10-Code (Rock Point, #4)

by Barker, Freya

  “Dylan...” My eyes lift to see her gazing down the bed at me.

  She holds out a hand and opens her legs. It’s all the invitation I need.

  I climb up and sit on my knees between her legs, taking in her body on full display in front of me. Her softly lush and mature hourglass shape beautiful and welcoming for my much harder one. The white lines decorating her soft breasts and stomach a testament to the three boys she carried. With her expressive eyes observing me, I run the tips of my fingers from the dent between her collarbones to the crescent-shaped scar just above her pubic hair. I trail it with my index finger from one hip to the other.

  “Theo ended up a C-section,” she explains in a soft voice and I just nod, oddly moved by the trust she shows me.

  There’s no attempt to cover herself from my scrutiny, which is an invitation better than the spread of her legs. Maybe she’s opening up as a result of her orgasm, maybe it’s the fatigue still lining her face, but it doesn’t matter; I’m finding my way inside and plan to stick around.

  “I’ll never get tired of looking at you,” I confess, my eyes mapping every dip, mark, and freckle on her soft, white skin.

  She sits up, hooks a hand around my neck, and draws me to her mouth. She doesn’t seem to care I still have her taste on my lips as she kisses me deeply, pulling me down on top of her. My hips fit between her thighs, and she instinctively tips up to align my cock to her entrance.

  “Condom,” I grind between my teeth, clenched as I try to hold back against the urge to bury myself inside her warm body. “Tell me you have one.”

  “Shit.” Despite my painful dick, I grin at her reaction, briefly dropping my forehead to hers.

  “We’ll plan better next time.”

  I reluctantly roll off her onto my back, covering my eyes with my forearm. Fucking hell, I might as well give up on any sleep tonight.

  A slight rustle of sheets beside me, and a warm hand on my abs has me lift my arm, just in time to see Marya’s pink lips slide over my cock. My mouth falls open and my hands grab onto the headboard, hips inadvertently surging off the bed.

  Holy son of a...

  CHAPTER 13

  Dylan

  Daylight is just breaking when we leave the Bureau Expedition on the side of Tripp Creek Road and set off on foot.

  I’d been a few minutes late, and Luna had already been waiting in the parking lot at the office, a knowing smirk on her face. I didn’t even bother asking why, it was clear her husband had shared last night’s events and Luna is all but stupid. Never mind I smelled like a fucking floral shop, finding only Marya’s bodywash in the shower this morning.

  I’d come so hard in her mouth; I ended up having no trouble falling asleep with her soft body curled into mine. Neither of us had been thinking straight, because we would’ve been fucked if one of her kids had come looking for her in the middle of the night. Can’t take chances like that next time.

  Luckily, all was still quiet when I dislodged myself from Marya’s hold this morning. She didn’t do much more than grumble, roll into the spot I just vacated, and bury her face in my pillow. The sound of her contented sigh was enough temptation to have me rush into her bathroom and rub one out in the shower—with the help of her rose-scented bodywash. The scent will forever be linked to sex and Marya in my brain.

  “That’s the car,” Luna whispers beside me as a Lexus in the cabin’s driveway becomes visible through the trees. “Rims are identical.”

  Apparently the camera feed had provided a little more detail than Marya was able to recall with the naked eye. The custom five-spoke bronze rims Luna mentioned visible on the video Ouray supplied her with, stand out clearly against the shiny black finish. Not exactly a car you’d expect parked outside of a rustic mountain retreat. It clarifies who was outside the gym last night, watching Marya, but that raises even more questions about why the hell he’s here.

  I haven’t had a chance to try and contact his current wife, to see if she has some insight, but that might need to be done with the kind of finesse I doubt I can pull off. She could be in on whatever he is up to. May be something to ask Luna if she’d be willing to take it on.

  “Why don’t you keep an eye on the back, let me knock on the door?” Luna suggests, and I’m instantly defensive. I wanted the satisfaction of being the one to slap the order in his hand.

  “Because I may be good, but your odds of bringing down a full-grown man charging out the back are still better.”

