Pushing my fingers up inside her harder and quicker, I sucked with a little bit more pressure, rounding my tongue around the rim of her clit. Her pussy clamped down like a vice around my fingers, throbbing, dripping juices down my hand. I did the one trick that drove her wild and sucked on her swelling little nub like I was giving her head.
She called my name frantically and tried to push me away from her. When her pussy began to throb around my fingers, I stood upright. Wiping her juices from my chin, I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck, forcing her to stay still and take everything I made her body do. I continued pumping my fingers inside her wet cunt until she crushed them with her vice-like grip. She jerked, trying again to get away from me. She didn’t stand a chance. I finger-fucked her harder, getting exactly what I wanted. It trickled down the crease in her thighs, down her ass and onto the counter as she trembled, her pretty, heart-shaped face contorted, showing how high I made her body climb.
She whispered to me over and over again, begging me stop. I withdrew my hand and made her watch as I licked the juices off my fingers. I moaned at her taste, because it was that good. Fixing my eyes on her, I let her know I wasn’t done.
With her eyes half-closed, she placed her hands on either side of my neck. I pressed my palm against her pussy as it quivered underneath my palm.
“God, Eric,” she moaned. “I can’t.”
“When has that ever fucking stopped me, Nik?” I asked with a wink.
After she came in my mouth as many times as I wanted her to, she could barely move, let alone give me any more shit.
Mission fucking accomplished.
I picked her up and took her down on the bed. Removing my clothes, I held her. Burying my face in hair, the smell of her mellowed me out. I closed my eyes, hoping I wouldn’t have another nightmare. Recently, my subconscious had a way of reminding me I lived a nightmare for half of my life.
I KICKED AT the brick, bored as hell while J.R., and I stood watch to the back entrance of some guy’s house. The sweltering three digit temperature was fucking with my patience.
“Man, it’s gotta be a hundred degrees out here,” J.R. complained.
“Quit your bitching, Howard,” Pete barked at him, turning off the safety on his gun. “I’m going to sweep the front. You fuckers stay back here.”
“You think you could do it?” J.R. asked, watching Pete disappear to the front of the house. “Kill someone?”
I glanced around the area, even though there wasn’t much to look at, just dry grass surrounding a house big enough to suit seven families. “Course I could.”
He looked at the tattoo on his arm. At least twelve series of initials were inked on top of the illustration of tattered angel wings. “I don’t think you could.” He flexed his arm, smiling with pride.
“Yeah,” I started, far from impressed, “your father must be proud.”
“I don’t give a shit about Howard, Sr.,” he snapped at me. “While he’s working like a chump for the public, I’ll be in a mansion with a harem of bitches waiting to do any and everything to me.”
“That’s your benchmark for making it?” Shaking my head, I thought about how small time he was. We would never share the same views. The way he was going about it, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t make it past thirty.
“You’ve been hanging around Charlie too much and picking up on his zen thinking,” he scolded me. “Who the fuck does he have? No one. No kids. No wife. Not even a few bitches on the side. He’s just a waste of a man. Follow Vic.” He pointed his gun to the window of the house where Vic was conducting “business” with a couple of men I’d never met before. “He’ll take you all the places you want to go.” He leaned against the brick and whispered, “Heard about those fuckers you’re living with. If you need help taking care of them—”
“I’m doing it on my own,” I shot him down. “It has to be that way or my plan won’t work.”
J.R. threw his head back and laughed to mock me. “You’re going to screw it up. No way in hell you’re fit to do your whole family in. No matter what they do to—”
A girl screaming inside made us both ready our guns. The back door burst open so fast I didn’t know what happened or who was running out of it. J.R. kicked the door closed and steadied his weapon. I focused on the figure—a little kid who couldn’t have been more than six or seven.
“He’s a kid man,” I reprimanded J.R., who had the kid in his sights and was ready to shoot. “Let him go.”
