by Nicole Snow
“No. The shit I laid on you was unforgivable. What I said, what I feared, thinking you've pried into my heart with a dagger in the back...that wasn't Victor, or Gannon, or even a simple misunderstanding under ugly fucking circumstances. Sunflower, look at me.”
I do. His eyes are so bright, catching the mid-day sun seeping in through the open blinds. They're clearer, vaster, more beautiful than the pristine Arizona sky behind the glass.
“Real talk: it was never their scheme. That was just a catalyst. I got nasty because I was scared.” His confession doesn't come easy. His grip tightens on my hand, and he brings it to his lips, giving my skin the world's slowest kiss. There's no stopping those tears now. “I couldn't believe we were real. All this time, letting you in over the crazy weeks since this thing started, and it still wasn't good enough. Thought I was destined to be alone, and maybe it'd be better that way, too. Didn't know I still had it in me to love, and love like we did the best summer I ever lived. I was sure we'd lost that years ago, after that night on Camelback, when life got dark, death marching me through the worst shit a man can live..”
“Knox, you're too hard on yourself. It's okay. We can go on. Move past it and –“
“Sunflower, I love your lips moving more than the sunrise itself, but I'm not done.” He kisses me again, priming every nerve.
I swear to almighty God it's his energy in my veins, his pulse in my body, his soul in my eyes when I wipe the tears rolling down my cheeks, shift Lizzie against my shoulder, and lean in for the next part. “Tell me,” I whisper, our faces less than a foot apart.
“That bullet in my guts changed everything. I'm not afraid anymore. Rescuing my little girl reminded me we're not saved unless I let go, and start believing in us. Not just when you're up against me, sweet as honey, prettier and sexier than any woman I'll see in the next ten lifetimes. Not when you're wearing that ring, or when I've got my fingers in your hair, bringing you in for a kiss I never want to end.
“Sunflower, I've learned to believe. Convinced myself we're alive in every breath I take. Whenever you're stuck in this brain, which is pretty much a constant, I see a reason to make my lungs work, and enjoy it. I see that dorky half-grown kid I started to love before she was a woman I couldn't resist. I see the stars we'll always share, bright as they were that night on Camelback, when this insanity started without us even knowing. Facing losing you was worse than death, Kendra.”
Worse? How much more can a human heart possibly take?
I don't know, but I keep listening, resting my forehead on his. He grabs my wrist, pulls me lower, pushes his lips as close to my ear as he can get. “Worse because I know, just fucking know, that there's no clear line where the us begins. Not anymore. Maybe not ever. I think you know that, too, darling. And if I'm wrong, and you don't know? Too bad. I want you to be my wife. I want to spend every day knowing you're as much a part of my life as that angel you're holding, and you always will be. You're the only one who ever could be her ma, and the only one I'll ever marry with a vow worth more than any ring.”
There are no words. I think he's stolen mine. I'm hollowed out, hanging on to him so hard my hand shakes, dripping every echo he said through my soul, as surely as the rivulets steaming down my cheeks keep coming.
He takes his free hand, lifts it up, and brushes the streams over my ear, until he's cleared them. “Did I ever say stop looking at me, Sunflower?”
“No, but I'm done,” I say weakly, listening as Lizzie smacks her lips on my shoulder and mumbles in her sleep. “I can't look at you anymore. Kiss me, Knox, before she wakes up.”
And he does.
And I kiss back.
And I remember why I've stuck with him through our agony like never, ever before.
Three Weeks Later
“It's beautiful, honey.” Mom holds my hand lightly, turning it over to see the ring. The diamonds catch the morning light, scattering it back across Scottsdale's breakfast hour. “Honestly, I'd expect nothing less from a jewelry tycoon.”
I smile. “I'd have corrected you a few weeks ago. But it's his company now, completely, we're all better off. I'm grateful.”
That's an understatement. I can't believe sometimes the insanity is really over, or near enough.
