by B. B. Hamel
My mom is out the door already. I scream as I go down and Jaxson groans, blood running down his face. His eyes are wide and there’s a shard of glass stuck in his scalp as he crawls toward me.
I scream and kick at him. The gun fell out of his hand, and it’s halfway across the room. I know I can’t get to it in time. I kick again, connecting with his nose, making him groan.
But he grabs my ankle again, not letting me go. His grip is ice and iron. He pulls, coming closer as he crawls like a slug, making this horrifying groaning noise.
“Cora,” he grunts. “I’ll choke you, bitch.”
I scream again and kick. It connects solidly again, and this time his grip loosens. I shake him off and scramble away on my hands and knees. When I make it over to the broken door, I get to my feet and start running.
I keep running until someone grabs me. I don’t know who it is and my instinct is to fight, fight and scream, but he’s holding me tight, saying my name over and over.
It takes me a second before I realize that it’s Wyatt. “Cora, it’s okay,” he says. “It’s me. What’s happening?”
I look around. I’m down in the parking lot. Wyatt’s looking at me like I’m insane. My mom’s nowhere to be seen.
“Jaxson,” I say finally. “In my mom’s room.”
His face goes serious. “Stay here.” He strides away, moving into a jog. He heads up the front stairs and onto the balcony.
I can see the room with the door kicked open. Wyatt approaches it a little cautiously. He slowly looks inside, but pulls back as three loud cracks break the stillness.
I recognize the gunshots for what they are. They’re so much louder than I thought they’d be. I fall down to the ground, but I can’t stop watching Wyatt. He drops backward, flat against the wall. He yells something, but it’s lost in the gunfire.
He falls back. I watch him open his room’s door and step inside just as Jaxson emerges from my mom’s room. Jaxson looks around, bleeding and clearly dazed. He stumbles down the ramp, toward the stairwell.
Wyatt comes out of his room and yells after him. Jaxson doesn’t hesitate. He fires at Wyatt, forcing Wyatt back into his room. Jaxson stumbles away again, down into the parking lot, and I want to scream.
I’m so afraid he’ll find me. He’s going to kill me if he does, and I’m just crouching down in the parking lot, hands over my ears, eyes wide, tears stinging my cheeks.
But Jaxson doesn’t even look for me. He jumps into an old beat-up green sedan and it peels out, driving away from the motel. I catch sight of a second person in the car, but I don’t recognize whoever it is. I don’t get a good look as the car speeds out into traffic and disappears.
Wyatt appears seconds later. “Are you okay?” His voice comes through muffled and distant.
He pulls me to my feet, arms wrapped around me as I sob into his chest. “She saved us,” I say.
“Who?”
“My mom. She hit him with her bottle.”
“It’ll be okay,” he says, but his voice is flat and expressionless.
I press myself harder against him, still shaking, fear flowing through me. But he’s here now, and he’s going to keep me safe. It’s going to be okay. It has to be okay.
22
Cora
I stare at the gun on the bedside table and I keep seeing Jaxson as he kicks open the door. The splinters hit the carpet and I’m so afraid I can’t move.
Without my mom, I’d be dead. She saved my life. We don’t know where she is right now, but Mitch has his boys out looking for her. Jaxson’s out there somewhere too, and they’re trying to hunt him down.
For now though, I’m with Wyatt. He comes out of the bathroom and frowns at me, following my gaze.
“Ah,” he says. “That.” He walks over and picks up the gun. “Just a little present from our friend Reggie.”
I’m not sure what he means but I’m not sure I want to know. “Oh, okay,” I say.
He slips the gun into a drawer then sits down next to me. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
I nod and lean up against him. “I’m okay. Just afraid for my mom.”
“She’s fine. I bet she’s just holed up in some bar right now, hiding out with a good glass of wine.”
I can’t help but smile at that. I know it’s not great to imagine my mom drinking, but at least I’m picturing her alive, instead of with Jaxson standing over her. I doubt she has a “good” glass of wine, though.
