by Dee Ellis
“Yeah...I uh...what I mean is.... we...maybe, quite possibly...eloped about two weeks ago.” Shame washes over me.
I wanted to shout what I felt about Lola from the Chrysler building. Instead? We get hitched in secret. Lie to our friends and family. Out of fear. Fear of fucking it up, of it going south. We were goddamn fools.
“Oh, honey,” Mama’s voice is sad, no hint of anger or resentment that I kept this from her, “Now I know she’s important to you. How much you must love that woman. You won’t get it wrong, honey’.” I frowned at her response.
“Because I lied about marrying the woman I love, you know I love her? Explain.” Mama let out a knowing sigh and did just that.
“Might have been the fabled quarterback who married the town sweetheart, and headed into the sunset to live a hero’s life. That’s not my Hunter. That’s Brookhaven’s Hero. My Hunter hated crowds, attention. Loved a girl who could never be enough for him, nor he enough for her. Hated to share what mattered with anyone but maybe his Mama, or his baby sister. Tried his best to be the hero he thought the town needed; instead, he became the hero he needed.” The bridge of my nose itches with a mix of emotions.
“Mama....” Before I can say more, she continues.
“You never needed Brookhaven to know you. Not the you we know. You never wanted to share the things that mattered with anyone. Holly needed the world to know her, to love her. You just needed us and her to love you. That was enough. Remember Betty King?” Mama’s voice goes soft with memories of my childhood crush.
Of course, I remembered her. I was ten. Betty was fourteen. My babysitter. First girl who woke my dick up. I was so enamored with her, I pursued her with flowers—bought with money saved from a paper route—chocolates and bad poems.
No one, except Mama, knew that Betty wrote me back. And let me kiss her behind the barn. Not even Mama knew she let me use tongue. I’d watched Cinemax for some tips. Freshman year, Betty met Bobby Taylor and they fell in love, breaking my pre-teen heart. Last I heard, they were still married, though.
“Betty. My first crush has what to do with my wife, Mama?” I began pacing the room, anxious about the questions I had.
“It was your secret, the special thing you two shared. Even then, so young, the thing that mattered to you most was just for you. I am not surprised the next woman to matter to you is one you kept to yourself, too.” I smile so wide my face hurts, but tears sting my eyes again.
“I think I can get it right, I love her so fucking much. So much, Mama. Something’s not right, though. Told you, she’s gone. I think maybe...you know why.” Mama let out a sound and I sensed her taking the phone away from her ear.
“Come again, sweetheart? Why would I know something?” My pacing picked up as I began to explain my theory.
“I don’t think you know that you do, Mama. You and Daddy...how is the farm going? The truth, Mama. I need the truth.” Another shuffle on her end, and a deep, weary sigh confirmed my fears.
“I... we are fine, honey. Just got straight again. Had a few rough patches; you know we had a drought last summer, and bad summer before that. We’re straight now, Hunter. No need for concern.” I shook my head, taking my own phone away from my ear.
I felt like snapping it in half. I knew exactly why they were straight. Exactly why my bright, loud, mouthy wife had folded so quickly. Made that call so fast. Because of family. Mine, to be exact.
“Never knew anything like that, actually.” Lola had murmured one night as we talked about my family.
I had told her stories about family road trips all over the country. About memories of camping and fishing, bonfires and laughter. Lola didn’t know that kind of life. She had no fuzzy, warm memories to recall. I’d promised her I’d take her home to my family, who I cherished, and we’d make some with her.
“Mama. Do you know the name Lawton? Poppy or Reginald Lawton?” The soft gasp of recognition cools me like a bucket of ice water.
Mama then relates just how they got straight. The farm was struggling. Not enough for her to mention to me. Which meant it was bad. Just bad enough that it reeked of a target. I suspect Poppy laced up some boots, fixed on some of that icy Yankee charm, and conned my parents into taking Lawton money. Indebting them to her.
“How much, Mama?” The words came out tight, through gritted teeth.
“Enough. Tell me why, Hunter Jameson. Is Lola....is that why I saw her with the Lawtons? Hunter, was your Lola…a Lawton?” I shake my head despite the miles separating us.
“Lola is a Byrne. I need to know everything, Mama. Tell Daddy I need every piece of Lawton info he has, you got me?”
