If You Still Want Me

by C. E. Kilgore

  If You Still Want Me

  The Stables (#3)

  By: C.E. Kilgore

  Copyright 2014

  Tracing The Stars at Smashwords

  All Rights Reserved

  Table Of Contents

  Disclaimer

  Beginning

  Middle

  End

  The Stables Series

  Book 1: All These Pieces of Me

  Book 2: Obsessive Compulsion

  Book 3: If You Still Want Me

  Book 4: Pierce The Heart

  Book 5: Crows Don't Sing

  Disclaimers

  This book is a work of fiction. While references might be made to locations, products or events, the names, characters, places, products and events described in the book are a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons, business establishments, events or locations is entirely coincidental.

  This book contains adult language and sexually explicit scenes that might be considered offensive to some readers. This book is intended for mature adult audiences, of adult age as defined by the laws of the country in which this book was purchased.

  BDSM remains one of the most strongly misunderstood lifestyles. I encourage anyone with an open mind to learn more about BDSM, but I urge strong caution about gaining your knowledge solely from the internet. The best place to start might be your local adult shop. None of the practices mentioned in this book should be attempted or tried without proper understanding and guidance. Some of the key principles in BDSM are trust, teaching, technique (practice) and time (patience).

  Lastly, this book contains adult relationships between three consenting individuals, including a homosexual male, a bisexual male and a heterosexual female. If you find any of these relationship or sexual orientation types offensive, then this is not the book for you.

  Tie a yellow ribbon 'round the old oak tree...

  Saul

  Aint no one ever said I was smart. Not my momma, not my sister, not even my best friend Austin or my girl Victoria. Heck, I don't have no hard feelings about it. Can't expect them to lie. I've known for a long time just how stupid I really am.

  Take my current state 'a affairs. Got my lame, stupid-ass drunk after six years sober, beat up one friend, destroyed my sister's livin' room while doin' it, then went out and got my stupid-ass handed to me by a bunch 'a Forester's trailer-born thugs. Now, I'm stuck in a damn hospital bed, wearing one of them gowns with my ass-cheeks flappin' in the wind, and old nurses who keep poking me with needles. Guess Vickie warned them not to send in the cute nurses, on account 'a my sweet smile she says can win over the Devil himself.

  "Ow!" Speak 'a the Devil - I do believe one 'a his hellions in runin' 'round Dallas General in a white nurse's uniform. "How many times you gotta poke an' prod me like I'm some heifer goin' through the chute?"

  The nurse, who's gotta be 'round 'bout near eighty, just smiles like she's my granny offering me a plate 'a cookies. "It wouldn't hurt as much if you would hold still, sweetie." She turns her attention back to the vial of blood she's drawing from my arm. Maybe they's vampires. They damn sure took enough 'a my blood to feed a family 'a six.

  "Almost done," she coos in a sing-song voice. The damn cookies are a lie, though, 'cause she tugs the needle outta my arm in a jerk that has my whole body twitchin' like I'm Ian. "There, was that so bad?"

  Yes! Damn straight it was! "No, ma'am. Didn't hurt none a'tall."

  She pats my arm before slapping a cotton ball and a band-aid over the puncture wound. I breathe sharply through a clench-jawed, toothy grin ta' keep from screaming as she puts on the band-aid. "Good boy. That should be the last of it. The doctor wanted to make sure you were right as rain before releasing you this afternoon."

  Oh, thank you, Jesus! "So soon? Well, shoot. Sure am gonna miss all your pretty faces."

  "I'm sure, but you've already missed Christmas with your family. Best get you out of here so you can spend New Year's with someone special, right? Like that pretty girl who's been coming to see you?"

  She winks at me, and I can't help but blush. "That's my girl Vickie."

  At least, she was my girl. I aint too sure what we are right now. Not after I went and made a fool 'a myself. Not after I saw her an' Austin...

  I push the thought aside so I can smile at the old nurse as she leaves the room, but the thought comes right back with the silence that follows. A cloud passes to cover the sunshine beaming through the large window next to my bed, and my mood darkens with it. My head is still messed up about the last few days as my addled brain tries to grasp what I saw. I know I saw them together. I know I saw her naked, and his hands on her, then all I saw was red.