He puts his arms around me and pulls me close. We have a quiet moment, and I try to concentrate on the sound of his breathing instead of the horrible film that keeps playing through my mind. I feel like some part of me is broken, or dirty, or both, but I know that’s just in my head.
“What happened,” he starts saying, and then stops. He takes a deep breath. “What happened should never have happened.”
I move back slightly and look up at him. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was,” he says simply. “I knew we were in danger, and I still left to see an old friend.”
“You couldn’t have known,” I whisper. By now I heard all about what went down with Reggie.
“I should have.” I can see the anger flare up. “It was too easy, too simple. I should’ve known nothing’s simple around here. I mean, having me come pick up him and drive into the reserve?”
“Wyatt,” I say, and I pull his chin toward me. “You couldn’t have known.”
His expression kills me. It’s anger and sadness and desire all mixed up into one. “I left you alone, and you almost got killed.”
“But we didn’t. You came back in time.”
“Barely. Your mom saved your life. Now she’s missing, Jaxson’s still out there, and you had to go through that.”
I pull his face toward mine, and I kiss him. I don’t know why I do it, but it feels right. He kisses me back with a sharp intake of breath as I move closer to him, and my desire flares through me. I didn’t know I could feel this right now, or really I didn’t think I could feel anything at all. But my need for him suddenly trumps any of the fear, the sadness, and the pain. I don’t feel right, I feel far from right, but at least this kiss makes me feel more whole.
He pulls me tight against him and I move over, shifting my hips and straddling him. He pulls me tight, kissing me hard, and I pull off my shirt. He kisses my chest, his lips lingering on my neck as I unhook my bra and toss it aside.
We’re moving fast now. I don’t have time to think about anything but the here and now, what I’m doing with him right in this moment. I don’t want to think about anything else.
Truth is, I haven’t felt good in a long time. It was even before Atticus died that I started feeling bland, like the life was slowly leaking from me. My daily grind brought nothing new or exciting or happy into my life and slowly but surely, it was all being sucked away.
But now I have Wyatt. He’s injecting so much into my world, making me feel things I thought I had forgotten about. His touch, his kiss, it’s all I need and all I want right now.
His hands cup my breasts and tease my nipples as I kiss him hard. I run my fingers through this thick hair, heedless of anything else going on around me. He pulls me tight, his hands on my ass, kissing me deep. His taste floods me and I’m reeling with him.
He turns and rolls me onto my back, pinning me down on the bed. He pulls his shirt off and presses me down, kissing me hard, tongue in my mouth. His hands slide down my hips and unbutton my jeans, tugging them down over my ass. He pushes my panties aside and, tongue in my mouth, his fingers press inside of me.
I gasp and dig my fingers into his back. He smirks at me, kissing my neck, fingers teasing my pussy. I can feel my heat rising, hotter and hotter as his fingers do their work
“You know why I didn’t leave?” he asks me, deep and low in my ear.
“Why?”
“Because of you.” He pulls back, meeting my eyes. “I couldn’t leave you.”
I bite my lip and squirm as he grins an
d presses his fingers inside of me.
“Why not?” I moan.
“Because of this.” He pulls his fingers out from inside of me and puts them in his mouth. “I love your taste, the way you moan, fuck, everything about you.”
He drops down onto the floor and his mouth finds my inner thigh. I groan loudly as he tugs my panties off, tossing them aside. He starts to suck and lick my clit, teasing my pussy, tongue rolling around me.
I grip onto his hair, holding him tight, moving my hips along with his mouth. I feel so in sync with him that I can barely contain myself. It’s overwhelming as pleasure rocks through my spine, rolling up along my skin, spreading out along my body.
Everything disappears. I’m like a pinprick in space, a floating spot of light and pleasure as he keeps licking me, sucking me, pushing me. I roll my hips faster and he sucks me harder, tongue sliding inside and back up along my clit.
