Seeking Our Forever

by Liberty Parker

  “Do your worst, there’s no way I’m telling you a fucking thing!” This man really does have a death wish. I’d never dare a man like Atticus or Silas to ‘do their worst’ and expect to leave with my mental state of mind intact.

  “Thank you,” Atticus smirks and Silas yawns like he’s tired of all of the chit-chatting. I’m both intrigued and appalled at my brothers’ actions. I’ve never been on this side of the playing field before, and it’s something I’m finding that I don’t particularly care for.

  “Psst…” I whisper to Atticus. “Why are you thanking him?”

  “Because now, little brother, we get to play,” he happily answers my question.

  “Oh,” I’m a bit confused. I thought that’s what we were already doing.

  I watch as Silas brings out the blowtorch and Atticus sparks it to life. I watch as Atticus lights up the bottom of the first tin can, it turns red in color and I find my sight drawn to it. Silas comes over, putting thick material gloves on his hands. He then takes the can from where Atticus was heating it up, and the piercing sounds coming from the can has me covering my ears with my hands.

  “The fuck is in that can?” I hunt for an answer from either one of my brothers.

  “You’ll see,” Atticus happily informs me. I feel like I’ve joined the cast of Texas Chainsaw Massacre. All Atticus is missing is a mask made of human skin and he’d have the lead role.

  “You gonna be okay?” Silas asks me from across the room where he’s standing over Senior’s makeshift coffin.

  “Yeah,” I clear the clog from my throat. “Sure, I’ll be good.” I fucking pray I’m not lying to his ass.

  “Don’t upchuck, little brother,” Atticus teases me as he seems to enjoy doing. He’s done it to me my entire life.

  “You worry about yourself, big brother,” I assertively announce.

  “You got it,” he winks at me like this is just another day lathered in sunshine.

  “Can we get on with this? Got shit to do,” Silas asks us.

  “I’m quite enjoying this. Please let them continue,” Junior tries to draw this out.

  “Be quiet, you piece of shit.” I’m having a hard time understanding how he’s not petrified right now. I’m not in the position he is and even I know that he should keep his trap shut tightly.

  “I’m just saying,” he continues.

  “Keep up with the words and we’ll make sure you go first,” Silas advises him. Instead of opening his mouth again, he simply nods his head.

  “You coward,” Senior spits out towards Junior.

  “Fuck off, Dad!” Junior hollers back.

  The three of our heads go back and forth as they bicker with each other. Silas finally having had enough, takes the tin can and opens the lid, he drops the object inside of it on Senior’s stomach. I cringe when I see a rat slithering on his naked skin. I watch as Silas pulls his knife from its sheath on his belt and slices open a piece of skin on his pec. “Fuck!” Senior yells out in anguish. The rat doesn’t attack, pissing Silas off.

  “Your turn, Atticus.” Silas informs him. Atticus picks up the crate-like box, turns it sideways and shakes it. Now, I hate some fucking rats, but when I see what falls out of that box, I am immediately climbing up on top of the work bench. I had kind of hoped the writing was incorrect. Guess I was wrong.

  “Is that a motherfucking scorpion?” I shriek out, my voice sounding like it did when I went through puberty.

  “Did you just squeal like a little bitch?” Atticus asks me.

  “Nope. Nuh-uh,” I answer, squaring my shoulders and climbing off the table, never taking my eyes from the box in Atticus’ hands.

  “Stop being a pussy and get over here and help us,” Atticus berates me.

  “Fuck off, Atticus. I’m perfectly happy right over here.” Forgetting that Tig was in the room with us, I look over in his direction when he howls out in laughter.

  “I-yo-I’ve never heard a man make that sound before,” Tig continues his hyena act.

  “I believe in men settling things with their bare knuckles, in a boxing ring, this shit is crazy!” I point at my brothers and the objects in their hands.

  “Still not willing to talk?” Silas taunts Senior, who has been stung multiple times by the scorpion that was dropped onto his stomach. The rat is slinking around and when the scorpion rears back to sting again, the rat bites down on Senior. His scream raises the hairs on the back of my neck.