“Fuck you, you weak pussy. You’re not gonna kill your parents. You’re going to keep taking it up the ass like the bitch you are.” Before I could stop J.R., he fired, hitting the kid with a bullet straight to the back of his head.
I raised my gun, my finger pressing the trigger without hesitation. With a loud pop, my cousin was hit. The bullet pierced clean through one side of his head and out the other. As his body dropped, the butt of a gun was shoved dead to the back of my skull before I could react. Shocked by what I did without thinking, I almost dropped the gun. On the exterior, I kept calm and put my hands in the air.
“Explain,” Pete said, keeping the gun to my head and rounding my position. Pete looked unassuming, even though he was training early to become cock diesel. His blond hair and blue eyes—and it was said, good-looking—made him popular with the girls and underestimated by the guys, that was, until he was pissed—like right now.
“I found Victor’s rat,” I lied. “He confessed everything to me.”
“And the kid?” Pete asked. “Did you do that?”
“Nah.” I tried to sound casual, but this was the first time I killed someone and it felt worse being my blood. “J.R. did. My aim is still shit. It was easy to shoot him at close range.”
“We don’t kill kids.” Pete dropped his gun from pressing against my temple. “You were right to take him out. Lucky for you, you were right about J.R. being a snitch.” Pete slapped my shoulder. “You okay, bro? You look spooked.”
“I’m good,” I shrugged it off, acting like I was.
“Looks like you’re getting a name put on your tattoo.” He walked over to the door, creaking it open. Vic was standing beside a man with his back turned to us. Directly in front of them, some other guy was holding onto a struggling little girl, hurting her. Victor looked up at us from the doorway and gave Pete a nod. Pete raised his gun and shot the man facing away from us in the back of the head. The man dropped to the ground, and the little girl he was holding screamed.
Vic got down on his knees and outstretched his arms to the girl—who, if I had to guess, was the same age of the boy J.R. killed. Vic brushed his hands down her hair, holding her in a way that made my stomach turn. Something about him touching her, soothing her, didn’t sit right with me.
“It’s okay, pretty girl,” he cooed to her. “I’ve got you now. I protected you.”
“So much for credit,” Pete muttered, closing the door. “Let’s get out of here, bro. Job’s done.”
“What was that about?” I stared at the door as if I could still see the little girl in the pink dress with long dark hair. “Who was that girl?”
“Don’t go there, man.” Pete poked my chest while squinting his eyes at me. He looked across the yard to the dead kid and to J.R.’s body. “We do the job and keep it moving. Doesn’t matter about the who or what. Besides, the little girl in there has protection from the one person you don’t want to cross.”
“Who is she, Pete? Why is she so important? I’ve never seen Vic act that way with another female, much less a kid.”
Pete never answered me.
“ERIC?” I NUDGED Eric’s shoulder as he lay face down on the bed. He was normally an early riser, waking several hours before the sun ascended in the sky. His two-hour morning exercise ritual was stringent. Despite shoving him hard, he didn’t rouse, forcing me to shove him a bit harder by way of his well-defined broad shoulders. “We’re going to be late for the…” I glanced down at my flat stomach and frowned. “Lat
e for the first appointment.”
Drowsily, he slid up and looked at the time. He mumbled a curse, seemingly upset about oversleeping. The perplexing expression on his face startled me. Eric wasn’t cocksure for a splinter of time. As though he knew I was examining him too closely and drawing conclusions, he quickly stormed up and made his way to the bathroom.
In less than five minutes, he was ready. In a simple black T-shirt, faded straight-legged jeans, and weathered baseball cap, he personified a rough-hewn style of perfection.
It took such little time for Eric to look ruggedly gorgeous in the morning. It took me more than an hour of primping and selecting the perfect thing to wear, only to settle on my normal comfortable outfit: skinny jeans, A-line tank tops, and the studded flats that led me through the summer days when I didn’t feel like wearing a skirt or a pair of shorts.