Victor Wright goes to trial next week. Gannon won't be far behind him, assuming my old boss doesn't just spend the rest of his days in a high security psych ward.
“Just between us, you're certain about this, yes?” She gives me a sideways glance, sipping her prickly pear infused tea. “It's tremendous work becoming a wife. Double when it involves a little girl.”
“I've never been more sure about anything, mom. You've met him, and Lizzie, too. Even dad said he liked them after dinner.”
“He does. Your father's just concerned, dear, the same as me. We want you happy and safe, without walking into something you're not fully prepared –“
“Hold on.” I raise my hand, pushing an invisible barrier between us. “You think I'm not? Really? After we've lived a thriller movie? After I told you how he saved me from that psycho, twice, and I almost lost him? After I caught hell from my best friend, who's finally about to pass her last semester, by the way?” Jamie and me are about to be sisters-in-law, and we're actually happy about it.
Mom sets her tea down. “Kendra, that's wonderful. You two had a wild road to love. There's no denying it. I'm not questioning your love, or your devotion, or your happiness.”
No? I wonder. Then why the second guessing? Jesus, mom, the wedding is less than a month away.
October, the month that seems to stretch on the longest in Arizona, will be the starting line for our eternity. It couldn't be more perfect.
“I don't get it.” I shrug. “What are you asking then?”
“You've found your happiness and the love of your life. Now, I just want to know you'll keep them.”
I open my mouth to fire back, but I close it again with the first unsaid word stuck on my tongue.
There's nothing more infuriating than when your mother is right.
16
Longest Days (Knox)
Two Weeks Later
I can't remember the last time I ever smiled looking at this asshole. It must've been for a Christmas photo years ago, when we sat for his photographer, Lizzie in my arms, fake plastic smiles plastered to our faces.
The smile today is entirely real.
“Mr. Foreman, if you'll please, kindly read this court the jury's verdict.” The Judge watches, perched like a hawk draped in black on his high bench, staring at the skinny man in the jury block who stands, holding a piece of paper.
“Your Honor, we find Victor Philips Wright guilty on all counts: first degree criminal conspiracy to commit murder, first degree conspiracy of fraud, first degree child endangerment, first degree...”
The words melt together the longer I listen. It's euphoria to my ears, and it gives me the strength to keep my eyes locked on the asshole in his rat pit. Remarkably, he stares back the whole time, his jaw clenched, grinding his teeth as it sinks in that, yes, he's going away forever.
Bye-bye, mansion.
Bye-bye, billionaire net worth.
Bye-bye, granddaughter you never gave a single shit about.
Bye-bye, chances to ever fuck with me or my family ever again.
It's quiet. The foreman finishes reading the long list of crimes ensuring he'll stay locked up until the sun goes cold.
I just wish a monster like him could understand. If he knew the pain he'd caused, if he ever regretted the kids who got caught in the crossfire while we chased diamonds through those petty warlord fiefdoms, if he was sorry for scaring Lizzie, or ripping away the woman I loved, or maybe had remorse for stuffing his own daughter away to die anonymously in a dirty fucking hospital far beneath his means...I might not feel this way.
Oh, but I do, and it's the sickest happiness I've ever known. It's the last shot of vengeance tonic I'll savor before I walk out of here and return to a normal life, wh
ere I've learned to smile at things that are a thousand times more healthy.
I hear the judge's gavel slap the wood. Then the cameras clicking as the media hounds leap to their feet, chasing their photo ops. It's the most high profile criminal case the valley is likely to see for the next decade, maybe longer.
I just sit back while the bailiff helps him up with two more guards at his side, leading him to the exit, straight past. When he gets to me, he stops, refusing to move until they prod him.
Look me in the eye, asshole. It's the last time.
“You're as guilty as I am, Carlisle. You'll never be a good man, no matter how many times you sit there high and mighty, trying to convince yourself it's true. Go to hell.”
“Move along,” the bailiff growls, giving him a shove.