  Austin's my best friend; been thick as thieves since he became another one of the lost souls Brandon's helped over the years. Something 'bout us just clicked, deeper than anything between me and Ian or Kyle. Austin gets me and doesn't ever try to tell me to grow up, or expect me to be anything other than what I am; even if what I am is just a stupid ole country boy who never quite crawled himself up outta that trailer park he was born into.

  He's a few years younger than the rest 'a us, so maybe that's why he's never looked down on my marked-up sneakers, or questions why I still play video games. I aint never questioned his choices none, neither. I aint never beat up on him for beatin' up Brandon and gettin' thrown in jail. He paid his time, he tried to save Brandon in the end from more hurt, and he's been through shit like me. I thought me an' him had ourselves an understanding. I thought he considered me his best friend, too.

  But a best friend don't touch a best friend's girl.

  Now, I know we was at The Stables, but Vickie and I's been exclusive there since the beginning. If we do stuff with others, we always do it together. Attached at the hip, we've been called, and damn right, that's how it should be.

  Victoria hangs my damn moon. She's my world, from stars to sunshine and all the good stuff in between. Since we was kids, I been stuck ta' her like glue and never ever thought about separating. She's my girl, and I love her.

  Things between us aint been exactly square since I went and asked her to marry me. She turned me down, 'cause she's smart. I wouldn't want ta' marry no stupid country boy, either. I aint got shit to offer her, really, but all I could think of, as I got down on one knee, was that I love her. We been together so long, I just figured what the heck would be different about being officially wed?

  Apparently, a lot.

  She'd said that she wasn't sure it was the right decision and that I needed to stop an' think about it some more, like I aint been thinkin' about it since I was old enough to understand what marriage was. I think maybe she just didn't wanna hurt my feelings. Her way 'a sayin' she loves me, but not enough to commit herself to being stuck with my sorry ass for the rest 'a her life.

  'Course, knowing what I know now about her an' Austin, maybe that was the real reason all along. She loves me, but maybe she aint in love with me no more. Maybe, she's in love with my best friend.

  Well, don't that little revelation suck harder than a leech on yer dick.

  God fucking dammit! Why the heck couldn't I see that one comin'? Oh, right, 'cause I'm a sorry, stupid sonofabitch.

  "Knock, knock."

  My scowl raises away from the bare white wall in front of me to find Brandon standing in the doorway, a hesitant grin on his scarred-up face. I do my best to mirror his smile, but the anger crawling under my skin won't give me any peace. "Hey, boss."

  He takes that as an invitation and walks farther into the room. "How ya feeling?"

  "I'm sure I look worse than I feel," I keep the grin while pointing at my black eye.

  "You still look better than Kyle."

  That makes my scowl return for a second be
fore I'm able to produce an expected chuckle. I'm the lighthearted one 'a the group who don't hold no grudges and can laugh off any slight. Right. Then that bastard sneaks around with my baby sissy while that other bastard sneaks around with my Vickie.

  Still, I grin like the fool I am. "He deserved it."

  "Not sayin' he didn't," Brandon stops at the foot of my bed, his fingers tapping the metal rail.

  The thick wedding band around his ring-finger clinks. Not three damn months ago, I officiated his weddin' with Emma, and here he is, standin' there like I know he's got somethin' to say - somethin' I aint rightly sure I wanna hear.

  I open my dumb mouth anyway. "How long?"

  He stares at me, debating his answer, but I know Brandon won't bullshit me. "Kyle's been officially dating Sarah since she was fourteen, but they've been close longer than that."

  I choke, not entirely ready for that. Fourteen? "And you knew." It's a statement. The answer is written all over his fucked-up face.

  "We all did." He sighs, running a hand through his hair while his big frame casts a shadow over my bed.

  I may be tall enough to play pro-ball, but Brandon's built like a damn bull. The light catches his brown eyes, and I can see the war goin' on in them. He's hurtin' over this.

