My hands wander around her body, caressing and worshipping every inch. When I slide my fingers beyond her belly to rub her clit, sparks ignite. She writhes and quakes as she comes hard, chanting my name.
I release her mouth and rest my forehead against hers, gazing into her big blue eyes. She smiles at me, cupping my cheeks with her tiny hands.
“My warrior shield,” she says with love.
That’s all it takes for me to pick up my pace, powering into her.
“Yes,” she moans as her eyes roll back in her head.
I keep mine trained on her. I need to watch her fall apart and come back to me. I need to see it as much as I need my next breath. Alannah gives it to me. Her pussy clenches around my cock, and she shouts in ecstasy.
Four more times I watch. Every time filling me with more relief than the last.
The flush in her cheeks shows me her blood is warm and circulating.
The panting breaths show me her lungs are working.
The heat between our sweatless bodies shows me she feels my touch.
The chanting of my name shows me her mind is functioning.
The love pouring from her electric blues shows me the match to my soul is alive and well.
I come harder and longer than I ever have, roaring so loudly that my throat burns. And with my exhausted woman trailing her hands up and down my back, kissing my face with chaste pecks, I start all over again.
I worship her until the sun comes up and then I do it again. I make love to her until my body refuses to obey my commands and falls into a deep, restful sleep. With my woman draped across my body, breathing and alive, my son kicks me.
We made it.
There’s a crisp knock at the door just as Alannah walks out of the bathroom in a thin hotel bathrobe. We don’t have any clothes, but the sight of her in white turns my stomach. I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable with that color again.
I’m about to tell her to forego the robe when the knock comes again, followed by, “Kane!”
I crack the door open, not wanting to give Caelan a free show of my dick swinging.
“You gonna let me in?” he asks with a quirked brow, his hazel blue eyes shimmering with amusement.
“You wanna see my cock?”
“Here,” he grunts, shoving a shopping bag in my direction. “Get dressed and then we gotta talk.”
I nod and shut the door. My social skills have improved but only so much. I’m still tense, worried what’s coming next. I want out of this state, maybe even this country.
Alannah snags the bag from my hand and starts rummaging through it. I can’t help it, I tug the white towel off her hair before yanking open the robe, pushing it off her shoulders.
“Can’t do the white,” I grumble when she looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“That’ll make for a fun wedding dress shopping experience,” she snarks, digging into the bag again.
I don’t respond. I’m stuck. My brain is on repeat…wedding. Wedding.
Alannah shimmies her hips into pale pink cotton panties and then clasps a matching bra. When she notices I’m not moving, she takes a step toward me with concern on her face.
“What’s wrong?”
I shake my head no, but I can’t force any words from my lips.
“Hey,” she soothes, rolling up on her tips toes to wrap her slender arms around my neck. “Talk to me.”
“Wedding,” I grunt.
She tips her head back and laughs a deep belly chuckle. Alannah walks away from me still snickering as she drags a deep sapphire jersey dress over her head. It’s long, dragging the floor as she settles it over her body.
It’s nothing special. A sundress you see tons of women wearing in the summer with thick straps and some elastic shit under the boobs. But against her milky skin, my woman looks elegant.
“It wasn’t a proposal, Kane,” she admonishes me, holding out a pair of black boxer briefs.
I don’t respond as I take the underwear and shove my legs through them.
“I already asked you.” I finally allow my mouth to connect to my brain.
“No, you were tryin’ to get your way,” she responds pointedly.
That’s true. But I think I asked if she wanted a ring the night I first made her mine. Not my finest poetic waxing, but it’s something.
“Do you like squash?” I ask as I pull a new pair of jeans over my hips. Fuck that feels good. The soft cotton black T-shirt is even better.
“Weird question. Yes, I like squash,” she huffs, flopping onto the end of the bed as she begins braiding her damp light blond hair.