  “Dad!” Junior hollers, then begins laughing like a fucking lunatic. Conveniently, when Silas and Tig set up the boxes, they placed them in such a way that both men could see what was happening to the other. This seems to be entertainment to Junior. Mustn’t care too much for the father, either that or he’s fallen off the deep end.

  “Got nothing to say,” Senior states. His voice is pain-laced and he no longer resembles a fine, upstanding member of society.

  Looking down at my watch, I see that two hours have passed. Both Marcus and his father passed away less than fifteen minutes ago from the poisonous venom that overwhelmed their failing bodies due to the multiple stings they received from the scorpions. I’m pretty sure the rat bites didn’t help things any.

  “We really didn’t get any further information, but this sure was fun,” Atticus states. “Let’s get this shit cleaned up, Silas. Jonas, you go see if you can dig anything else up. I can’t for the life of me figure out who the fuck they’d be so terrified of that they’d willingly allow themselves to be tormented to the point of death.”

  “Who the fuck are you, giving me instructions?” Silas inquires.

  “Your brother, asshole. The man whose woman and unborn baby, both of them defenseless mind you, is giving you the orders. Now, are you gonna help me or what?” Fucking hell, I’m ready to escape the room of horrors and get my ass back upstairs in my batcave where I belong.

  I’m far beyond done with the two of them and what we’ve just done that I wave my hand in the air and head to my cave. They can sort the trash themselves. I’m wondering if I need to go upstairs and cleanse my soul so Satan himself doesn’t come to collect my soul when the day comes that I take my last breath.

  Twenty-One

  Raven

  Six months later

  * * *

  Atticus is currently pacing Piper’s hospital room. She’s in the middle stage of labor, and he’s a freaking disaster. Silas and Jonas refused to step foot into this room, opting instead to stay firmly seated in the waiting room. As soon as Piper had her first contraction, then an hour later when her water broke, I thought they were both going to pass out. They both turned as white as a sheet, then started sweating profusely. It was funny but doesn’t leave me much hope for the future.

  I found out last night that I’m pregnant, but didn’t have a chance to share the news with Jonas this morning, especially after he had a panic attack when Piper announced it was time to head to the hospital. Damien was so cute when this happened. He went and got a wet washcloth and spent some time wiping the sweat from Jonas’ neck, whispering words of encouragement in his father's ear.

  Three months ago, Damien asked Jonas at the dinner table, in front of his brothers, if he would be his dad. Let’s just say that Jonas wasn’t the only one tearing up that day. I swear the men's hormones in that house are more severe than the women’s are.

  “Atticus! I need some damn ice chips!” Piper bellows. I’m impressed at her vocal strength and the fact that she’s not afraid to yell at him.

  He rushes over and grabs the cup, then runs out the door. Hopefully he comes back. “You’re doing well,” I encourage her.

  “He’s driving me batshit crazy,” she grumbles trying to find a comfortable position. I look on in amazement as her stomach contorts with her child's movements. They weren’t able to determine the sex of the baby, he or she had their legs crossed at every ultrasound. Needless to say, we’ve had a very unhappy mother to contend with for months now. A moody Piper is not a fun Piper. “I needed a break, which
is why I sent him for more chips.” I have no desire to inform her I could use a break from them both for a few minutes, hours or months. Whichever.

  “Oh you’re crafty,” I tease.

  “God, how much longer?” she moans. “Why did I say I didn’t want drugs again? What the fuck was I thinking?” I’m not sure where her mindset was when she made this decision, but I make a mental note to make sure I get drugs. Lots and lots of drugs.

  “You said you wanted to experience childbirth in all its natural glory,” I remind her. I don’t mention that Destiny and I worked for weeks to talk her out of this decision, to which she rolled her eyes at us and told us she was made of strong shit. She’s a badass, her words, not mine.