  Good. At least I aint the only one.

  "He's in love with her, Saul."

  "Sure got him a funny way 'a showin' it." I cast my scowl out the window. "Sneakin' around like a rat. He could'a at least asked my permission."

  "Would you have said yes?"

  "Hell no!" I glare at him like he's dumber than me. "And you know damn well why! That boy's dick seen more dropped panties than Ron Jeremy. He aint good enough for my baby sissy."

  "And Rob is?"

  "That sumbitch aint part 'a this conversation, Brandon, though I'm thinkin' about makin' him part of it so he'll pack his bags and leave Sarah in peace for good."

  "You don't mean that."

  "Don't tell me what I don't mean!" I'm madder than a pissed-on hornet, but I swallow my anger as a nurse Pops her head in the door with scowls directed at the both of us.

  "Sorry, ma'am," Brandon apologizes to her like the gentleman he is, and she titters with a coy little smile before leaving. Even half-fucked-up, Brandon can make an old maid swoon. He takes in a deep, audible breath, and I know I'm about to get more truth than I want.

  "I'm sorry for keeping it from you, but Kyle swore us all to let him and Sarah keep their business to themselves. It was going good, then something happened before we left for college and-" He sighs. "She broke his heart, but he still loves her, and she's letting him in. Stringing him along-"

  "Careful what you say 'bout Sarah."

  "I'm sorry, man, but you need to hear both sides. You know Sarah's like kin to all of us. It's been tearing all us up for years now, and with Rob's drinking... I just think maybe you should talk to Kyle."

  "Not unless he wants another conversation with my fist," I mutter, but it's a shallow threat.

  Brandon sighs heavily again, but I don't feel sorry if I'm disappointing him. Everything around me right now has been a disappointment, so he can join my fuckin' club. Well, not everything, I guess. "Vickie tells me we get to plan for another wedding?"

  I can see he doesn't want to let the topic about Kyle go, but he does. "Yup. Charlotte said yes."

  "Damn, Ian didn't waste no time. Your influence, I think."

  He shrugs. "When it's the right girl, you... Shit. I'm sorry."

  "No, no, it's fine," I smile because I wanna be happy for Ian, even if the twitchy little shit probably knew about Sarah and Kyle this whole damn time. My smile falters. What a shitty fuckin' week it's been. "Vickie had a lot 'a sense, sayin' no to me, and I guess now I know the real reason why."

  Brandon's one and only eyebrow cocks up high. Well, would ya look at that. It seems Brandon 'in control of everything' Peters don't know soemthin' I do.

  "And what's that?" he asks, clearly confused.

  "Austin." The name barely gets past my lips, and it leaves a bitter aftertaste that has me reaching for the glass of lukewarm OJ that's been sitting on the bed-tray since breakfast. "I caught them together. Dunno how long it's been goin' on, but... It is what it is."

  His eyebrow lowers and he shakes his head at me, like I still don't know a damn thing. I'm so tired 'a seein' that look on people's faces. People who're supposed to be my damn friends.

  Brandon's fingers tap the bed again. "I think you need to talk to Austin, then, because I don't think you saw what you think you saw."

  What kinda cryptic bullshit is that? Vickie was nakeder than a jaybird, and Austin had her in his arms. They was dancin' to some old country song, smilin' and laughin' in quiet whispers as his tan, calloused hands caressed her smooth, dark skin. Intimate, with love in their eyes.

  "I know what I saw," I mumble against the plastic cup before drinking down the sour liquid.

  I know what I saw, because I can still feel it - like a spike being driven into my heart, over and over. Every time I close my eyes, I see it. A knock on the door, and it's standing right in front of me.

  Victoria

  I hate hospitals. I hate the way they smell, like something died a few doors down while something else pissed in the hallway. I hate the bright, florescent lighting and stagnant, sterile air. The sound gurneys make as they roll down the hall. The beeping medical equipment. The lost, sometimes desperate looks on people's faces. Momma telling me it didn't hurt so bad while her face was black and blue.