  She pulls up an eyebrow in challenge, but I easily capitulate to her reasoning. She’s right. He’s also more likely to open the door for a small, innocent-looking woman than he would be seeing my mug outside.

  I nod my agreement, lift my hand up—all fingers extended—so Luna knows to give me five minutes before she knocks on the door. I slowly make my way around the cabin, staying within the tree line. There’s no door at the back, just two windows and one is too small to fit a grown man. Probably the bathroom. That should make it even easier should he try to come out this way.

  I sneak up under the window the moment I hear the sharp rap of Luna’s fist on the door. I’m guessing this is his bedroom, judging from the sound of creaking bedsprings.

  With only the birds for background noise, I easily make out Luna’s loud and clear words, “You’ve been served,” and jog around to the front, just in time to see the fucker take her down. Not for long—you’d have to be well-trained to beat her in hand-to-hand combat—but long enough for him to land a solid fist to her jaw. Before I can even get to them, Luna has him flipped over and sitting on his back, cutting off his airway in a chokehold.

  “Easy, Roosberg. I’ve got better things to do than filling out endless damn paperwork if you off the asshole.”

  The asshole’s already bulging eyes open impossibly wider, giving me some satisfaction.

  “Fine,” she mumbles, letting the guy go.

  He scrambles to his feet and points a shaking finger at Luna. “That’s assault. You assaulted me. I’ll sue.”

  “Nah.” I shake my head. “Not gonna happen, my friend. I’d like you to meet FBI Agent Luna Roosberg; she’s my partner. We’ll take a few pictures of that nice bruise she’s going to have on her face, thanks to your sucker punch. You’re lucky I’d prefer you to disappear, or I might be tempted to arrest you for assaulting a law enforcement officer.” I turn to Luna. “Got your phone ready? Be nice to have something to remember this moment by.” I wink at her, before bending down to pick up the judge’s order the idiot dropped on the front step. I throw a jovial arm around his shoulder. “You dropped something.” Without thinking he reaches out his hand and takes the papers. “Smile,” I tell him, already grinning at the phone Luna is holding up. “In case you missed it the first time, asshole...You’ve been served.”

  “Fuck you!” he spits out, pivoting away from me as he waves the paper around. “If that bitch thinks she can keep me away from my kids, she has another thing coming.”

  “Barnes...” Luna warns me.

  She knows me well. I see red and have to stuff my clenched fists in my pocket to make sure I wouldn’t let one fly. I take a deep breath in before setting him straight.

  “Wrong again, friend. I would read that order very carefully before you get a wild hair. You come anywhere near Marya or her sons, I will personally make sure your ass lands in jail for a good long time. Think long and hard, Jeremy.”

  His face is almost purple, and I know he’s trying hard not to lash out again. Finally, he turns on his heel, stalks into the cabin, and slams the door shut.

  “Well,” Luna says, a smirk on her face as she tucks the phone in her pocket and starts walking down the driveway. “That was fun.”

  I bark out a laugh and follow her.

  “Not sure your husband will agree when he sees that bruise,” I tease her, grunting when she swings her arm around, catching me in the gut. “Ouch.”

  “Then don’t bust my bubble.”

  “HEY, KIDDO. WHATCHA up to?”<
br />
  “Homework,” he grumbles and I smile. Max is not a fan of homework; it’s like pulling teeth to get him to put the effort in. The kid is smart, so once he applies himself, he’s done in no time, but getting him there is tough. Ma is much better at it than I am.

  “Good for you. Get it out of the way.”

  “Dad? If I get it done, can we get pizza tonight?”

  “I’m sorry, Max, I won’t be able to get away in time for dinner, but I’ll pick you up after, and maybe we can make peanut butter and chocolate sundaes for dessert instead?”

  “Yeah! Sweet. Can I crush the peanuts?”

  “Check and see if your grammy has any, kid. I think we’re out.”

  I feel bad about skipping out of yet another dinner with my son, but I don’t feel any guilt promising him a rare treat if that makes him feel better. Call it poor parenting, I don’t give a damn. All I care about is making sure my child is happy, and he always is when I pull out his favorite dessert.

