin-to-skin contact. I can’t sweat or bleed so I needed to be drenched in someone else’s. I don’t expect anyone who isn’t a bearer to understand that.
“Feel better?” he quips as we enter the elevator.
“Yeah,” I respond through a sigh.
I feel a shitload better.
“Alannah’s sleeping. She was pretty wiped after the lab. I’ve set up the attendant schedules so that I can be with you two at all times. Once the baby’s here, we’ll have to make some adjustments.”
“Like?”
“Doctor Slone will want to start testing right away, and Alannah will need to recover. I can only be in so many places at once.”
“They’re gonna kill her,” I seethe under my breath, keeping my lips still.
“Not happening. I won’t leave her side. They’ll have to get through me to do anything,” he responds in the same heated, hushed tone.
“You’re not a bearer. They’ll get through you in an instant,” I scoff.
“They aren’t bearers, so I’m on even playin’ ground.”
“Deacon’s a vest,” I admit some of the truth.
“Bullshit.”
“He is. I know he is.”
“How?”
This isn’t the time or the place to get into this conversation. The elevator opens, ending our tense conversation. He goes to ask me again, but I whisper, “Eyes and ears.”
He looks up at the ceiling and then back to me.
“Only eyes here. Alannah’s apartment is fully monitored though.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, pulling up to a stop.
“One hundred percent certain. Tell me what the fuck is goin’ on. You can trust me.”
I’ve found people who announce their trustworthiness are usually fucking liars. But I don’t have a choice. I need help, and my time is quickly running out.
“I remember everything. Deacon came for me at my mother’s house. I watched his men murder her before he chloroformed me in front of Alannah. You wanna know how he got the drop on me?”
I pause; waiting for a response, but all J does is stare at me with horrified grey-green eyes.
“I shot him in the fucking face at pointblank range. I thought he was dead. He’s not so dead now, and he’s had my woman for months. I’m gettin’ outta here with my family and as many bearers as I can take with me. I need your help, J. I’m askin’ you to help me save the only people left in this world that I can call family.”
The last part isn’t true, but it plays on his emotions, so I use it. I’m a manipulative dick.
“I knew somethin’ was different with you,” J finally responds after a few minutes of an intense stare down where I became concerned I’d have to strangle him.
“Other than my good looks?” I snark.
He snorts before getting serious again.
“It’ll take a bit of time to work this out.”
“I don’t have time. Deacon and Doctor Sadist are gonna try to do somethin’ to Alannah. Bethany warned me today in the lab. There’s no more time.”
“Doctor Sadist?” he rolls her nickname around on his tongue for a moment before smiling. “Let’s get you to your woman and I’ll figure some shit out. Don’t leave her side,” he instructs in a parental tone.
“She’s alone now,” I growl, getting an uneasy feeling in my stomach before racing to her door.
J unlocks it with a normal key and we barge in, each scanning the small area for Alannah. I race toward her bedroom as J calls her name almost frantically. She’s not in her room when I get there, and my stomach begins to plummet. I can hear J banging around in the guest room and hallway bathroom, but I’m rooted to the hardwood floor. They took her from me again.
Retching.
I can hear retching in the attached bath. Now my fucking feet move. I throw the door open and find Alannah on all fours emptying her stomach violently. Her entire body is shaking fiercely from head to toe, but no sweat or chills cover her skin. I drop to my knees and pull her hair away from her neck, wanting to soothe her, but fearing my touch may make things worse.
“Shit,” J hisses when he finds us. “I’ll get…” He pauses not knowing who we can trust.
“Bethany,” I snarl.
He nods and takes off.
I watch my woman fight to gain control and fail over and over again until there’s nothing left. She collapses against the seat, panting and tremoring. I push a few pieces of her hair away from her puke-splattered face before climbing to my feet in search of a washcloth. I find one beneath the light wood, grey marble-topped vanity. Once it’s wetted, I go about wiping her face and brow.
Alannah’s eyes remain closed as her breathing evens out to a more normal rhythm.
“Hey,” I urge her to look at me.
“Thanks,” she croaks hoarsely.
“What’s wrong? Something you ate?”
She shrugs weakly.
Feet come pounding into the apartment before J and Bethany enter the small bathroom, making it feel even more cramped.
“Move,” Bethany barks at me.
I’m so shocked at her aggressive command that I obey.
Bethany drops to the floor, yanking Alannah’s shirt up before smashing something against her bump. The whoosh of my son’s heart echoes around the tiled room, setting me at ease. Bethany too as she collapses onto her haunches. J joins in our relief, sagging against the doorframe.
“How long ago did you take them?” Bethany asks Alannah as she stops doing whatever the hell she was doing so we could hear my son.
