Accidental Hero_A Marriage Mistake Romance

by Nicole Snow

  I do. My last, best shot at ending Jackson quick and easy.

  “Please, dear, let the man decide for himself!” Mrs. Kelley's voice takes on a sudden tension. It catches our full attention.

  Red squeezes my hand, like she knows a volcano is about to go off. I smile, baring my teeth. “It's January. Not a whole hell of a lot to do around this town when it's fifteen below. You name a time, Mrs. Kelley, and I'll see what I can do.”

  “Time for what?” An older, gruffer male voice speaks from behind the kitchen counter.

  My eyes follow everybody else's to the thin sixty-something year old adjusting his spectacles. Clearly Sadie's old man.

  “Oh, Peter, good news. I've found my muse again. Sit down, before you swallow your own tongue. He's here to help me, believe it or not.”

  Red's grip on my hand becomes a vice. She mouths her next few words: Jesus. This is bad.

  “What the hell is he doing here, Stephanie?” Peter steps closer, giving Red the evil eye.

  It's my turn to stand. I've got to try and diffuse a clusterfuck for once, instead of setting it off.

  “Dropped your son's truck off. You're welcome. We'll be showing ourselves the door.”

  “Oh, Peter, give him a chance! He's not here to light the house on fire or anything.” Mrs. Kelley stands. Laying her hands on her husband's shoulders, she tries to smother the look of a man facing an intruder. “I want to paint him and his darling little girl. Don't make this difficult.”

  “Paint him? In this house?” Peter faces Sadie again, his eyes darkening. He sees Mia, and I think it's the only reason he doesn't explode. “Did you put her up to this, Sadie?”

  “Dad, calm down. I didn't do anything!” Red raises her hands, stretching them between us. “All her idea. Marshal's a good man, believe it or not. I say we let her.”

  Her father's stare intensifies. So cold, cruel, bewildered, and fixed on her. You can't be fucking serious is written all over him.

  “Has anyone even thought what Jackson will think?” he says.

  “Yeah, I have.” I steal her old man's gaze. “I'll keep out of his way. What happened with us years ago is ancient history. I'll help your wife make art. I'm doing this for my little girl, and Sadie, too.”

  A total lie. Several, probably. But it's also the one choice phrase that might let us walk out of here whole.

  “I'll call later, dad. We'll talk then. Right now, we've got to go,” Sadie whispers in my ear, tugging on my shirt.

  Finally a wise idea. I walk over to the table, grab Mia, and brush past Mrs. Kelley. She gives my shoulder a quick pat on the way out, dumping gasoline on the raging fire in this house. “I'll let Sadie give you the best times for my studio. It's nice to have something to look forward to again.”

  Resisting the urge to cringe, we keep moving. Nothing matters more than getting the hell out of here, leaving the flaming wreckage behind.

  “Christ, Marshal. You're really willing to sit there while she paints you? How will you get Mia to sit still for so long?” I'm crunched up in the passenger seat in her old Toyota. Feels more out of place than ever being blasted by her questions.

  “We'll work it out, Red. Quit your worries. Mia's excited – aren't you, honeybee?” I look at my dozing daughter in the mirror.

  She opens one little eye and nods vigorously, before passing out in the kiddie seat again. Who the hell can blame her? The tension we left behind was so thick it could choke a man. Takes its toll on a mind. So does the winter cold, newly sprinkled with a slow-moving, wispy snowfall.

  We're leaving town, winding toward the bluffs as she drives.

  “Why did you do this? Really, I mean? Won't it interfere with work? And, Jesus, the drama!” She brakes hard at the stop sign, just a few miles from the overgrown road winding into my place.

  “Why're you flipping out when a man finally does you a favor, Red?” I watch her blink. “You told me your ma's not all there. She lost her marbles struggling with her muse or whatever, yeah?”

  Slowly, Red nods. “Not your problem. You're paying me to look after Mia, remember? I don't need you fixing my family issues.”

  “Didn't pay you for last night either,” I growl, reaching for her hand. “That was you and me. Not boss and nanny. Something else.”