  I’m parked in her driveway, beside Marya’s Jeep Luna and I had dropped off this morning. I watch her house as I listen to Max talking to his grandma.

  “She’s got the peanuts.”

  “That’s great. Don’t forget them when I pick you up. Should be there before eight, okay?”

  “Yeah. Later, Dad.”

  Marya must’ve seen me in her driveway because the door is already opening when I come up her walk, her face showing relief.

  “I’ve been stalling,” she explains when I step inside. I brush my hand against hers, needing to touch her. I’d prefer pinning her against the door and plunging my tongue in her mouth, but with the three boys sitting at the dining table, all looking this way, that’s probably not a good idea.

  I turn my back on the boys and address their mother. “Stalling?”

  “Apparently Liam said something on the bus.”

  “Gotcha.” Swinging around I find all three boys still looking. “Hey, kids.”

  “Hey, Mr. B,” Harry chirps, but his middle brother jabs him with a sharp elbow.

  As I walk to the table, Liam’s eyes never leave me. “Why are you here?”

  “William Berger,” Marya snaps behind me. “Mind your manners.”

  MARYA

  Shit. Already this is not going well.

  I’m not sure what Liam said to them, but Theo and him rolled in the door fighting, throwing punches, and calling each other names. Liam appeared to have gotten the worst, his lip was bleeding, Harry seemed stunned and was on the verge of crying, and my firstborn just looked pissed.

  When I asked what was going on, it was Harry who blurted out it was about their dad. For the past five minutes, I’ve been trying to get more out of them, but neither Liam nor Theo are talking—and each time Harry tries to say something—he’s shut down by the older two.

  “Can I get you a beer?” I ask Dylan, who ignores Liam’s comment and takes a seat at the counter, his eyes on the boys.

  “I’ll hold off until after, thanks,” he says, with an encouraging smile. He knows I’m delaying.

  “All right,” I start, sitting at the table with the kids. “There’s really no way to ease into this, so I’ll lay it out. Your dad’s been gone for five years. He made it clear at the time he didn’t want to hear from me and we certainly didn’t hear from him. I can understand walking out on me, but I’ve never been able to understand how he could walk away from you three, but he did.” I take in a deep breath before I spill it all. “A few weeks ago, he called out of the blue, making demands. It wasn’t pleasant. He called again, and that was even less pleasant. Then he suddenly showed up at Liam’s game on Saturday.”

  “Why?” This from Theo, who looks at me sternly. My little protector.

  “Honestly? I don’t even know. I don’t know what moved him to show up like that, Bub. What I do know is that it doesn’t spell much good. He’s made some threats, which is why I went to see a judge yesterday, who signed a protective order.”

  “What’s that?” Harry pipes up, but before I can answer Theo does, his face hard.

  “It means he’s not allowed to come close to us, right, Mom?”

  My boy, so smart and so much more mature than I’d like him to be at thirteen.

  “That’s bullshit,” Liam interjects, angry.

  “You don’t know anything,” Theo fires back.

  “Boys,” I draw their attention before another fight breaks out and quickly look at Dylan, who’s been quiet so far. He just nods his encouragement. “Liam, I already explained to you, if your father wants to see you there is a right way to go about that. Threatening me, showing up where I’m working, that’s not okay. That’s just plain scary.”

  “Why were you scared?” Harry wants to know, his eyes worried. My sensitive kid.

  Time for more truth I would’ve preferred to keep from the kids, but I need them to understand how dangerous their father can be. “Because he’s hurt me before, Bub.”

  “You mean, like hit you?”

  “Yeah, baby.”

  “I don’t believe you.” I look at Liam, who is furiously blinking at tears and my heart breaks for him.

  “You’re so stupid. Our dad’s an asshole.” Before I can stop Theo, he jumps up, kicking his chair back from the table. “He was always a dick to Mom and I saw it. I saw him hit her, and I don’t ever want to see him again. Never!”

  Theo bails to the basement, Liam runs upstairs, and Harry sits across from me, big tears rolling down his face. I turn to Dylan, trying to keep my own emotions in check.