Two hours later, I am back in bed. Photos of my Lola soothing me again. I didn’t have a game plan before, but I sure as shit do now. Besides the filthy facts about the Lawtons, I now know the truth. Know how they did a back-alley deal with my parents that fronted them two hundred grand to pay off their debts.
One that they presented as part of a banking deal where they were bailing out local farmers. Bullshit. My family was targeted because I was with Lola. Not only did they fuck with my wife, they fucked with my whole family. Bad idea.
“You fix it, sweetheart. Make it right. No matter what it takes. We can lose the farm; hell, I’d like to get your Daddy to retire. You don’t need to lose your lady because we were foolish.” My Mama was no one’s fool, but desperate times allowed her to buy the fool’s gold Poppy Lawton had sold them.
Couldn’t blame them, of course. They were drowning, got offered a lifesaver, and grabbed hold. They couldn’t know my Lola—no, actually, Lola Von—was really a Lawton. I sure didn’t know. No, they could not be blamed for the slick bullshit pulled on them.
I could, however, blame the Lawton’s. I was about to bring some wrath down on them. Daddy gave me all the fire power I needed. On top of the dirt Diggs had, and the nearly completed arson investigation, I had no doubts I’d be leaving Westbrook with my wife.
The next morning, thanks to that handy dandy schedule, I knew just where to be. The Lawton’s had a luncheon at the W downtown. One where investors paid three grand a pop to listen to Reginald and Bucky tell them what good candidates they were. What a joke. Press and powerful Washington players would be there. So would I.
Tugging on my favorite cowboy hat, one I rarely wore in the city, my favorite worn in Levi’s, and dusty old boots, I headed out. I wanted to catch attention. Wanted to stick out. In a room full of Armani suits and Dior dresses, no doubt I would.
I showed up early to the hotel, catching a glimpse of the ballroom they’d be in. Staff set up tables with fancy napkins and more cutlery than I think you needed. After checking out the best exits, because I might need a quick getaway, I found a bench by the bank of elevators.
Sitting in wait, I leafed through Lola’s notebook. The one I’d found at the last hotel I’d gone to, hoping to rescue her from. Her art was stunning to me. Just like her.
Bright colors and clean lines, with witty dialogue and a bit of romance. Our love story had become her hero’s focus, and I loved reading it like an exciting adventure. Because it had been that. One scene was my favorite, and I felt like she meant it to be the end of the current story.
Lola’s heroes were strong, sexy, bright women like her, Charli, and Gigi. They swooped in with clever exchanges and sweet moments to rescue the men in their lives. Cage. Finn. Me. I’d entered her story months ago. The last scene, still not fully colored in, was of us. Sitting on a brightly lit firetruck, with twinkling stars overhead, we were kissing. A word blurb spoke our thoughts.
Lola: He had anchored me to him in all the ways possible. Chased away the shadows and let my world be as bright and noisy as I wanted it to be.
Hunter: Lola ended my bunnie parade. Filled my life with colors and sounds. I counted the freckles on her nose, the steps it took me to get to her and the breaths she stole away from me.
Lola: We still had shadows. Who didn’t? But they weren’t dark or scary now. They were green
, like his eyes, purple like the streaks of color in my hair, bright red like the bands on our fingers. They were noisy like Gerdie and Chicago, with the slow drawl of his southern sweetness.
Fuck, I loved her. It had started like a flickering flame. Like most fires. Lola’s sweet laughter, quirky style, and bright soul ignited it. It burned now like a goddamn inferno. Nothing would put it out. Nothing. Even if I got it wrong, if I had to go back to Chicago without her, it would always burn. Wasn’t another Lola for me.
As I waited, I counted the square designs on the carpets. Two hundred sixty-eight. Hanging lights down the hall. Fourteen. Counted men in black suits. Forty-two. Women in blue dresses. Twelve. Sexy pixies with purple eyes. Zero.
My eyes shot up from the colorful pages when the bank of elevators across from me dinged. Anticipation at seeing my lady built in my chest. Even as fear that she’d not be pleased to see me rolled in my gut. I heard Poppy’s icy voice, and an equally cold male’s voice answering back. Reginald Lawton.
