by J. A. Little
I know Dean likes it hard and fast. I know he likes to hear the slap of our wet skin. He likes to hear me moan and cry and whimper. But tonight he moves slowly and purposefully. His eyes roam my face as though he’s trying to memorize every freckle and fine line. I have no idea how long we go. It feels like forever, and it’s still not long enough. The build of my orgasm is intense, burning in all the right ways. The only time he speeds up is when neither one of us can prolong the inevitable. I hold him as close as I can, and we come together. I feel him pulsing inside of me while his hot breath fans over my ear.
“I’m ready, Kayla.”
“Ready for what?” I ask, my mind foggy with orgasmic euphoria.
“To be more. I want more. With you.” He’s still moving in and out of me slightly, but I’m beginning to get too sensitive. I put my hand on his hip to stop the gentle thrusting and push on him. He pulls out and rolls, staring at me. His expression is a mixture of anxiousness and hurt.
“What?” I ask, my mouth dropping open.
“Never mind. Forget it,” he rushes out. “I’ll be right back.”
He starts to get out of bed, but I’m not letting him run away. I heard exactly what he said. I just want to hear him say it again. I grab his wrist as firmly as I can to yank him backward, which ends up propelling me forward instead. I fall into him, and he catches me in his arms.
“Do you really want me to forget it?” I ask once I’ve stabilized myself.
He licks his lips and shakes his head. He looks so young and nervous right now.
“Come back to bed,” I whisper, pressing my lips against his. I tug him back. There’s no resistance this time as he follows. “Stop doubting yourself, Dean. Stop doubting us. I want more, too.”
Chapter 53
Kayla
Dean and I wake up the next morning much later than we should. I’m supposed to be in court at eight o’clock for a hearing, so Dean makes toast with peanut butter while I’m showering. He feeds it to me one bite at a time while I dress and rush around trying to find everything I need. I can’t seem to stop smiling. We move so easily around each other. It’s like we’ve been together for years.
We leave at the same time, and I kiss him quickly as I climb into my car. We drive in opposite directions, me toward the city, and him toward Wyatt House. He doesn’t even seem to go to his apartment anymore.
The room where social workers and attorneys meet to finalize and prepare court reports for presenting to the judges is like a fucking zoo. I spend my entire morning there, mostly just waiting.
When I get back to my office, Sara is talking about one of her new cases where the kids had to be physically pried away from their mother at the end of her visit.
“It was heartbreaking,” she sniffs. “Mom’s obviously an addict. The little one was hospitalized for getting into her stash. Not a good home situation, but it’s still hard to watch that kind of reaction. Sometimes I hate this job.”
By six o’clock, I’m dragging. I think I need food. Fortunately, when I get home, Andy has dinner ready.
“I love you,” I murmur. “Don’t be offended if I throw up, though, okay?”
“Why?” he asks, concerned.
“I’m so hungry, my stomach is all crampy,” I whine.
“Sit down and eat, please. You’re going to need it.”
I frown, thinking about where I’ll be in two very short hours.
“Why did you have to remind me? Now I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Shut up and eat. When’s Dean getting here?”
I shrug. “He had a crapload of meetings today. I haven’t heard much from him.”
Andy sits down and puts a piece of broccoli in his mouth. We eat in silence until I hear Dean’s car pull up. He knocks, but doesn’t wait for us to invite him in.
“Hey,” he greets, sitting down in the chair next to me and snagging a piece of steak from my plate.
“Hey. Get your own.”
He smirks and shakes his head. “No thanks. Ate before I left.”
“How was your day?”
“Shitty. Just came from my parents’ house. My dad’s pissed about Logan.”
“Which part?”
“All of it. He’s disappointed that Aiden and I didn’t catch what was going on. He’s been talking to the board about awarding scholarships to Brayden and Logan. Brayden got accepted to Minneapolis Community.” He’s not looking at me. I know something’s up.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Logan got an envelope from Dunwoody today.”