“I can’t marry you,” I say quietly, dropping to my knees in front of her as she recoils from my statement. “I don’t exist, Alannah. There’s no birth certificate for Kane Rand. I don’t have a social security number. I’ve never paid taxes. I don’t own anything. I’m a phantom.”
She nods with disappointment in her eyes along with understanding. I pull her hands away from her hair and hold them tightly in mine.
“There’s a field on Sorcha’s land. It’s the only place she could get squash to grow. Somethin’ about the soil or some shit. I used to go out to that field when I was young. There’s a break in the forest and on a few days out of the year, the sun rises in that spot. That’s where I’ll marry you. With my mother watching as she crests the horizon and shines down on us with her warmth.”
Tears spill down her cheeks. I use my thumbs to wipe them away as I continue to speak.
“I don’t know what our life together will look like. You know what I am. How I make money. I crave that, Alannah. Even after everything we’ve been through, I still crave the death. That won’t go away. I need you to know that. And knowing that, you have to trust nothing will ever happen to you and our kids again. I’ll spend my life keeping you safe. I’ll take care of you. I’ll love you. I’ll be the best version of myself with you at my side.”
“But you said you can’t marry me,” she whispers.
“Not on paper. We won’t have a marriage certificate. But you’ll be my wife. You’re mine, Alannah. You’ve been mine since the first time our eyes met. Nothing will ever change that,” I assure her, leaning forward to kiss her lips. “And when I marry you, there’s no way in hell you’ll be wearing white.”
She grins against my mouth.
“Okay.”
We make out like teenagers for a while. It’s passionate and hungry. I’m ready to move things along until Caelan’s meaty fist pounds on our door again.
I growl in frustration, helping Alannah to her feet as I right her dress.
I throw the door open and Caelan strides in with Chann in tow. I give them each a back-slapping hug and nod at the men still standing guard outside before shutting the door.
Caelan pulls Alannah into his chest and breathes her in. We didn’t spend a lot of time together once we got to the hotel yesterday. The bearers were exhausted as was the O’Donnell Clan. Sleep took precedence. But it meant Caelan didn’t get much time with his niece.
He tips his head down and whispers into her ear as she nods against his chest.
“You got Alannah Carey pregnant,” Chann says with pride.
“It’s your fault. That lingerie was too good to resist.”
I offer him a cocky grin before we both chuckle.
“Missed you,” I say when we stop laughing.
His pale blue eyes peek up at me from beneath his messy blond hair, tears fighting not to fall.
“We had a funeral for you,” he says through ragged breath. “Both of you.”
“What?” Alannah gasps, looking into her uncle’s eyes.
Caelan O’Donnell is a beast. He’s not as tall as me or as wide, but he’s a solid ox of a man. He induces fear with a single look. He’s killed men. Tortured souls. He’s the epitome of what a mob boss should be. But right now, running a trembling hand through his neatly kept salt and pepper hair, he simply looks like a hurting uncle.
“Outside
of Kansas City on some weird hippie farm,” Caelan starts, settling Alannah on the end of the bed as he takes a seat in one of the chairs around a small table.
“My mother’s land,” I correct him harshly before striding to my woman.
I sit next to her and pull her small body beneath one arm, my free hand resting on her bump.
“That answers some questions,” Chann says, flopping into the other chair at the table.
“A gas main broke, causing an explosion in an underground bunker. You two were identified by your DNA,” Caelan explains.
“Motherfuckers,” I spit.
“I need to call my mom,” Alannah responds in a panic.
“She doesn’t know we’re here, honey. I didn’t wanna tell her you might be alive. We didn’t know what we were walkin’ into yesterday. She’s hurt enough in the last six months. I couldn’t add to that.”
“Then a phone call might freak her out,” Alannah mumbles.
“You’ll see her soon.”
Alannah nods, and I get down to business.
“How’d you find us?”