  “Why the fuck are you reminding me? It was a rhetorical question.” Where the fuck is Destiny right now? Dammit, Piper’s her sister, not mine. She should be in here taking some of this shit. She sure is taking a long time in the restroom.

  Before I can respond, Atticus comes flying into the room, a huge-ass jug full of chips in his hands, a nurse hot on his heels. “Sir, sir, we don’t recommend you give the mother-to-be that many chips. A small cup is sufficient.”

  Not wanting to be any part of this confrontation, I walk over to the bathroom and bang on the door. It cracks open and Destiny has one eye that is visible. “Is she still in labor?” she quietly whispers.

  “Yes, the devil is still inside of her.” Her eyes widen and the door slams in my face.

  “Call me when it’s over!” she calls out, then I hear the lock click. The bitch not only shut the door in my face but locked my ass out too?

  I tune back into the conversation between Atticus and the nurse and roll my eyes at his indignation. “Fuck that, my wife wants chips so I’m making sure she’s got them,” he growls out. The nurse takes a step back, her eyes wide. I shake my head at her and she leaves the room, not saying another word. Why is it I suddenly feel like I’m living in the world of lunatics? I knew this family was a little on the crazy side, I had no idea that they were clinically insane!

  “Atticus! You were rude to my nurse. What if she spits on our baby or something?” Piper has tears in her eyes. Fucking hell. Did she really just say that shit?

  “No motherfucker better spit on our kid. I’ll wipe the floors with them,” he promises. She stops crying and a smile breaks out on her face. Guess that’s sweet talk coming from him. I think I prefer my man and his words because Atticus is about as sweet as a fucking cactus.

  “I love you,” she purrs at him. No, no, no. My ears are going to start bleeding.

  “I’m gonna take a break, check on Damien,” I mutter. Before they can respond, I walk out the door. I don’t stop until I reach Jonas and I practically fall into his arms.

  “How’s it going?” he inquires.

  “We’re on the fifth level of hell, I think. Atticus has pissed off a nurse. Piper’s worried about someone spitting on the baby because of him. Destiny has locked herself in the bathroom and won’t come out.”

  “What’s wrong with Destiny?” Silas asks. Figures. He misses the rest of that and only hears her name.

  “She’s a wuss. She can’t handle Piper being in pain or spewing out profanities. Who knows? All I know is it’s looney tunes in there right now and I need a damn break.” I almost begged the nurse for some morphine in there so I didn’t give a damn what was going on around me.

  “She’s not a wuss,” he growls out. “She’s a strong woman.” Jesus, now he’s going to go on and on about all her attributes.

  Rolling my eyes at his defending of his woman, I throw my hands up in the air and say, “You know what? I’m tired of this shit. You deal with it,” I tell Jonas as I blow a kiss at Damien sitting quietly in the corner, then I swiftly walk out the door before anyone can call me back. When I make it down the elevator and out the front entrance of the hospital, I walk out and breathe in the fresh air.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been standing out here listening to the crickets chirp when the sound of the doors opening captures my attention. “Raven!” he hollers as he trips over his feet and stumbles out. “They need you back in there. She’s ready to push.”

  Sighing, I turn and head towards him. “I suppose Destiny’s still in the bathroom, huh?” He grins and nods as he throws his arm over my shoulder and pulls me close.

  “I know this has been a long day for you. I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”

  “You better,” I sass.

  * * *

  Jonas

  * * *

  I’m sitting in this chair holding my forty-minute old niece in my arms. She weighed in at a whopping seven pounds thirteen ounces and was twenty inches long. They named this little beauty Ansley Amaya Nelson. “You’re perfect,” I whisper. Now I’m thinking of Raven swollen with my child and realize we need to have that discussion soon. I want it all with her— I want her to wear my rings, I want her to bear my children, and I want to adopt Damien and make him legally mine.

  “You about ready? Damien’s nearly asleep,” Raven murmurs. I look at her and smile. She ended up being the real trooper when it all came to a head because Atticus passed out like a Texas tornado making its way through a trailer park. He’s pissed as hell because he now has seven stitches in the back of his scalp from hitting the serving tray when he went down.