  I hate it here, but here I am for the fourth day in a row. I'm here, because that damn fool went and acted like a damn fool. I'm here, because I owe it to him. I'm here, because I love him.

  Knocking lightly on the door, the look on Saul's face tells me I'm interrupting an unpleasant conversation, while Brandon's expression gives me a pretty good idea what they'd been talking about. Saul does his best to erase the scowl and smile up at me, his shaggy blond hair uncombed. His green eyes are dark, though, like they're seeing straight through me, and maybe seeing something he don't much like.

  "Hey, Vickie!" Saul manages a grin, his gaze dropping to the bag in my hands. "Presents?"

  "A change of clothes," I smile right back, walking into the room. I pause as Brandon gives me a kiss on the cheek then I dump the bag on the foot of the bed. "Ready to go home?"

  "Depends on where that is," Saul replies, a subtle edge to his voice and a loaded gun within the question.

  It's been like this since he caught me and Austin - no, he didn't catch anything. We weren't doing anything wrong. Saul's the one who jumped to conclusions, ran off, got drunk and... Damn, but God help me, I can't put all the blame on him, either. He may've been acting a fool, but I've been in the wrong just as much as him and Austin.

  "I have to get back out to Plano," Brandon steps in when a strange silence lingers. "I just wanted to come make sure the hospital bill was squared up. Insurance is payin' for most of it, and whatever it's not, Forester has to pay."

  "I don't want that shit-eatin' bastard's money," Saul grouses.

  "Not your decision," Brandon puts an end to Saul's childish pouting. "He signed a settlement agreement this morning. No jail time and no public court hearing, but he's gonna pay your medical bills, pay his taxes, give up his contractor's license for two years and do a shitload of community service. I recommended Habitat For Humanity."

  I smile at that. "Maybe they'll teach him how to properly use a hammer."

  "And proper building codes," Brandon winks at me, but his open eye is full of questions.

  I nod subtly that I'm okay. Brandon sees right through it, of course, but this is my battle to fight, not his. This has to be done on my terms, and Austin's. I just wish that boy would hurry up.

  "Well, I'll leave you to it, then." Brandon switches his gaze back to Saul, and I'm relieved to have my boss's concerned eyes looking elsewhere. "If you're up for it, I could use some help out at the estate before our New Year's Eve bash on Wednesday."


  "No problem, boss. Doc said aint nothin' broke, 'cept maybe my pride."

  "You had three bruised ribs and a severe concussion," I remind them both, crossing my arms with a stern glare. I swear, men turn into babies when they catch a cold, but get the shit kicked out of them and they'll tell you they're fine. "And that same doctor warned you to look for blood in your urine in case they kicked your kidney sideways."

  Saul pouts, like he always does, and it's cute, like it always is. "I'm fine, honey. Boss-man needs help, an' I swear, if I start pissin' blood, I'll set down the decorations an' call the doc."

  "I'll keep an eye on him," Brandon assures me on his way out the door.

  "You better, Peters," I glare with a smile on my lips. "Or you'll be here for more than just a visit."

  "Yes, ma'am," he winks at me again before leaving.

  As soon as Brandon's gone, the uneasy silence moves back in. It's been like this for a while now, between Saul and I. It used to be, you couldn't get a word in between us, and we'd laugh more than talk, or just hold each other. It used to be that words weren't so necessary. Lately, it feels like words are the only thing keeping us afloat.

  "You still goin' down to N'Orleans for New Year's?"

  I stop staring at the empty doorway and turn to face Saul and his question. After the big flood, my step-father, whom I've called daddy since I was thirteen, took the whole family down there with a mission to build a new church and rebuild the community. Everyone went, including some not even in the family. His congregation was his flock, and where he said the Lord called him to go, everyone followed. Everyone, but me.

  "I missed Christmas. Daddy was a bit upset about that, so I figured I should go down for New Year's to try and smooth it over."

  "You tell him why you missed Christmas?" His voice is on edge again, leaving me unsure how to answer that question without the fear of stepping on something I shouldn't. Before I can think of how to approach it, he pushes. "You tell him yer stupid boyfriend done gone an' got the shit kicked outta him?"