“Got a call evening before last from a Jeff Cutler,” Caelan begins. “He told me a very brief, fucked up story. I wanted to hang up on him, but he knew shit about you both. In five minutes, he convinced me you two weren’t dead and that I needed to get my ass on a plane. He thought we’d have a day to plan. Then I got a call at four yesterday morning that all hell had broken loose. We got there as quick as we could.”
“He was a good man,” Alannah says softly.
“Was?” Chann asks.
“He got capped when you all showed up. We had two people in Canyon Nine helping us, Jeff and a researcher. Bethany got plugged first. The two sick fucks running this thing, Deacon and Davina, tried to bait me with Jeff and Bethany. I told them to go ahead and shoot ’em. They did. More blood on my hands,” I finish with a humorless snort.
“Hey,” Caelan barks. “Don’t do that shit.”
Tense silence fills the room as the mob boss puts his foot down. It’s not in a criminal way though. It’s paternal. He thought we were dead. No matter how tough the fucker is, that jacked with him.
“So I’m just gonna ask. Are you an alien?” Chann questions seriously.
I stare him down for a few beats before laughing hard. Alannah joins me as Caelan and Chann watch us without a hint of the humor my woman and I are experiencing.
“I’m not an alien,” I heave out.
“Then what are you? I was there. I saw you get shot and stabbed. Nothin’ fuckin’ happened to you. Then Alannah came back to life, bullet comin’ outta her chest like she’s Wolverine or some shit. What the fuck, Kane?”
“It’s hard to explain,” I huff.
“Try us.”
I hesitate. Knowing could put them in danger. They already know enough for that to be an issue. I won’t sacrifice another person I care about. I can’t.
“Told you this shit already, but I’ll say it again. You’re like a son to me, Kane. I carry whatever burden you do. Give me this shit so I can help you,” Caelan urges me with a rough yet soft voice.
“I’ve been like this as long as I can remember,” I admit quietly as Alannah squeezes my hand on her bump firmly. “Nothin’ can happen to my skin. I’m kinda indestructible.”
“So you can’t be shot or stabbed,” Chann states plainly.
“Not much can happen to me actually. I can’t drown. I can’t burn. My bones don’t break. I don’t get cold or hot.”
“Why?” Chann asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know. They never told us. I’m different from the other bearers. That’s what Canyon Nine called us. They all have one shield. One ability. I have all of ’em.”
The four of us sit in silence. It sounds crazy to talk about this shit. Bearers. Shields. It’s all so fucking weird now that we’re not in Canyon Nine.
“Are you a mutant?” Chann continues trying to figure me out.
“Nope,” I quip. “Pretty bummed when I found that out.”
“Sucks.”
He’s actually disappointed. I snicker at his reaction, and he joins me.
“So you’re like Harry Potter then. I wouldn’t tell anyone that shit. It sounds lame. Just lie and say you’re a mutant,” Chann suggests seriously.
“They do shit to you?” Caelan asks, shutting down the magic conversation.
“Yeah.”
“Alannah?”
“Not much,” she answers sheepishly, not wanting to upset the crime boss.
He studies us for a long time after that. I can see his mind working behind his hazel eyes. Caelan’s a logical man. There are problems, and there are solutions. He works between those points and rarely deviates. That won’t work here.
“What about the baby?”
“What about him?”
“Is he gonna be like you?” Caelan clarifies.
“It seems that way. We’re kinda flyin’ blind here though,” I respond honestly.
“When’re you due?” he asks his niece.
“About eleven weeks. October tenth,” she says through a smile.
“Jeff said those fuckers wiped your memory,” he growls.
“I’m fine now, Uncle Caelan. It was temporary. I remember now. Everything,” she whispers sadly.
“I would’ve come for you. Both of you. I’m fuckin’ pissed at myself for not diggin’ deeper into shit. There’s still a lot to say…a lot to deal with. But we’ve gotta get outta this state and figure out what to do with the rest of these people.”
“Their memories are gonna come back. I’ll take ’em with me until they start to remember who they are. Help if I can,” I say plainly.