  “That was...” She pauses, leaving me to wonder if it's mistake at the tip of her tongue. “That was different. You and me, I mean. Nobody else to worry about with any of that. This is my mother, Marshal. My very screwed up, sometimes very scary mother.”

  She shakes her head, bringing the car down the home stretch. I wait until we're parked. Then I reach over, cup her chin, and guide her face to mine. “Quiet. Just let me fucking help without making it so hard, beautiful.”

  I glance at Mia. She's still fast asleep. I lean in, whispering the next part in Sadie's reddening ear. “You want to make this an even trade? Fine. Give me another taste of last night.”

  There's no time to answer. My lips attack hers. Then they don't stop.

  Thank fuck, too. Guilt and lies are no match for drowning in her sweetness. My dick throbs, angrier than usual, ready as hell to be in her.

  Truth be told, I don't know what kind of mess I've just stepped in.

  I'm not sure it even matters. I've got everything I could ever want in front of me. Today, I see the illusion of a perfect world.

  If it weren't for the hit job breathing down my neck, I might be able to pretend I have a family.

  January goes from white to red. It's cold, rage, frustration. Numbing days burn into long hard nights of fucking.

  Red shares my bed now. I'm worried we'll slip up and Mia will wonder why we're sleeping in the same room, but it's not enough to stop taking her over the edge night after blistering night.

  The need in my balls won't let me quit.

  The animal ache on my lips every second they're not fused to hers is ready for tough questions. They'd rather speak to a thousand innocent concerns from honeybee than go one day without tasting this woman I've claimed.

  She's getting more adventurous by the week. Some nights Red spends nearly an hour on her knees, my dick in her mouth, learning every nook and cranny of my bliss. I've lost my come in her mouth a few times.

  It's heaven when it happens, but the aftermath is hell. I can't ignore that demon urge in the back of my mind that always wants to bust inside her, shoot my fire up her womb until she's mine, mine, so fucking mine.

  Yes, she's on the pill. Good thing, too, or I'm not sure I'd ask what the fuck is going on. I'm not sure the sadistic beast inside me would care.

  I'm no shrink, but I know what it's like when a man's subconscious gets obsessed with knocking pussy up.

  Adam had that glint in his eye every time he talked about fucking Bev. He only had a chance to put one baby in her, sad to say, and remembering his mortality dials this demented need to fuck my nanny raw up to eleven.

  The days are more tolerable. Work keeps my mind off sex and murder, but those ghosts in my ear are getting louder.

  You said you'd do it, asshole. Make us proud. It's Zane's voice every time, his dead grey eyes hollowing out my soul. Tony can't even walk straight. Least you can do is let my kid brother know I didn't die for nothing.

  Focus, douchebag. Focus, focus, focus. You can't let the asshole who melted my face keep breathing forever. Oh, and you'd better send my ma a card. Erik had a high school quarterback's good looks. Think that boy would've played the field forever back home in California if he hadn't gotten murdered.

  Do it, Captain. For Bev. For Mikey. For me. You promised my family justice.

  Yes, I did. Goddammit, I did, Adam, and no nighttime bliss I find with your killer's sis will ever let me forget.

  It's just, the right opportunity hasn't shown up yet. Sadie keeps asking why I haven't gone on that big job out of town yet. I tell her it's delayed.

  Even the cover story doesn't seem right anymore, and I have zilch in the blueprints department. Even the infrequent trips I
make to the Kelley place with Mia and Red doesn't inspire any grand ideas.

  Weeks go by, and I'm no closer to learning anything new about Jackson. No secret vulnerabilities or silver bullets lying around, ready.

  We sit like statues upstairs while the old lady paints us. She's more animated than ever, moving like a woman possessed. Red says she's never seen her mother work so hard without a meltdown in years.

  The first finished sketch in charcoal seems like a beauty. I'm a huge, dark shadow holding onto a sunbeam smiling in my arms. The imaginary puppy is a strange touch, a teacup poodle peeking out of my other hand.

  I wish Mrs. Kelley would just call it there. But, of course, insanity always goes hand-in-hand with perfectionism.