I gasp as he reaches up with one hand and teases my breast, tongue buried deep inside of me. I can feel his name on my lips, begging to escape, but I hold it back.
He pulls away, smirking at me, and grabs my hip. He rolls me onto my stomach and slaps my ass, nice and hard.
“I stayed because of this.” He slaps my ass again and I gasp, digging my hands into the covers. “Because I couldn’t leave this alone, not for a single fucking week.”
He grabs my hips again and pulls me up onto my knees. I look back at him as he pulls his jeans off, revealing his thick cock. He slowly strokes himself with one hand and pulls me back toward him roughly.
I groan as he presses himself against me. Slowly he plunges his cock into my pussy, and I have to grip the comforter again as he slides in deep. I groan loudly, looking over my shoulder at him, and he just smirks. It drives me insane, and he slowly starts to fuck me faster, hands on my hips.
I work back against him, sliding along his thick cock. He grabs my hair, tugging it back, whispering in my ear.
“I couldn’t leave this pussy unfucked,” he says softly. “I couldn’t let you go a single day without my big cock fucking you until you scream.”
I feel it bubbling to the surface. He pushes me forward, slapping my ass hard, grabbing my hair and fucking me rough. That’s when I say it, when I say his name over and over again, his cock slamming into me, fucking me deep and hard.
He’s so big, so muscular, he can rip me into tiny pieces if he wants. Instead, he fucks me right, slaps my ass, big cock slamming into me, making me work for it. I move back along him, bucking my ass, tossing my hair to one side as I look over my shoulder at him.
He just smirks at me, his ripped body tense. I can feel sweat rolling down my skin as he works me, pleasure flooding me from every direction. I feel totally mindless, absolutely devastated by his cock, but loving every single inch of it.
He slides out, making me gasp, and rolls me back over. He spreads my legs wide and pushes himself inside of me. His hands cup my breasts as he fucks me and I lean forward, kissing him as he roughly grinds his cock into my pussy.
He fucks me like that, legs spread wide, mouth against my own. It feels so fucking good to have him deep between my legs. He grinds into me, fucking me hard, making me moan, making me say his name.
But I need to come. I push him back with both hands and he grins at me. I tug him into the bed and I push him down. I straddle him, sliding my ass down along his cock, taking him into my pussy. He grabs my hips as I ride him. I hold onto the headboard and use every single muscle in my body to fuck his big cock, riding him as hard as I can.
He takes a nipple between his teeth as he slaps my ass, squeezing it and working it. He thrusts up into me and I’m sweating, working, pleasure rocking along my skin, moans coming loud and even and unashamed. He grins at me, eyes wide with passion, and I know I’m so close. I buck back and up, riding him harder and harder, slamming down along his shaft.
The orgasm hits me out of nowhere. It begins in my spine and rolls up along the base of my skull, tingling pleasure, just before the explosion happens. I come hard, my whole body twitching as he keeps fucking me. He sits up, pulling me close, slamming his cock into my tight pussy again and again, making me moan through my orgasm.
I hear him grunt my name, almost from a distance, but I feel him come inside of me. He comes hard, filling me up, making me gasp. It’s one of the most satisfying things I’ve ever felt in my life, feeling his hot cum fill my pussy up. I can’t stop moving my hips, working every single ounce from him, milking his big cock.
Slowly we both finish, and I collapse onto the bed next to him. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me tight against hm.
“I mean it,” he whispers in my ear. “I stayed for you. I’ll help with Atticus, but you’re the one I really want.”
That puts a smile on my face that I can’t get rid of for the rest of the night. We talk and watch old movies and the painful memory of earlier in the day slowly fades away. I still feel anxious about my mother, wondering where she is and if she’s okay, but somehow the bite’s taken out of it.
That’s what Wyatt can do for me, I realize. He can take what’s horrible and somehow make it slightly less bad. He’s the only person in my life that can do that, and I don’t want him to leave me.
23
Wyatt
Cora insisted on coming.
