by K. Webster
“Mine.” His growl is fierce and intimidating. More frightening than any forest animal. “Mine.”
“No!” I screech and wiggle in his grasp.
His cock is hard and intrusive against my back. I hate it. I love it. I don’t want it. I do.
“Mine!”
“No!”
I’m shoved forward and I barely have a chance to steady myself with my hands before he’s shoving my dress up my hips. With a rip, he tears the fabric down the back and it falls to the dirt at my wrists. I scream and kick but he’s strong. Determined. Undaunted.
Another slice of pain steals my breath and my sanity. He takes this moment of weakness. Fucking takes it like it belongs to him. Like he owns every part of me. His cock rips through me as he brutally shoves his way inside. This isn’t rape like those bush people—because despite my screams of horror—I still want him. This is a hostile takeover. A reminder of who I belong to.
“I hate you!” I scream but I’ve stopped fighting. I fall to my shoulder with my ass up in the air.
“I fucking love you!” he roars, his hips slamming hard against my backside. “You can’t ever leave me! Ever!”
I sob and scream and curse him. Another painful explosion rips across my abdomen making me black out for a second.
“Mine, Devon! You’re mine, goddammit! I don’t give a shit about those papers!” He’s crying behind me. Furious but crying. “Y-You were mine the moment she handed you to me.” His voice cracks and his brutal grip on my hips lessen. He runs a gentle palm up my spine. “I don’t understand it but you burrowed your way in my heart at just two years old when we got you.”
We’re both crying and he’s fucking me slowly.
“Y-You l-let me b-believe s-something could b-be wrong w-with the b-baby,” I accuse, my words garbled and messy.
He fists my hair again and jerks me upright so that his hot breath is in my ear. Everything hurts but I need him like I need air. I hate him. I love him.
“Because I wanted to protect your goddamn heart. I knew it would fucking crush you, baby. Please understand that every single damn thing I have ever done has always been for you.” He twists his grip on my hair so that our mouths meet. With an intensity I never knew existed, he devours me with a claiming kiss. His cock is deep inside me, I’m turned at an uncomfortable angle, and everything hurts like hell. And yet I’m kissing him back just as hard.
“I hate you,” I sob.
Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.
“I hate you…”
“I love you, Pip.”
“I hate you…”
Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.
“I love you so goddamned much,” he breathes against my mouth.
“I hate you.” Another sob as pain so intense ripples through me. I’m going to die. Right here. Right now. On the floor of the forest with a dick deep inside me.
And he won’t know.
He won’t know those are lies.
“Daddy,” I choke out. “I love you.”
“I know, baby. I fucking know.”
The pain that sears through me has my insides contracting so hard I think I’ll puke. Behind me, Reed comes with a feral grunt.
“Fuck!”
He’s barely pulled out when a rush of warm heat gushes out with him. We’re both stunned and I start to collapse but he grips me.
“A-Are you fucking having the baby?!” He yanks up his jeans with his free hand.
I cry in response.
“Fuck! Shit! Oh, God!”
He scoops me into his strong arms and all I can do is shake uncontrollably. I never hated him. I’m so upset and confused but I could never hate him. He’s mine. We’re cosmic and untouchable together.
I’m so dazed as he runs through the forest. My eyes are half-lidded and swollen but I soon see a shack. He charges up to it and with a powerful kick, he blasts the door off and into the house.
A girl shrieks from the back but he doesn’t seem bothered. He lays me down on some blankets that are in front of the fireplace.
“Eve!” he roars. “Help!”
He kneels in front of me and urges my thighs apart. When he looks down between them, his eyes widen in horror.
“What?!” I demand, my voice shrill. Terror overcomes me and I try to look past my stomach to see.
“Lie back,” he orders, his tone abrupt. “The baby is coming. Just lie the fuck back, Devon.”
A small girl stares at me in shock. Her wild brown hair is a mess and her eyes are wide. He barks out orders to her. Water. Towels. All sorts of things. He mentions the cabin. I lose sense of reality as another wave of pain crashes into me. The girl bolts.
“I-I can’t d-do this,” I choke out. “I’m going t-to die.”
He glares at me. “The fuck you will. You’re going to have this damn baby right now and you’re going to be okay. I’m going to see if I can feel the head.”
My eyes roll back when he begins pushing his thick fingers inside me. Immediately, he jerks them out and shudders.
“What?”
“The baby is breech.”
Panicked, I let out a scream. “You have to turn the baby before it’s too late!”
Sweat pours down his temples and his eyes dart all around as if he’s coming up with a plan.
“Lie back and try to relax,” he barks.
I do as I’m told and ignore the excruciating pain as he begins working his fingers and then hand inside me. Slurping sounds can be heard as he moves it deeper inside me. He uses his free hand to push on my belly. The pain is too much.
“I need you to push right there,” he grunts, his eyes manic. “We can do this but I need your help.”
I gag as I press on my upper stomach on the right. Everything shifts inside me and I let out another scream. Another contraction rips through me as he pulls his arm back out.
I turn my head to the side and expel my dinner. The pain is too much to bear. His hands are all over my face assessing me and then he’s back between my thighs. My energy is depleted and I feel overwhelmed. As though I truly will die on this floor. I just hope our baby lives.