“What time is it?” my woman rasps.
“Almost two,” Bethany answers, looking at her white watch.
“Maybe thirty minutes ago.”
“I told you not to let her take any pills,” Bethany seethes at me over her shoulder. “Do you have any bleeding or cramping, Alannah? Any difference at all?”
“No. Just the vomiting pyrotechnics.”
A small smile crests her lips as she peels her eyes open, land
ing on mine.
“I knew that’s what they were doing,” Bethany grumbles to herself as she climbs to her feet.
“What?” the three of us ask in unison.
I look at J knowing we shouldn’t be talking like this with eyes and ears on us.
“There are some technical difficulties with the monitoring system right now,” J says to me.
“Deacon was synthesizing a few compounds. One of them induces labor. That was the only one I got a good look at before I was sent on some stupid errand. Bastard!”
“Can I take a shower before we get into this?” Alannah requests.
“Come on,” I say, scooping her into my arms.
“We’ll leave you two alone,” J says, holding an arm out for Bethany to pass.
My affection toward Alannah hurts Bethany, so I decide to try to mend the wound I intentionally caused.
“Bethany,” I call out. She stops and spins to face me. “She’s my entire world. She has been since the first day I laid eyes on her a decade ago, and that won’t stop until I take my last breath. I’m sorry for leading you on, but you were my shot at getting my world back.”
My honesty makes her stumble on her feet slightly, falling into J’s waiting arms.
“I’ll keep them safe,” she assures me after wiping a single tear from her cheek.
“Thank you.”
J pulls her away with that, and I start the shower for my woman. She doesn’t need the temperature adjusted, but I do it anyway. I don’t like the idea of her in cold water.
I step into the bathtub-shower combination and hold Alannah to my chest as the water flows over our skin. Alannah tips her head up to look at me and gasps.
“You’re covered in blood,” she shrieks, scrambling away from my embrace.
I right her feet, but keep her body close to mine with my hands around her back. Her tiny hands trail lightly along my jaw, inspecting every inch she passes.
“What happened?” she whispers.
“I beat the shit out of some of my friends,” I answer honestly.
“What’s that?”
“I needed to work off some aggression, so I pounded on four men for an hour.”
I lean into her space and snag the hem of her T-shirt before pulling the heavy wet material over her head. Then I remove her bra. Her tits are massive, straining beneath her milky skin and her nipples are darker than I remember.
I sink to my knees in front of her and press my lips to her belly as I ease her yoga pants and panties down her legs. She threads her fingers through my bloody wet hair as I continue to pepper kisses all over her abdomen. I didn’t know pregnancy was so fucking sexy. But her body like this is turning me on more than it did before.
Who knew that was possible?
I want inside her. I need to be inside her. But covered in barf and blood is not the way it’s going to happen.
I climb to my feet and shuck off my sweatpants to find her eyes on my hard dick…too much temptation. Quickly, I turn Alannah away from me.
My cock lays against her back as I lather my hands with soap and wash every inch of her body. My fingers slip and slide across her delicate skin not stopping to pay close attention to the parts craving my touch.
When I move to washing her light blond hair, Alannah moans long and loud. I chuckle as I massage her scalp. I love taking care of her, worshipping her.
Your soul’s match is where you’ll worship the deepest.
I hear you Sorcha. I hear you.
Once Alannah’s hair is clean and conditioned—something she had to tell me to do—she turns and worships my body with the same detail I showed her.
She pulls my head down so she can reach it, washing my black hair vigorously. As I rinse the suds away, Alannah scrubs my face before lightly tracing my angular bone structure. She moves her fingers to my neck, massaging my tense muscles then along my collarbone to my broad shoulders.
Rivulets of water run down my skin, cascading around her slight frame. This is the most erotic moment of my life, and I’m not having sex.
As my woman lathers my chest before attending to each ab she’s causing to contract, my dick gets painfully hard. I ignore it, preferring to watch Alannah’s touch. Until she traces the V muscle, brushing my cock with her forearm.
I hiss. I don’t want to, but I do.
She looks up at me from beneath her wet lashes and smiles coyly.
“Minx,” I purr.
Alannah continues down my legs, positioning her crimson lips only a breath from the head of my dick. Once she’s done cleaning all of the blood off my front, she places one chaste kiss on the tip of my cock. It jumps. If the thing could detach from my body and run to her pussy, it would.
Then she turns me around and tends to my back. Torturously, she explores the ridges and flats of my sculpted frame. I snort when she washes my ass cheeks, but she doesn’t make a sound, only continuing down my legs to my ankles.
When Alannah stands upright, her belly presses against my sudsy skin as her arms wrap around my waist, and both hands firmly grasp my cock.