I tried to talk her out of it. Nothing good will come of her being there, and she might hear some things that will make her upset. I don’t want to make what happened to her any worse.
I hate myself for what happened. I hate myself for letting Jaxson get so close to her. I’m going to catch that fucking scumbag, and I’m going to make sure he rots in prison. I know he killed Atticus, I believe it beyond the shadow of a doubt, and all I need to do is get my hands on him. I know I can make him confess, just given the opportunity.
That rat got away though. Now our only lead is Reggie, and Mitch was good enough to agree to let me talk to him.
“Just try not to let him get to you,” I say to Cora as we approach the station.
She shrugs. “I’ll be okay.”
“You won’t be in the room, just watching through the mirror. But he might say some things you won’t like.”
“I’ll be strong.”
I grin at her. “Good.” I pull her against me and briefly kiss her lips before letting her go. “It’s game time.”
We walk together through the front doors. Mitch meets us out front, looking somber.
“How are you guys holding up?” he asks.
“We’re good,” I say.
“I’m sorry about what happened to you,” he says to Cora. “To both of you.”
“We’re okay,” she says. “Just anxious to get some answers.”
He nods and motions for us to follow. “We all are,” he says. “I wish I had talked to you sooner, Wyatt. Reggie took a turn for the worse after school, fell in with a bunch of rough guys, turned into a real bastard.”
“He got huge, too,” I say.
Mitch chuckles. “Yeah, that helped him.”
“I have to admit,” I say softly. “I never would have pegged Reggie as the type.”
We move through the back halls of the station. People don’t look at us twice, and I know Mitch is doing this as a favor. His superiors probably don’t even know, and everyone’s pretending like they don’t see us.
He stops outside of an interrogation room. The door’s marked as “INTERROGATION 2” with another, unmarked door a few feet further on.
“He wasn’t,” Mitch says. “But then his dad died, and his mom died not long later, and I think he just turned to drugs. Plus, he got big, and people started to respect him in a way they never did before.”
“That can go to a guy’s head,” I say, nodding.
Cora makes a face. “Are you two really making excuses for him?”
“Not at all,” I say, turning to her. “But it’s better to understand who you’re talking to before going in.”
“Right,” Mitch says. “I
nterrogation techniques all say you should try and get inside the head of your subject. Got to know him if you’re going to do that.”
I nod at Mitch. He appears to know what he’s talking about, which surprises me. I pegged him for just another small-town uniformed lifer, but maybe he’s smarter than that.
“It’ll be okay,” I say to Cora. “Just trust me, okay?”
“Okay,” she says.
“You’re down this way,” Mitch says, leading Cora to the next door. “Just go in, don’t turn on the light, and don’t make a sound. Got it?”
“Got it,” she says.
Mitch opens the door and she shoots me a look before stepping inside. He shuts the door softly behind her.
I stretch a little, rolling my neck. “Ready?” I ask him.
“Ready,” he says.
I’m about to walk in, but before I do, I turn and head back over to a nearby desk. I grab a stack of papers and shove them into a blank manila folder before nodding at Mitch. He grins at me but doesn’t say anything. This is the oldest trick in the book, but it often works.
Mitch opens the door and we step inside. Reggie’s in there already, chained to the table, wearing a brown jumpsuit. He looks up as we come in and he grins at me.
“Hey, Wyatt,” he says. “How’s it going?”
I don’t react. I sit down across from him and I put the folder down between us. His eyes flick toward it and back to me, but I don’t smile. I know that the folder’s empty, but he thinks we have a whole stack of papers on him, and that’ll make him uneasy.
Mitch leans up against the wall behind me, crossing his arms. Cora’s watching us through the mirror on the far wall, but I put that out of my mind.
“The way I see it, you don’t have a lot of options here,” I say to Reggie finally.
“How’s that, bud?” he asks, grinning.
“You tried to kill a police officer.” I open the folder and look at a blank paper. “Far as I can tell, that’ll put you on death row.” I close the folder and look at Mitch. “Isn’t that right?”