“You have to stay strong, Pip,” he chokes out, clutching my knee. “Stay with me. Focus. I can’t get this baby out of you. You’re going to have to do that all on your own. Would it help to get on your knees?”
I cry until another contraction steals my breath. Tears roll down my temples. I don’t know what to do. I just want the pain gone. I want the baby out of me. I want to…
Push.
The urge is unlike any other feeling in the world.
It becomes my only thought.
Push.
I grip my knees and bear down, a guttural sound ripping from my chest. My eyes are closed but I can hear Dad praising me. The urge passes and I fall limp.
“You’re doing well,” he assures me. “Next time the pain hits, do that again.”
We don’t have to wait long.
The pain explodes through me again.
I bear down and keep my eyes on him. His eyes are looking down. When his face lights up, I gape at him in shock.
“I can see the head! We fucking did it! Baby, I can see the hair! Dark like me,” he bellows.
I start laughing or sobbing, I’m not sure which, but I’m happy. Knowing the baby is so close—that it will look like him maybe—has me more determined than ever.
Over and over again.
I push and push.
“Oh, God,” I scream. “It hurts!”
“I know, sweetheart. You’re doing so well. Just keep going.”
The next push, I feel some relief and Dad’s eyes are wide.
“Holy fuck! The head’s out. Jesus, Devon, the head’s out!”
I don’t have time to recover because another painful contraction tears through me. I bear down. Over and over until relief like I’ve never known slides out of me and into the arms of my father.
I black out.
For a moment.
But then my eyes ar
e wide.
“It’s not crying!” I shriek. “Why isn’t it crying?!”
Dad’s face is twisted up as he panics. He holds the limp baby in his arms and I sob at seeing it.
“Fuck!” he cries out. “Cry! Why the hell isn’t he crying?!” Fat tears roll down my dad’s face.
He?
“It’s a boy?” I question, a sob caught in my throat.
He nods. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What do we do?”
“I don’t know!”
He grabs our son by the ankles and turns him upside down. I’m horrified by how brutal he’s being. Then, not so gently, he spanks the infant’s small bottom. I’m about to scream at my father when I hear it.
Choked at first.
Then louder.
His lungs. They’re powerful.
“He’s crying!” I exclaim. “Oh my God, he’s crying!”
He cradles the baby in his hands and passes him to me. My arms protectively wrap around the child as I pull him to my chest. He’s perfect. Dark hair, long skinny body. Perfect.
Mine.
Oh, God, he’s mine.
I lie there crying in joy for what feels like forever. The baby is sticky and bloody pressed against me. He won’t stop crying but I take this as good news. The umbilical cord is still attached to him and somewhere inside me.
Another smaller pain ripples through me. “I think the placenta is coming out.”
Dad’s face is frantic as he does his best to give birth to the placenta. It comes out easily. I’m shivering, my teeth chattering, when Eve runs back into the house, her arms full and a backpack slung over her shoulder. She brings me a towel and I wrap it around my son.
Blackness clouds my vision and I pass out.
* * *
* * *
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Her eyes roll back in her head and I panic. “Baby! Wake up!”
She blinks her eyes open slowly. “I’m so exhausted.”
Relief rushes through me. “Other than that, you feel okay?”
Her nod is slight.
“Go to sleep then. I’ll take care of you.”
The moment she passes out, I grab my knife and cut the umbilical cord. It hangs like a gnarly snake but I just need to clean her up. With careful movements, I scoop our son from her chest and wrap him in the towel. He kicks and squawks. I almost cry when I realize he has her nose. With a quick kiss to it, I smooth out his sticky hair and hold him up to a wide-eyed Eve.
“Can you hold him so I can take care of her?”
Trust is not something I hand over well, but she did just run at full speed to help me. She looks terrified, not evil. Her features soften and she nods. Kid isn’t much of a talker. I hand over the baby and she cradles him. My attention is back on my heart, my love, my motherfucking soul.
She’s a mess.
I fucked her and she was in goddamn labor.
I’m disgusted with myself.
And yet, I know it had to be done.
She needed to be claimed and stamped and owned.
Mine.
Fucking mine.
The moment I woke up and discovered she was gone, I flipped my shit. The papers all over the table meant that she’d found my dark secret. A secret I worked so hard to keep from her.
She’s my daughter.
The moment I held her, I knew.
I knew the moment she found out, if ever, she’d feel betrayed. But I told her. Fucking told her that I keep stuff from her if it meant keeping her heart safe. This was a secret that would destroy her. I just couldn’t do it. Even when she was sick to fucking death worried over incest related problems, I couldn’t tell her. This secret was worse than a little fear over birth defects. This secret had the potential to destroy her.
On autopilot, I boil some water and grab the first aid kit. Carefully, I wash Devon from head to toe. Her pussy is swollen and red. There is a small tear that I’m afraid needs to be stitched. I hate that she lies there, completely passed out, with her legs hung open. But at the same time, I need to take care of her without her moving. It takes some time but I manage to stitch her up and spread ointment over the parts of her pussy that look like they might hurt. Once she’s clean and tended to, I cover her with a blanket Eve brought from the house.