“Your loft’s not big enough for all those people. You want me to set somethin’ up for you?” Chann asks.
I nod at my best friend. “Somewhere I can see shit comin’.”
“I’ll keep men with you,” Caelan interjects.
“Appreciate that. All of it, Caelan. They would’ve slaughtered most of us if you didn’t show when you did.”
He lifts his chin at me, telling me he doesn’t feel good. He’s carrying his own guilt about this shit.
“I’m stayin’ with you,” Chann announces.
“Fuck,” I huff before cracking a smirk at him.
“Missed months of fuckin’ with you. Gotta make up for lost time.”
That goofy kid thing he has going on is there, but there’s concern laced within his joke.
“I’ve got a cartel cargo plane waitin’ for us. You think your people are good to go?” Caelan asks.
“Let me talk to ’em first.”
He nods as Chann and he climb to their feet. Hugs and back slaps ensue, until they stride out the door.
“That sucked,” I point out the obvious.
Alannah nods but doesn’t respond as she lays back on the bed.
“They thought we were dead. There’re headstones somewhere with our names on them. That gives me the creeps,” she finishes with a shudder.
“We’ll get ’em taken down once we’re home,” I assure her. “Let’s go round up the bearers and see how they’re doin’.”
“’Kay.”
I pull her to her feet by her hands and then drag her body up mine under her armpits until we’re face to face.
“You gonna marry me?” I ask roughly.
“You gonna ask me?” she retorts.
“I don’t ask questions I already know the answer to.”
“Then why are you askin’?”
“Just wanna hear you say it,” I purr.
“Yes, I’m gonna marry you,” she responds sweetly, kissing my cheek.
“Yeah, you are,” I growl before taking her mouth in a possessive kiss.
She allows it, encourages it. A little too much. So we end up buried in each other for a good hour before we leave the room.
I’m happy.
I feel guilty as fuck about that too.
I’m getting my life and things I never d
reamed possible for a man like me. But I have them. I adore them. I cherish them. And I’ll make it my new mission in life to make certain the bearers each finds their own version of what I have.
They fucking deserve it.
A hunting lodge outside Kansas City is a very apropos location for all of us to take refuge. Pulling up outside the massive log and stone structure eases a bit of my tension. The bearers are a range of emotions from pissed to depressed. I’m not good with that shit. I can’t help them come to terms with the fucked up mess that is their lives. But I can keep them safe until they figure out where their lives will begin again.
“Doc,” I whisper, brushing her hair from her face.
“Hmm,” she groans, cracking an eye open.
“We’re here. You need me to carry you?”
“I can walk,” she responds through a long stretch ending with a yawn.
Her tiny body’s been through too much in the last week. I know my son is fine because he reassures me every time I place a hand on his womb. I know Alannah’s fine because I study her more often than not, checking for any signs of discomfort. I never find any.
The cargo plane transported us overnight. The bearers were quick to want to leave the state. No one argued or pressed for anything other than the assurance we wouldn’t be split up. That wasn’t an issue.
The plane touched down on a secluded landing-strip outside Kansas City about an hour ago. We loaded into SUVs and drove straight here. It’s still dark out, but the lights illuminating the lodge gives a pretty impressive view of our home for the foreseeable future.
I slide out of the back seat as two of Caelan’s men hop out of the front and start making rounds. I know we’re safe. Caelan’s on security overdrive. We all are. I run my hand over the 1911 in the back of my jeans just to remind myself I’m armed.
I help Alannah out of the SUV as Alex, the dragons and the burnt necktie walk up to us. Seeing them in normal clothes is a trip. I don’t want to call them numbers. They have names. They’re people not lab rats.
“Place is massive,” Thirty-seven remarks, pulling his woman under his arm.
“It’ll do,” I say with a hint of snobbery in my voice.
He locks his blue eyes on mine and busts out laughing along with me.
Misunderstood Miracles Page 20