  “Now what?”

  He slips down the stool and closes the distance between us. I don’t even complain when he bends down, hooks a hand behind my neck and presses a quick kiss to my trembling lips. “Now you take care of your youngest, and I’ll tackle the other two.” Another kiss to my forehead and he’s off to the basement.

  “Come here, baby,” I tell Harry, who’s trying to wipe the tears that seem to keep coming.

  I don’t have to tell him twice. He’s up out of his chair and rounding the table. I barely have time to brace when he slams into my body.

  “I’m sorry,” he sobs into my shirt.

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, honey. None of this is your fault.” I guide him to the couch where he cuddles right back into me.

  “It is...my fault,” he sniffs. “Liam said Dad left because of m—”

  I quickly move my kid back a few inches so I can get in his face. “No. He. Did. Not. Your brother was wrong. Your father leaving had nothing to do with you.”

  I hope to God I got through to him when he ducks his head and shoves his face in my neck.

  A few minutes later, I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. Theo sits down on the couch on my other side, pressing close. I tilt my head back to see Dylan watching us.

  “Let me get Liam and we’ll talk this through,” he announces, and all I can do is nod, overcome with gratitude he’s here.

  It takes another ten before Liam shuffles into the room, his face blotchy from crying. I pull Harry onto my lap and pat the seat next to me.

  “Come here, Bub. Sit by me.”

  I swear if ever I’m unlucky enough to see Jeremy’s face again, I’ll rip off his dick and shove it down his throat for putting my boys through this.

  Dylan walks up behind Liam and gives him a little shove in my direction when he hesitates. When he sits down, leaving a gap between us, I lift my arm around his shoulders and tuck him closer.

  “Right.” Dylan takes a seat on the coffee table, right in front of us. “Here’s the deal, and brace, because it sucks. Your dad wasn’t a good dad, and so far he’s shown he still isn’t. What happened then and now is nobody’s fault but his. Not your mom and not any of you. You guys are a family, and you need to start looking out for each other like your mom has done by herself these past years. You can start by not fighting.” He directs a pointed look at each of the boys, and has them fidget against me. “But also by being smart, and being
safe. You all need phones.”

  It takes the two youngest jumping up and cheering before it filters through what he just said. Phones?

  “They’re too young,” I blurt out. “Theo just got one for his thirteenth.”

  “Mo-om,” Harry complains, but I ignore him.

  I’m focused on Dylan, who leans over and gives my knee a squeeze.

  “Babe, you want them safe? You’ve gotta give them the tools.”

  I hate it when he makes sense. “It’s not cheap,” I point out.

  “It’s not that much either, if you get them flip phones on a plan without data. I have a plan for Max with straight phone and text. I’ll hook you up.”

  “That’s not fair, I want an iPhone like Theo,” Liam complains, but I quickly pin him with a look, my mom reflexes thrown into high gear.

  “When you’re thirteen—like your brother; have a part-time job so you can pay for it—like your brother; and most important of all, work hard to improve your attitude. Until then you’ll have to make do with a flip phone.”

  I know, even as I’m saying it, I just caved to giving my kids phones. Dylan tries to hide his smile, but Harry makes no such effort, he’s grinning ear to ear. Drat.

  “Now that’s settled,” Dylan continues, ignoring my glare. “Let’s talk codes...”

  The boys are riveted when he starts explaining how radio codes work, but when they start making references to what I assume are games, it all becomes noise to me. I retreat to the kitchen and dig through the fridge for quick meal ideas, since it’s already nearing on six.

  I’m just putting my sausage bake in the oven—sliced smoked sausage, potato, chunks of pepper and onion, some spices, an egg, and grated cheese—when I feel Dylan’s hand on my hip. I close the oven door and turn to face him.

  “The boys are putting together their own list of 10-codes,” he informs me with a grin. “They just dubbed 10-99 Mom alert. As one responsible parent to another, I thought you should know.”

  “Appreciate it.” I grin back at him. “What are they gonna do with the codes?”