My son cries and squirms. Eve seems terrified and gladly hands him back to me. I sit on the floor and lay him on a folded towel. The chilly air seems to piss him off and his screams get louder. Quickly, I wash our precious child. Everything about him is perfect. And his lungs are powerful. He reminds me of Drew by the way he hollers.
“You’re a rowdy one, aren’t you?” I coo as I wrap him tightly in a blanket.
His fist flies free and he suckles on it. I walk on my knees with him in my arms over to where Devon sleeps. It takes some maneuvering, but I manage to nestle him against her. His mouth opens as he searches for her breast. I cradle his tiny body in a way that soon has him latching on. His cries are silenced as he greedily sucks on her nipple. With tears in my eyes, I regard Eve with a grin.
“My family.”
She smiles back. “Beautiful.”
Eve lingers in the doorway of our cabin with my son wrapped tightly in her arms as I lower Devon into our bed. Once she’s covered, I turn to accept my baby. It’s been close to three hours since Devon passed out. I knew we had more to work with here so Eve dutifully followed behind me as I carried my love back home. I’m grateful to Eve in a way I can’t explain. Without her, this would have been nearly impossible.
Once I settle my sleeping son onto the bed beside Devon, I turn to regard Eve. She lets out a squeak when I jerk her into my arms and hug her.
“Thank you.”
Her body is tense but she doesn’t fight against my embrace. When I pull away, she holds out her hand. “Fruit.”
Smirking, I stroll over to a box with our canned goods. The girl is too tiny to carry it so I find the backpack and fill it with fruit cans. It’ll be hard for her to get it back to the shack but she’s fierce. I have no doubt she’ll manage.
“If you see Buddy, will you bring him back?” I ask.
She nods as she shoulders the backpack.
That fucking dog bolted when I turned into an animal and brutally fucked Devon. I think I scared the shit out of him. He’s yet to return.
“Come visit us,” I call out to Eve. “Anytime.”
Another nod.
Then she’s gone.
I wake to a suckling sound. My back and neck are killing me. Sleeping in the chair beside the bed was a bad idea but I wanted to watch over my family.
And they are my family.
Devon is more than daughter and wife and friend.
She’s laughter and life and love.
I’m grateful for the day that sixteen-year-old girl, Abigail, agreed to adopt out her twins. She had struggled for nearly two years with trying to care for them. Having a baby at fourteen would be hard on anyone. This girl simply couldn’t take it. Sabrina and I were thrilled because it meant we could finally be parents.
My eyes drift over to Devon as she nurses our son. Her eyes are soft as she watches in awe. He’s beautiful. I love them both so fucking much.
Perfect.
With a smile on my lips, I think back to the day Abigail handed over the twins.
“Devon is the good baby,” Abigail says, almost fussing over the toddler. “Sleeps well. It’s that rowdy one over there you have to watch.”
Tears well in her eyes and she lets out a choked sob.
Sabrina flashes me a worried look. Nothing feels real about this adoption. Not until we’re at home with them will it really sink in.
“We’ll take care of them,” I vow, taking the young girl’s hand.
“It’s for the best, angel,” Abigail’s mom Patricia murmurs. “I can barely afford to feed the child I have, much less two more. Not after the divorce, especially.”
Abigail stiffens. “I know, Ma.” Then her blue eyes that sparkle like two lakes meet mi
ne. “Can I talk to you for a second? About the babies.”
Her mother stiffens but nods her approval to give us some alone time. Sabrina and Patricia start discussing feeding routines while I slip onto the front porch with Abigail.
“What’s wrong?”
“Promise me you won’t change your mind?”
I gape at her as if she’s lost her marbles. “I swear.”
She swallows before throwing her arms around me in a tight hug. I can’t help but embrace the sweet, sad girl in my arms. She smells like apples and innocence. I kiss her soft blonde head because it feels right.
“What is it?”
Her words are whispered but I hear them. My heart cracks open in my chest. The secret is one too deep and dark for anyone but the two of us to know.
“It was Daddy.”
I swallow and stroke this poor teenage girl’s hair. “What was Daddy?”
She shudders and nearly collapses but I keep her from falling. “H-He used to come into my room when he’d b-been drinking too much. I didn’t want it but it happened…”
“I’m so sorry.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not. There is nothing wrong with them. They deserve to be loved. But not here…”
Her head tilts up and fire blazes in her eyes. “I need to get away. To escape. I can’t do that with them. Ma has blinders on. Daddy left us not long after I got pregnant. I lied to Ma. Said it was a boy from school. If she knew…”
“I won’t tell a soul,” I vow. That promise burns deep inside my heart.
“Thank you. They’re smart babies. Sweet and interactive. I just want them to be loved. I’m afraid I can’t give them what they deserve.”
“I’ll love them as though they are my own.”
“Thank you.”
“I think you should go to the police though and report him,” I say softly.
She pulls away and lifts her chin. “No. I don’t want anyone to ever know or to have an inkling. Please.”
With sadness in my heart and for the future of those two babies, I nod in agreement.