Victor twists his head over his shoulder before he moves, eyes locked on me as long as humanly possible, like he's trying to make a curse stick.
There's time to mouth a one sentence reply before he's through the door.
“Here's your guilt, heartless fuck.” I bang on my chest, just once, sending a shock through the organ that's taken the biggest beating, and hasn't quit on me yet. That's the true difference between us. “Already faced mine, and won. Now, I get to watch you rot.”
Much as I tell myself it's over, I can't get the dirty, spellbound look that evil bastard gave me out of my head.
It wasn't a lie. I've faced my own demons and conquered, except for one.
Later, when I'm home, I figure out how. I have dinner like usual with Sunflower and my baby girl. It's steak, asparagus, and the best goddamned garlic potatoes this side of the Superstition mountains tonight. We all do the cooking. I even let Lizzie help do the fun part, mashing up the potatoes.
We talk about the wedding, watch a movie, and put Lizzie down to sleep.
I'm starting to feel human again. Finding it easier to move like I never had hot lead tearing through my guts. The wound is healing nicely, and my sore abs are finally able to keep up with the need in my balls, which hasn't slowed since the day I got out of the hospital, and started sharing a bed with the woman I love.
I'm not the only one who's missed hard, frequent sex, and eager to make up for lost time. Sunflower can't keep her hands off me. She's got her fingers on my chest, nails on my back, teeth on my lips as soon as we're in the hall, my little girl's door shut behind us.
I take her hand and squeeze, reaching for her lips with the other. I lay my finger across her lips. “Easy, darling. Before we fuck ourselves to Neptune and back, there's something I want to show you. Come on.”
Curiosity puts a hold on her lust. She follows me as I lead us downstairs, past my office, into the extra storage room beyond. I haven't touched the box tucked in the corner for weeks.
Before tonight, I only added to it. Never so much as held the paper inside between my fingers for years. I reach in, seeking the letters with a dead man's handwriting.
“What's this?” she whispers, the anticipation building in her fingers on mine.
“These belonged to my old man. Secrets he left behind. Probably dirty ones, judging by how he did them. I've avoided it for too long, but now I want the truth. Hell, I need it,” I growl, staring into her eyes, jade green as unsettled as the blue in mine. “I can't go on not knowing, darling. Everything I'm doing is a reset, wiping the slate clean, so we can start our life the only way we ought to.”
I kiss her hand. She nods, urging me on. My thumb slides over the seal. It's addressed to Judy, the bitch I think is dad's mistress when he went through his mid-life crisis.
“Never showed these to ma. Never opened them. Too busy running from whatever's inside,” I say, slicing the edge with my pocket knife. “She can't know what's in here. Me, on the other hand...it's time. Can't go through life wondering how bad he was, how fucked up I have the potential to be at my core. If he was screwing around behind ma's back, I need to know. I'll do what it takes to avoid his mistakes, even if they're ugly as hell.“
I stop. My eyes scan the very first sentence, and that's all it takes to drive home how wrong I've been.
Judy,
You've got to stop him. We've wasted too much time trying to catch him red-handed. No more chasing the circumstantial.
I can't let him do another diamond run. He's enriching killers for our product.
I've told him over and over, there are better ways. Costlier, but cleaner ways to get our product, and easier ways to make up what we lose on acquisitions in better marketing.
He doesn't listen. And he's about to go behind my back, breaking my veto as full partner.
We can't let him.
Can't leave this mess for my son someday. Can't let him come after me, or my family, because I think he knows we're after him, closing in.
You know how many nights I've sat up, wired, wondering how far he'll go to get his way?
Victor doesn't even look after his own daughter. She's a troubled kid, going down a bad path, and I'm scared as hell she'll never have the heart for this business, should he ever step aside.
Not in her condition. Maybe not ever.
Go the Feds. I'll fax you the secret ledger he keeps for funding his raiders. Hurry, Judy, before it's too late.
“Knox?” Kendra's angelic hand curves, tracing my neck with her fingers.