  We're supposed to show up before Valentine's Day again so she can do us in oils.

  It's a lazy Saturday, one I've taken off work. I decide to drown my dead end frustration in pussy. I've got Red bent over the bed, her lush ass smacking my thighs every time I drive into her.

  “Fuck me harder, darling. Harder!” My hand crashes into her ass. The other gives her cinnamon hair a harsh tug, showing her how fucking serious I am.

  “Yes, yes – Marshal!” My name flies out of her mouth on fire. I tilt her head down a split second before she comes, smothering her screams in the pillow. Can't have her disturbing Mia's sleep, much as I want to howl to the moon.

  I bite my tongue and taste blood. Her pussy melts, massaging my dick like pure silk.

  My hips go berserk. I think the collision between our bodies will fucking break us, but it just sends an electric heat up my spine.

  “Fuck!” I snarl it again, pounding into her, pushing the box spring to its limits. Her release unlocks mine.

  My cock swells, lava surging in my balls, and then there's that point-of-no-return release that brings heaven to earth.

  It's as good as a bastard like me is bound to get in this lifetime. Thick seed hurls up her in ropes, wrung from the depths of my balls by Red's tight sucking cunt. Her pussy is my end.

  It's fire, divine and irresistible. It's mine. It's what I keep and what I crave, a steady addiction I'm afraid I'll never be able to walk away from.

  My vision stops spinning after a while and I'm able to see the clock. Almost eight. Time to take a break from getting my rocks off long enough to make breakfast.

  I pull out reluctantly like I always do and flop down. My lungs are never happier than they are when they're replenishing breath spent fucking this woman to Jupiter and back.

  “It's early. Okay weather. We could do something today?” Red smiles, leaning over, her lips already a fresh temptation and her fingers grazing my chest.

  “There's that river museum up the highway in Dubuque. Steamships and fish so big they could swallow Whiskey in a gulp.” I aim a dirty look outside the door. Right on cue, the cat is digging at the carpet, mewing for his morning breakfast.

  “How exciting,” she says, rolling her eyes. But the softness in her gaze says sarcasm isn't the only thing on her mind. “Since you're finally asking me on a normal date, though...I'd be a fool to say no. Right?”

  Shit.

  Is that what this is? A goddamned date?

  It doesn't feel wrong, necessarily. Not till I remember the kill I keep avoiding. The grin I didn't know I was wearing vanishes.

  “Right. Get your crap together while I wash up. I'll wake honeybee. First we'll have bacon and eggs, then we'll get in my truck and make a day of it.”

  I get up to move, but she's still in bed, staring with her arms crossed. “Wow. That was easy. Too easy. What gives?”

  I shrug. “Can't a man treat his daughter and her nanny to a nice day out? Don't look too hard between the lines, Red. You'll hurt your pretty eyes.”

  She laughs while I round her side of the bed, cup her cheek, and bury her in a long, ferocious kiss. It's not just because my lips need hers, but because I need a distraction.

  I almost fucked up when I said my daughter and her nanny. I almost called Red my woman.

  Christ.

  I'm becoming too soft. Too derelict in duties I should've carried out long ago.

  And good goddamn, it's increasingly harder to feel guilty every time Red wraps her little arms around my waist, and I pull her face to the nook of my neck.

  While Mrs. Kelley's found her artistic muse in me and Mia, I've found a different inspiration in this beautiful, headstrong woman.

  A calling to be a better man. A kinder, freer beast. A need to be more than a pent up wad of hate, venom, and impending violence.

  First light I've seen since Mia at the end of this hellish torture tunnel. That's put my life in blackness ever since I left the war in pieces.

  Can I let go of the kill? Find another way to make Jackson pay for his crimes?

  I don't fucking know. I'm not ready to make any hard decisions today.

  The fact that I'm even considering it tells me something has changed.

  Red isn't just the best fuck of my life, or the fastest ticket to putting a smile on my little girl's face.

  She's a second sun, shining brighter over everything, so sweet and hot and unexpected it burns.

  If I give this more time and stretch out my arms, who the hell knows what might happen next?