Eric opened the door to the doctor’s office, located in an office park on the four-lane busy Ridge Road, waiting for me to walk through. Through the door, I noticed the waiting room was bursting to capacity with women—some visibly pregnant—with and without their children. I felt a burning rush up the back of my neck and stepped back from the door to remain outside. “Can you check in for me? I can’t.”
He rolled his eyes and let out a heavy breath in perceptible annoyance.
“What did you expect?” I eyed him, put off by his impatience. “I can’t take my medication because of this…” I pointed to my stomach.
“You shouldn’t have been taking any medication in the first goddamn place.”
“Eric, after Casper’s wedding—”
“Don’t.” He let go of the door, allowing it to close and stalked toward me. “You’re just going to give me an excuse that serves as a copout because you don’t want to control your reactions. Reactions you can control.”
Feeling discomforted by the recent passerby who glanced in our direction, I began to have trouble breathing. “I think I’ve done really well considering,” I panted
“You haven’t done much of shit,” he rebuffed with a jagged edge to his tone.
Startled out of my descent into a proverbial windowless and tight room, I blinked up at him, wondering why he was being so glaringly unpleasant with me. I knew what I’d been told, but I wanted to believe in something else. I had to have faith in my knowledge of the man. I knew enough to determine when something in his life was spiraling out of control. Eric needed control in order to feel any semblance of peace.
“Eric, enough already.” I pressed my hands out, halting the invisible wall he threw at me. “What’s going on with you? I can’t keep tip-toeing around you. I don’t like doing it, and I don’t want to do it anymore. Getting it out and talking about it is supposed to help you get over it, correct? Can you tell me about what’s making you project your anger at me?”
His eyes narrowed as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Thought I did.”
“You’re upset because I’m not picture perfect happy about being pregnant?” My thoughts turned to Estelle, wondering if she really was pregnant with Eric’s child at one point. At once, I thought I couldn’t share any similarities with her. The realization quickly moved to the forefront my mind; we had quite a bit more in common than I thought. “If I were to say, have an abortion or give up the baby for adoption, would that solve all?”
His posture broadened as he nearly walked into me. “Don’t think I heard you correctly”—he leaned down until his lips were mere inches from mine—“but did you just mention something about getting rid of our baby?”
“I never wanted this in the first place!” The pregnancy reminded me of my inadequacies. I would rather die than to fall prey to the same mistakes our parents made with us. The world didn’t need another Nikki or Eric running around.
“I forced you to take my cum inside your pussy, huh? I missed the first dozen times, even before you went back on birth control without telling me. You could’ve easily turned me down and prevented it.”
“There is no such thing as turning you down.”
“You’re damned right there isn’t,” he bellowed.
I forgot about everything around us and was thrust fully into lividity. “Why do you want this so badly?” I flipped my hair up and away from my face, leaving my hand to linger at the crown. “Asking you is useless. I know that. You’ll never tell me anything I want to know. You’ll never tell me anything that paints you as anything other than the strong dark knight you pretend to be.”
Resting his back against the brick exterior of the clinic, he turned solemn. “It should be obvious.”
“We can’t make up for the things your parents did or didn’t do to you—for you—by making our own family. Our issues will still be there.”
His posture turned fully rigid as if he’d been shocked by a fast moving electric current. “Did you just compare me to my goddamned parents?”
“That’s not what I said. I-I can’t say anything right.” I threw up my hands and shook my head, before tucking them underneath my arms. “Everything I say, you fly off the handle about. Which is really humorous because I’m not the one standing in the darkest spot. You are.”
He shoved off the brick wall with his stance rigid and intimidating. “You know what, Nikki? You are just as big of a monster—if not worse—than I am.”
“Sit at the appointment without me. Can’t do this.” I turned on my heels.