“And?”
“He got accepted.”
Andy lifts his head. “Really?”
Dean nods. I’m torn between feeling elated for him and feeling like someone just ripped the rug out from underneath me.
“What’d he say?”
“He tried to toss it. Said it didn’t matter anymore.”
I groan. “You didn’t let him, right?”
“Of course I didn’t. It’s in my office.”
“You know what? I can only handle one thing at a time. Let’s get through tonight, and then we can tackle the rest of this later.” Dean steals another piece of steak. “Seriously? There’s a whole other piece in the kitchen!”
“No, I’m good.”
He sits and waits for us to finish our dinner. He doesn’t try to steal anything else, which is good since I’m ready to stab him with my fork if he does. The closer the clock gets to eight o’clock, the more fidgety I become. I’m not ready to do this. I can only imagine how Claire and Logan feel.
“Do you think he’s gonna show up?” I ask Dean once we’re on the road.
“I would think that for Claire’s sake, he would. Who knows?”
The question is quickly answered when we pull up to The Carlyle and see Logan standing outside, leaning against his car. He doesn’t look that bad. He’s wearing a nice pair of jeans and a button up shirt.
“You ready?” I ask, approaching him.
“No,” he mutters, his hands shoved in his pockets.
“I don’t blame you. Just don’t do anything stupid, okay? This is going to be hard enough on Claire as it is.”
Walking inside, the guard greets me. “Would you like me to call up for you?” he asks, his eyes scanning both Dean and Logan hesitantly.
I shake my head. “No, thank you.” I smile and pull out my phone, texting Claire that we’re coming up. “See—just did it.” I flash him my phone, and he waves us through to the elevator.
With each floor the elevator passes, my heart rate seems to increase by ten beats per minute. I can only imagine how Logan is feeling. I turn to glance at him. He’s looking down at his feet, which are bouncing slightly, and mouthing words I can’t hear.
I wonder if this will be the last time I ride up this elevator; if Richard and my mother will kick me out for good this time. It’s possible. Somehow that doesn’t bother me. This place holds only bad memories; memories of feeling worthless, abandoned, and ignored. Feeling like I was a waste of space, nothing but trouble. I hate this place. I hate everything it represents.
I don’t walk right in this time. I knock.
“I’ll get it,” I hear Claire’s voice call from inside. The door flies open. She looks pale—like she’s going to pass out.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“No,” she squeaks. “I’m scared.” Her eyes dart to Logan, and I step aside. As much as I want to be the one to provide her comfort, they are in this together. She needs him to stand by her more than anything. I look away as she practically collapses into his arms. I’d give them privacy, but I still don’t trust them to not take off. After a minute, they release each other and she guides us in.
“Daddy’s not home yet.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing. We’ll start with Mom. Maybe she can help defuse the situation.”
Claire shakes her head. “I don’t think so. She usually makes him angrier.”
“What are you talking about?
” Claire’s expression does nothing to quell my sudden anxiety.
“Who was it?” my mother’s voice calls as we enter the living room. She’s sitting, watching the news with a glass of wine in her hands. Looking up, her brow furrows. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to help Claire.”
“Help Claire do what? Don’t try to tell me she has more schoolwork. I ran into Headmistress Iverson this afternoon at the hospital, and she said no more assignments are due.”
“Not homework, Mother,” I say formally.
“Then what?”
I look over at Claire. She’s holding Logan’s hand.
“Um, Mama. This is Logan,” she introduces nervously. My mother remains quiet, but her eyebrows rise dramatically. “He’s my boyfriend.”
“Excuse me?”
Claire bites her lip. I nod at her to continue.
“Um… My boyfriend. Logan.”
Logan steps forward. “Hi, Mrs. Graeme. It’s nice to meet you.” His arm stretches out, but my mom doesn’t move. She looks at it, looks up at him, then at Claire. Finally, she looks at me and Dean.