  “Yeah, let’s get our little man home, beautiful.” I hand Ansley over to Destiny, who is sitting on Silas’ lap. Not touching that one with a ten-foot pole right now, but they both seem to be happy with whatever’s going on between the two of them.

  I go over to the couch where Damien is struggling to keep his eyes open and pick him up. He lays his head on my chest and quickly falls asleep. Raven comes up to me and wraps her arms around my waist. We leave as a family, and I’ve never been so happy in my life.

  Nothing is better than this.

  Twenty-Two

  Raven

  Once we get home, we put Damien to bed and then head into our room. Despite the lateness of the day, I need a shower and walk into the bathroom with Jonas hot on my trail. He starts the water while I pull towels out from under the sink and then undress. My orbs are glued to his form as I get to feast my eyes on him as he disrobes. “C’mon, baby, let’s get cleaned up and then hit the hay. Been a long day and I know you’re tired.” My mouth waters and I’m completely distracted from his words, they take a few seconds to penetrate my brain.

  Well, I was tired, but seeing his delectable body in front of me has my lady parts singing a different tune. I sashay towards him and when I get close enough, I run my finger down the middle of his chest to right above his dick. “Need to do something about this first, don’t you think?” I tease as my hand lowers further and grips him.

  “I like shower sex, it’s my favorite,” he whispers before kissing me breathless.

  “All sex is your favorite,” I reply once I can breathe again.

  “This is true but having you in the shower, all slippery and wet, makes it that much more fun.” His hands are roaming over my body and I feel myself responding as he plays me like a fiddle. When his mouth lowers to my neck, I throw my head back and moan.

  As he nips and sucks, his hands find their preferred spots - one is rolling my nipple and the other is moving between my thighs. I shift my legs to give him access and cry out when one finger enters me. His strokes are soft and gentle, not enough to send me over the edge, just enough to ramp up my desire.

  I start stroking his dick in time to his finger thrust and am thrilled at his reaction. “Raven,” he hisses out. “You keep that up and I won’t last to get inside you.”

  “We can’t have that,” I reply before I turn in his arms and bend over the bench. It’s my favorite feature in this damn shower and we’ve had many pleasurable hours doing this very thing.

  “No, we can’t,” he states as he lines his dick up with my entrance and pushes inside. I love the slight burn I get when he enters me and throw my head back, moaning when he
bottoms out.

  “Faster, Jonas,” I encourage. His hands grip my hips and he begins powering into me so hard that I swear I see stars. When he adds a swivel each time he hits bottom, I feel my pussy start to spasm. “Jonas, I’m gonna come,” I moan.

  One hand slips in front of me and he starts stroking my clit. “I got you, beautiful,” he murmurs. “Come on my dick, Raven. Come now,” he commands. At his words, I shatter, keening out my pleasure as I feel him thrust several more times before he stills and I feel his release pour into me.

  Long moments pass as we both try to catch our breath before he pulls me up and gently washes first me and then himself, before shutting off the water and drying us off. He then scoops me up and carries me to our bed, laying me down before crawling in next to me.

  I curl close to him and sigh. “What was that for?” he asks.

  “I’m happy, Jonas. So, so happy,” I tell him.

  “Me too, beautiful.”

  “Jonas, I have something to tell you.”

  “What’s going on, Raven?”

  “I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a daddy, Jonas.” I’m a little worried because we’ve never discussed having kids together, but based on how he is with Damien, it’s a silly fear.

  * * *

  Jonas

  * * *

  “A baby. You’re not teasing me right?” I position us both to where we are looking at each other. “I’m a man on the edge here, beautiful. Please tell me that what you just said is what I really heard. You’re having my baby?”

  “I’m having our baby, Jonas. You have to share,” she teases me.

  “Maybe,” I say, but unlike her, I’m not joking. I mean every word. I’ve never been good at the whole sharing gig.