He caught up with me, standing in front of me to halt my stride toward the car. Gently, he took my hands in his and exhaled a long, wavering breath. Keeping his chin tilted to his chest, his gaze—shielded by his dark, thick lashes—met mine. “I want the family I didn’t have. The family I wanted all my life and never got. I didn’t want it with Estelle. Her pregnancy was a mistake and an attempt to get my attention. When I didn’t react the way she wanted me to, she got an abortion in an attempt to get back at me. I’ve told you about the things she did. You know about the things she tried to do to us. She was a spiteful bitch.”
He sighed, taking a moment to erase the small hint of the sullen emotion shrouding his words. He brushed his hands underneath his baseball cap, irritation taking up its place in his mood again. “I’m tired of having to constantly prove to you how real this is to me. You…fucked up what I knew about my world—the world in general—and created a new one where you and I are the only people who matter. I felt like I could have everything I wanted, and tried to pretend I didn’t want, with you. I feel like I can have everything with you. When you say you don’t want what I want…it fucks me up something brutal, Nik.”
Suddenly thrown from irate to amenable, I faltered. I hated how he could do that so easily. It ranked as second in his two most brutal defenses against me. “I…I can’t help but think I’ll mess him or her up. I could barely take care of myself. You know that. How am I going to do this?”
He shook his head, cupping my face in his hands. “You’re not doing it alone.”
“You work too much. I will have to do the majority of it on my own.”
He chewed on his lip for a moment. His hands slipped down to my jawline as he curved his form to meet my height. “I’ve been thinking about doing this for a long time, and now I have a reason. I’ve been thinking about resigning my position at Strong. I’m not sure if I want to be an E.R. doctor anymore. Maybe I’ll teach if it comes to that. Honestly, when it comes down to it, I don’t have to work. If you needed me all the time, I would quit everything to be there for you and our baby.” He slipped one hand down to touch my stomach. “You’re not doing this alone. You never were, and you never will be. However you need me, I’m completely yours, my twisted angel. I’ve been yours since the moment I saw you.”
Touched deeply by his words, I closed my eyes and sobbed.
He pulled me forward, enveloping me in his arms. “Even sane people are scared they’re going to fuck their children up, and sometimes they do. Don’t think because we didn’t have the best examples, we can’t be the best examples. Things will
change for you. Just wait and see.”
“What if they don’t?” I choked on my words, struggling with my persistent sadness. “How does a mass murderer and a woman with a major depressive disorder equal a good start to parenting?”
His teeth sank into his bottom lip as he tried to fight a smile. “Being pessimistic about it isn’t going to help.” He held me at arm’s length. “We’re going to be late. Give me your insurance card and ID. I’ll check in for you.”
“I miss this Eric,” I whispered.
Loosening the grip he had on my body, he kissed my forehead.
“Why does he keep going away?”
He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, it was clear I was on the verge of losing the man I yearned for. “We’ll get into it at another time, Nik, okay?”
My gaze was glued to Eric as I lay half naked under a paper sheet on the clinic bed inside the examination room, waiting patiently for the doctor to arrive. Eric continuously fidgeted, his legs vibrated at a steady rhythm. I could scarcely believe what I was seeing. He’d never been one to show any behavior beyond his protective shield considered by someone to be a fault. The impenetrable metal armor was gone; Eric was nervous.
When the doctor arrived, Eric quickly stood to acknowledge her.
“Hello, Eric,” Dr. Savine greeted him warmly. “How are you?”
He rolled his shoulders and cocked his head to the left. “Alicia,” he said simply.
I peered at the doctor who more than likely broke a few laws to disclose things to Eric that she shouldn’t have—things to indirectly put me into the situation I was currently in. If Dr. Savine had been younger and fit more in line with Eric’s type, my concern would’ve doubled.
Dr. Savine felt around my stomach and took out a long alien-like probe, applying lubricant. “Spread your legs just a little bit more, Mrs. Brenton.”
The Starkest Truth (A Breaking Insanity Novel Book 2) Page 10