They stepped off first. Poppy was dwarfed by his size, but stuck close beside him, speaking rapid fire. My eyes bounced in their sockets, looking everywhere for signs of my Lola. I didn’t see her at first, but she was there. I felt her.
I couldn’t breathe; my chest ached and I could hear my blood pumping. Could fucking hear it. Behind Senator Lawton and Poppy, I spotted the Fairchild brothers. Took everything in me not to end Seth Fairchild where he stood. My knuckles cracked, my arms shaking as I held the arms of the leather chair I was in. Waiting for her was all that kept me focused. Then, she stepped out.
Fuck, I’d missed her. Hated what I saw, though.
Lola was timid. Head down, face drawn. Empty. Hiding behind Seth, following dutifully like his little shadow. Instead of bright purple streaked hair and glittering violet eyes, I found another Lola. Blue eyes and long, bright blond hair curled past her shoulders. In a demure blue dress that matched her sister’s bright red on, she was washed out. Until her eyes lifted just enough to spot me.
The others missed it; missed me entirely, in fact. Lola didn’t.
I saw her catch her breath. Saw it. Her perfect tits bounced in her dress. I ignored how my dick jerked. As I watched, Violet Lawton became my Lola Bear. Bright colors returned to her beautiful face, her eyes sparkled, blue contacts or not, and her full, pink lips twisted as she bit at them. The beast in me wanted to beat my chest and bellow “Mine”. I didn’t, though. Instead, I sat silent, watching her.
My eyes dropped to her left hand. The B was still thick and dark. As if she’d added to it, again. My mouth twitched in a smirk. For a moment, I let my eyes roam over her; from her pricey Louboutin’s that added about two inches to her height, to the manicured tips of her fingers. Lola never wore heels, and her fingers were often stained with paint or ink.
I tipped my head a little as they passed me, heading towards the ballroom. Not one of them noticed the out of place cowboy sitting there. Waiting. Lola slowed her pace, though. I breathed deep as she passed me. Though her sweet freesia scent was changed by new perfume, I still smelled her. I stood. Heard her soft gasp as I pressed close, ignoring the other fucks.
“Morning, Darlin’. Come to bring you home. Don’t look like my Lola Bear. Smell like her, though,” I bent my head and bit at her neck, my fingertips at her waist, “Taste like her too. I wonder...” Right there in the lobby, with her father, sister and ex-husband a foot away, I slid my hand under her dress, bunching it at her hip.
Finding lacy panties, expensive no doubt, I tugged once. Hard. The rip of her ruined panties was drowned out by the waiting crowd greeting the good senator. As was my lady’s moan as I slid two fingers into her slick, tight heat.
“Feel like her too.” I pumped twice, feeling her go gooey soft, then I was gone.
Lola’s head swiveled as I fell back into the crowd. Our eyes locked as I sucked my fingers into my mouth. Licking them clean, I groaned and nodded at her. I mouthed “taste like her” and Lola flushed like a fresh, ripe peach. Lola never looked away though.
At least not until Seth noticed her lagging. Lowering his head, he whispered something at her ear. I growled from five feet away, and Lola shuddered. It was not the time; not yet. I had a plan. One that involved hanging all the Lawton dirt out like dirty laundry on Mama’s clothes line. I liked plans. Order. I was good at following lists, checking things off.
Lola taught me to go with my gut.
When they filed towards the dais where the Lawton family would pretend to be perfect for the next two hours, I still planned to follow my list. Execute my plan. Until Seth Fairchild wrapped a thick, filthy hand around my wife. Fingertips dug into her skin. Skin I knew to be soft and supple. His marks would be on her skin.
Seth yanked once, even as he smiled at the powerful men and women they passed. No plan. Not now. Not after seeing those hands on my lady. The beast came out. I was less Hunter-the-planner and more King Kong as I tore across the room.
Lola’s gasp as my arm slid around her waist shouldn’t have made me hard. I was there to rescue her, for fuck’s sake. It did, though. The way her softness melted into me didn’t help. I didn’t say a word; just kept my eyes on the other Lawtons and started backing away.
Lola shuffled back with me. Kind of looked like we were dancing. Tango, maybe. I felt her giggle as it bubbled up her chest. That made me impossibly hard. The moan she gave me when she felt that, also, didn’t help.
“My Fay Wray.” I murmured into her thick hair, the half that was all hers.