“I suggest you say what you came here to say and then leave,” she says coldly. “If my husband arrives home and finds you here… Well, I don’t recommend it.”
I don’t know what I expected, but I’d hoped my mother would be a little bit more open without Richard around. Guess I was wrong.
Claire sighs. “Mama, Logan and I have something to tell you.”
The front door slams loudly and heavy footsteps approach. Richard appears, but stops the second he sees us.
“What the hell is going on here?”
My mother stands up quickly. “Richard.”
“Who are you people, and what are you doing in my house?”
“Richard. This is Dean Wyatt. He runs The Wyatt House Group Home for Boys,” I say politely and professionally, almost like I’m talking to a client.
“And? What the hell is he doing in my house?” Richard looks Dean up and down. We’re a good ten feet away, but I can practically smell the disdain seeping from him.
“Sir, I’m here as acting guardian for Logan Davidson,” Dean says. Richard looks confused.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” my mom speaks up. “I think you all need to go home.”
“Who the fuck is Logan Davidson and what has he done that requires his guardian to show up unannounced to my private residence?” Richard spits.
Logan lets go of Claire’s hand and steps forward. “I’m Logan Davidson, sir,” he says. His voice is strong, and there’s a hint of agitation. I want to tell him to watch it, but I don’t think that would be helpful. Claire jumps to his side.
“Daddy,” she says softly. “Logan’s my boyfriend.”
Richard’s expression goes from confused to amused. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Is this some sort of…practical joke?”
“No, Richard, it’s not,” I reply, even though he wasn’t speaking to me.
“And how the hell does any of this involve you, Kayla?” he sneers. There’s really no point in hiding it now. He’ll eventually find out how I’m involved, who Logan is, and where he comes from. Might as well get it all out in the open.
“I’m his social worker,” I answer flatly. Richard glares at me, and then at Dean.
“I see.” He looks over at Logan. “You’re one of those trash kids with a druggie mother and an absentee father?”
Logan’s face hardens. “Yep. That’s exactly what I am.”
“No, you’re not,” Claire protests.
Logan shrugs. “He’s just callin’ it like he sees it, baby. He’s right. My mom’s a junkie, and I don’t even know who my dad is. They both threw me away. Kayla’s been more of a mother to me than anyone else.”
“That’s not much better,” Richard scoffs.
“Fuck you!” I snap.
“Kayla,” Dean puts his arm around my waist, trying to comfort me. “He’s trying to rile you up,” he whispers in my ear. “Don’t let him.”
“Oh.” Richard snorts loudly. “This is rich. The social worker and the guardian. Shouldn’t surprise me with the way Kayla gets around. Hope you’re using protection.” I grit my teeth. This fucker is about to get bitch-slapped. Dean holds me tighter, but I’ve had it.
“You know what, Dick?” I snarl. “I have spent over half my life dealing with your arrogant fucking bullshit. What kind of person tells an eleven-year-old she’s worthless? Or a fourteen-year-old virgin that she’s a useless slut? You’re no better than any of the parents I have to deal with on a regular basis. Insulting a child to make yourself feel better? You’re the one who broke up a marriage—a family. You’re the useless one.”
“Oh, don’t start this self-righteous shit, Kayla,” Richard yells. “You have been a pain in my ass from day one. I wanted your mother. If I’d known at the time that sleeping with her meant I’d end up with you, I would have thought twice. I called you worthless because that’s exactly what you are. You offer nothing to this world. You give hookers and drug pushers second chances to raise kids just like them.”
“Hey, man,” Dean chides. “You need to cool it. Try to have some respect.”
“Respect?” he barks. “For her? For you? Not likely. Nice tally,” he spits, gaze shifting down toward Dean’s hands. “How is someone who’s obviously been in prison allowed to mentor young boys, huh? I can’t imagine you have anything to offer them. Unless you’re teaching them to be thugs.”
Dean’s pissed—I can tell by the way his nostrils flare and his eyes darken. But he’s much better at holding himself back than I am.