“Alannah,” I try to admonish her, but it comes out as a plea, desperate and throaty.
“I’m fine,” she mutters into my back before pressing her sweet lips to my skin as her hands slide up and down my dick.
Control’s gone. Not even a fucking memory of what the hell I’m supposed to be worried about. I spin, gather my woman in my arms and press her to the white tiles. Her arms and legs engulf me as I take her mouth in a heated, passionate kiss.
Now that I know I can’t drown, I ignore the water pouring down our faces. We’re safe in each other’s embrace. I drop my mouth to one tit and pull her entire nipple into my mouth as her head thuds against the wall with a groan crackling from her chest.
I want hours with her body, but I can’t wait. I need to be inside her. I palm my dick and surge up, filling and stretching her to the hilt. I pause. I don’t know if it hurts, but she’s hissing from the contact.
“Okay?” I growl hungrily into her ear.
“I feel you,” she pants.
“Good,” I grunt as I slowly pull out before slamming into her.
I feast on her mouth, neck and tits as I power in. Her first orgasm rips through her as I smother her screams with my tongue. While the bite of her nails in my skin won’t leave a mark, I love that she’s clinging to me.
I continue thrusting while I pull her hands from my shoulders, guiding them above her head as I interlace our fingers. She squeezes them tightly as her next orgasm builds. Her legs support her weight while my tongue matches the movement of my cock.
“Kane,” she whimpers into my mouth and I stop.
With my dick nestled against the womb that carries my son, I peer into the electric blues of the mother of my child. Tears bloom as she repeats, “Kane.”
“Yeah,” I reassure her, leaning my forehead against hers. “Love you, Alannah.”
“I love you too, Kane Rand,” she sobs and I move.
I bury my dick as deeply as I can get it as she arches into me, her belly pressing against my skin. I hold her hands, stare into her eyes and watch her fall apart, crying and chanting my name. Then I fill her to the brim, coming with a caveman roar a Neanderthal would be jealous of.
Panting and heaving, I release her fingers and she clings to my neck, bawling so loudly my heart hears her pain. She remembers. I don’t know how much, but I saw the recognition in her eyes, the hurt boiling beneath her love.
“Don’t leave me,” she pleads.
“Never.”
“Sorcha,” Alannah sobs into my neck as I fasten her fluffy pale blue robe around her.
“Don’t,” I growl, causing her to recoil from me. I tag the back of her head and force her into my arms before continuing. “I can’t go there with you right now, Alannah. The grief is too much. My only goal is to get you and our son the fuck outta here. Once we’re safe, we’ll go through everything. Until then, you’ve gotta keep that shit inside you. Be st
rong, Doc. I need your strength right now.”
“Okay,” she agrees with a nod.
There’s my tiger, strong and powerful.
I lead her out of the bathroom toward the living room where I can hear voices murmuring. When my eyes land on Deacon, I push Alannah behind me. My fists ball tightly, but I catch J’s stance and his slight shaking of his head. He wants me to stand down. Easier said than fucking done.
“How’re you feeling?” Bethany asks Alannah, pulling her to the couch and wrapping her in a protective hold.
“Better,” Alannah says softly, turning her big blue eyes up at Deacon. There’s the O’Donnell Clan princess. She looks serene and calm, but within her gaze is murderous intent. “I guess whatever you gave me didn’t work.”
“I’m sorry you got sick. Bethany says you’re not bleeding or cramping so at least we’re not dealing with the issues we did at the beginning of your pregnancy. I’ll head back to the lab and try to tweak a few things,” he lies and lies and fucking lies.
Alannah stares him down, willing herself not to attack him. Once she’s got her emotions under control, she smiles broadly at him and says, “Thank you for tryin’ to take care of me.”
“I’ll figure out a way. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not.”
The smarmy grin on his stupid face says he took her comment as confidence in his abilities. Dumbass.
“I’ll come back once I have something for you.” He leans down and kisses her forehead before quickly exiting the apartment. I watch him until he disappears and then stare at the door long after he closes it.
“Kane,” Alannah’s voice pulls me back to the room.
I stride to the couch, pick up my woman and plant her in my lap. Bethany scoots away to give us space, but remains next to us as J drops onto the coffee table.
“We’ve got maybe an hour before they fix the cameras,” he informs us.
“Kane Rand,” I introduce myself, leaning forward with my hand extended.
“Jeff Cutler,” he responds, shaking my hand firmly.
Then he and I spend the better part of an hour getting our plan in place. While he and I do that, Bethany teaches Alannah how to cheek the pills Deacon’s going to bring back. My woman’s a quick study, but she continues practicing, trying to perfect her technique.
Misunderstood Miracles Page 14