It's the only thing that keeps the pressure in my skull from causing an explosion. My heart hasn't slammed against my ribs like this since the night Gannon shot me.
“Knox, are you okay? Talk to me!” She squeezes me harder, bringing her lips to my skin.
Without saying anything, I drop the letter and turn, pulling my beacon back to this world into my arms. “I was wrong, Sunflower. So wrong it aches like it fucking should at its best and worse. So wrong for so damn long, and I've never been happier.”
“I was worried,” she whispers, smiling when our lips brush.
“I still am,” I say, sifting fingers through her hair, fisting those gold locks like precious silk. Her eyes question mine, searching a way to help.
We kiss for a good minute. My hands move, gripping her skin, sliding to her ass. They jerk her against me, fitting her hips snug against mine, my cock hard and ready in my trousers.
“Down,” I tell her. “Hit the floor and spread 'em.”
I couldn't be more serious. There's a storm rolling through my bones I barely understand, but I know weathering it involves her tight cunt wringing my balls dry. There's no time to go upstairs.
Fuck the bed tonight, the spa, or even the kitchen counter.
There's a thousand words I have no language to say. I just need it out of me, the same way I need to be inside her this very second.
The low growl in my throat slips out when I push my fingers under her belt. She gasps when I pop the clasp, the zipper, and rip them down her legs. Her lush little ass falls out under me as we go down, her on all fours, wet spot calling every inch of me through her panties.
My pants disappear easy, and so does the last scrap of fabric hiding her sweet pink. Kendra moans, panties twisted around her knees.
“You know what this means? Why I'm having my way here and now?” I push inside her on the last word. Her back arches and a shrill cry spills out of her. Music to my ears.
Her pleasure is the only answer I get. Only one I need. Kissing her neck, right above the shoulders, I thrust harder, bringing her to me, fist tangled in her hair.
“This is it, Sunflower. The only fucking therapy I'll ever need. I should've had you years ago, put our first kid inside you, made you this promise.” She sinks across my cock, swallowing it up to the hilt. My free hand brushes her side, traces her arm, and stops to bundle my fingers in hers. Another gasp. Another moan. Another wicked pull of my lips, becoming a carnal smile. “I will wife you as hard as this fuck, darling. I'll burn like the blood in your finger under my ring. I'll let the past die, knowing our future's as loud and precious as your heart strumming in your chest this second. No more bullshit. No more lie
s. No more secrets. Let's do forever, Sunflower, because that's all we've ever had.”
It's a strange time to have an epiphany when I'm crashing into the woman I love, grunting each time her ass connects with my skin, turning to embers as the fire in my balls reaches to my throat.
But I'd be a fool to ignore it.
I'd be mad to second guess.
I'd be blind, deaf, and dumb all at once to ignore the spark kindling my heart.
Because it's not really a spark. It's a starscape lightning up the blackness inside me, melting it, shining on the path to my forever like never before.
She's whimpering, shaking at the knees, a beautiful mess under me whispering the same mantra.
Yes, yes, yes!
Knox!
Please!
“Come for me already,” I whisper in her ear, slowing my strokes so she can hear me loud and clear, even as I'm pumping her harder. Her divine ass ripples from the power I'm giving every thrust. “Come like you were meant to since we found our stars.”
I don't try to hold back when her fingers pinch mine, her knees quake harder, and the drawn out mewl in her throat becomes steady, shrill ecstasy. I'm her willing prisoner.
I'm growling when I hitch forward again, hold myself deep, and feel my spine ignite. Come floods out in vicious bursts, into my forever, so swift it steals my breath.
Even when I can't breathe, when I'm balls deep and out of my mind, I'm happier than I've ever been because I'm with her.
With her.
Around her.
In her.
Forever, unbelievably, hers.
My biography has a dozen parts. Soldier, father, son, brother, lover, and even fool.
It's man that never sat right with me until the last few weeks flash by like a monsoon.