“My King Kong.” My mouth was at her ear, murmuring stupid King Kong quotes as we moved.
Another giggle was cut off as the Lawtons, and the Fairchilds, noticed us backing away from their march towards the front. I assessed the situation fast. Two bodyguards. One Lawton, three Fairchilds. Poppy. Two wives. Then my eyes rounded the room. Fifteen major press outlets. At least eight congressmen. More hassle for them than me, I decided.
“Excuse me,” Seth was livid, crossing back towards us, “Let go of my wife.” Despite the demand, which he whispered as his eyes narrowed, he didn’t come too close.
“No, no. My wife. Mine. You don’t know me--” Fairchild laughed coldly, crossing his arms as he looked down his nose at me.
“I know you. I know all about trash like you.” I clucked my tongue as I backed away more, bringing Lola with.
“Then you should know how this goes down. Because I know about men like you, too. Eyes are watching, Fairchild. We can do this like King Kong. Because, I am a beast when it comes to what’s mine. Think of Lola as my Fay Wray. And this lovely, press attended soiree as the fucking empire state building. I will go ape shit and end this here, for the entire world to watch on CNN later.” Seth blanched, but Poppy was there behind him.
“Violet,” Lola shuddered in my arms, shrinking away, “You know the rules, big sister. You know what’s at stake. Let’s go.” Her head jerked towards the dais.
“Hunter...” The fragile ache in her voice as she spoke broke my fucking heart.
“Hush, Darlin’. We don’t play by their rules. I know the score too, Pops,” I sneered, still taking steps back as they followed, away from the dais, away from the press, “Know about the deal you tied my family up in. In fact, I know every single detail about it. And the others you made in Brookhaven.” Poppy’s eyes widened, bouncing left and right anxiously.
“Hunter,” Lola softened against me even more, twisting at the waist, “You know? Your parents...” I hated the sadness that washed her out then, and I intended to chase it away. Brighten her back up.
“I know, baby. I came for you before I knew. Still here to save you after I found out. Changes nothing. Picked the wrong beast to fuck with, Darlin’. Told you I’d go King Kong for you.” I glanced up just as Seth advanced quickly, reaching towards us.
“Violet. Come. Now.” Holding his hand out, he flipped his fingers fast. Like he was calling a dog.
“You lay another fucking hand on my wife, I might be on the ne
ws for murder, mother fucker. You don’t touch her. Ever again. You’re done, Fairchild. Done being in the shadows of her life.” I growled the last words, shaking with rage.
“Who do you think you are? I mean, do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” Seth smirked, and Poppy righted her face, her lips curling.
“Oh, I do. I don’t think you really know me. Don’t know the men I have at my back in Chicago. The ones tracing your footsteps in a fire that let me rescue Lola the first time. Or the men tracing the dirty deals your fuck toy over here,” I nodded at Poppy, the smirk sliding from her face “Burned a dozen farmers with. You certainly don’t know about the two men I watched playing bob on the knob at the Lawton mansion. Or the filthy fuck you sold your racy little videos to,” I relished the looks of surprise on all their faces.
“News flash, they’re all my men. All just biding time. Waiting for me to ring the alarm. This plays out one way, Fairchild. We walk out of here nice and quiet now. Back to Chicago. Our lives. Both of which no longer have you fucks looming over. It’s done.” I had reached the door by now, and since my plan had backfired, I didn’t exactly know what came next.
Only thing that mattered was that I had Lola. That sweet, soft body of hers was walking in step with mine. Even though she watched them, waiting for them to pounce, the tension in her was gone. Color bloomed back in her beautiful face as her arms slid to lock with mine. Her shoulders squared, her chin lifted. There’s my girl.
For a few moments, I waited for a response. Senator Lawton had never slowed his move towards the dais. Now dark eyes watched us impatiently. He was bothered. I loved it. Despite the sinister glare in his icy blue eyes, the same smile I’d seen Poppy slide on like a mask tipped his mouth.
Poppy abandoned Seth completely, taking Bart’s hand to follow him up to the dais. Bart seemed mildly amused, honestly. Seth glared back at me for a moment long, then twisted to saunter up behind the rest of them. I knew it wasn’t over, of course. The hushed whispers they shared once they gathered assured me of that.