“Shut the fuck up!” I scream.
“Get out!” Richard roars. “And take your trash with you.”
Claire steps forward and grabs Richard’s arm. “Daddy, stop. Please,” she begs. He shakes her off.
“You’re grounded, Claire. You will not see Kayla or anyone else I haven’t personally approved. Do you understand me?”
“Daddy,” she cries.
“Give me your phone.”
“Richard,” my mother finally speaks up.
“You stay out of this,” he commands. “I should have fucking known that your kid would end up corrupting mine. I never should have let her in this house.” He turns back to me. “I’m calling your administrator first thing in the morning to report your encouragement of…this.” He grimaces as he looks at Logan.
“I didn’t encourage anything,” I deny.
“You are still a lying little slut. I hoped someday you’d outgrow it,” he says condescendingly, “but apparently it’s a genetic trait.” His eyes flash behind me. I glance back and see my mother. She doesn’t meet my eyes. She just stares back at her husband.
Dean finally loses it. “Look, asshole,” he growls, stepping so close to Richard that he stumbles back a little. “This has gone far enough. Shut your fucking face and listen.” I’ve never seen Dean this angry. I’ve never seen him look so terrifying. Richard’s face loses a bit of color, but he doesn’t stand down.
“How dare you!” he yells. “You have the balls to come into my house and tell me what to do?”
Dean backs up again. By the way he’s clenching his fists, I’m pretty sure he’s attempting to keep himself under control. I’m not sure if it’s working, though.
“I’m pregnant!” Claire shouts, interrupting what I’m afraid is about to become a very violent encounter. My mother gasps. Richard stops moving and turns his head toward her slowly, his mouth completely agape.
“You’re what?” he asks, making a sound that I’m not sure I’ve ever heard come from a human being before.
“I’m pregnant,” she says again. This time her voice is much weaker. “Logan and I… We’re pregnant.” She’s visibly shaking. I look at Richard.
If I’d thought things were tense when Logan told me… That was nothing compared to this moment. Richard’s face is red and furious. I suddenly become aware that Claire is standing too c
lose to him.
“You stupid little cunt!” he bellows.
“Dean!” I screech. But it’s too late. I watch helplessly as Richard backhands Claire across the face with a closed fist. The force of the blow is so intense that she’s knocked to the ground. I don’t see what happens next. All I can focus on is my sister, lying on the ground gasping for air and wailing in pain. I run to her and cradle her in my arms.
“Oh my God.” I rock her back and forth as she cries.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, you bastard!” Logan roars. I look up to see Dean standing with his arms around an absolutely rabid Logan. The sheer amount of strength he must be using to keep Logan away from Richard is staggering. I have no doubt in my mind, though, that if he lets go, Richard will be beaten within an inch of his life. But if I weren’t already worried about the repercussions of this night, I’d probably be encouraging Dean to release him.
Richard is on the other side of Dean, swearing and threatening, but not getting too close. Logan’s size and fury are more than a match for him at the moment.
“Why aren’t you doing anything?” I scream at my mother. She’s just standing there like she’s checked out entirely. Claire curls her body into a sitting position, clutching her hands over her stomach.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so,” she hiccoughs. “Logan!” The moment he hears her calling, his focus changes. He shoves past Dean, and she’s in his arms.
“Get the fuck away from her before I call the police,” Richard shouts. “You!” He points a finger at Claire. “Get your ass to your room. You’ll come to work with me tomorrow and we’ll get this taken care of.” Claire’s widens her blue eyes and shakes her head furiously, tears welling up.
“No,” she whimpers.
“Fuck you, asshole!” Logan shouts. “You’re not touching her.”
I stand up to face my stepfather. I can see Dean out of the corner of my eye watching me like a hawk, preparing to jump if Richard tries something.
“I’m taking her with me,” I announce. Richard looks at me like I’m insane.
“She’s not going anywhere with you. You have no right to come into my home and fuck up my family.”