  Her warmth might thaw the black ice wrapped around my heart like a prison.

  Her light may inspire a fresh insanity I never imagined, without the hurt, the obsession, the cancerous secrets.

  Her kiss could be my second chance at becoming human again.

  9

  Cast Aside (Sadie)

  “Daddy, daddy, what kinda fish is that?” Mia scrunches her face up against the glass aquarium, staring at what looks like a catfish the size of a small shark.

  “Mississippi whale, I'm guessing. You ever hear how they ate Huck Finn?” Marshal lifts the little angel onto his shoulders, giving her a better view.

  It's the dozenth time today he's smiling. God help him.

  And help me. I nudge him gently in the side, leaning closer than I should as a glorified babysitter on a field trip. “Mark Twain never wrote about river whales. Sorry to disappoint, but I was going after an American lit minor once upon a time.”

  “No steamboat Ahab? Ah, well. I never paid much attention to readin' anyway. But you, honeybee, damn sure ought to outdo daddy.” He winks, then carries Mia off to the next exhibit, a huge alligator in a tank simulating the southern bayou.

  The place is bigger than I imagined. We spend the next two hours in a crash course on river history, steamboat models, a menagerie of Mississippi wildlife. Fish, turtles, birds, and otters fight for space in my crowded memory.

  As awesome as it is, my mind is somewhere else. I think the part I remember most about our little outing is the ice cream shop across the street later.

  That's where honeybee looks up, lips smacking melted chocolate, and drops an atomic bomb on her poor father's head. “Daddy, why you and Sadie got the same room now?”

  My heart stops. Marshal's eyes shift, first to his little girl, then to me.

  I set my half-finished cup of ice cream on the table and lift my water, sipping carefully. It helps hide how bad I want to cough. Oh, Jesus. If his eyes are any indication, this is a crisis.

  “We're grownups, baby girl. Sometimes adults do grownup things, and sleeping in the same bed some nights is part of that. Don't you worry,” he says, rubbing her tiny head. “If there's ever a new mommy one fine day, I'll be the first to tell you.”

  She looks at him, taking another uneven bite of ice cream, a vague satisfaction in her eyes. “But...I want Sadie, daddy. I like her. Want Sadie to stay. And I want a puppy. A poodle or a pomer-mar-anian.”

  Say something! I keep telling myself, trying to prevent a train wreck. But for the life of me, I don't know what.

  “We'll see about the Pomeranian, dearie.” I'm turning into my mother. I smile, thinking of the last painting mom did. Marshal was a huge dark shadow looking over the little girl and her dog
, an otherworldly contrast. “As for your dad and I –“

  “We're grownups.” Marshal cuts me off. “Good friends. Patient people.”

  I cock my head, wondering what he means by the last part. His blue gaze could set me on fire. I test the waters, reaching for his huge hand. He takes it in front of Mia, coils his fingers in mine, and squeezes so hard my knuckles go white.

  “You're a babe, honeybee. So young, so innocent, so many years ahead. Listen to daddy: a whole heck of a lot can change. One day, you're with us here. No higher than my knees. Enjoying an ice cream with your old man and your nanny. Flash forward five years, and it all might be different. Everything. Even this family.”

  The little girl goes quiet, licking at her ice cream. I wonder if she understands.

  Hell, do I? Am I reading too much into what this gorgeous brute with a new softness in his voice means?

  Don't look too hard between the lines, Red. You'll hurt your pretty eyes.

  I remember his words from his morning. Remember, and smile, because the message in his couldn't be clearer. There's no need to decipher anything.

  He's telling me he's open. He won't deny this invisible, wonderfully weird chemistry. He won't run if we're destined to...I don't even know.

  But I want to find out.

  “Daddy?” Mia lowers the cone pinched in her little hands.

  “Yeah, honeybee?” Marshal takes her hand, still holding mine in the other.

  “Will you ever find me a mommy?”

  He's avoiding my eyes when he speaks again, but there's a soft certainty in his voice anyway. “Sure, Mia. If it's meant to be.”

  His fingers pulse around mine. I pinch his strong, steady hand harder.

  I'm ready once we finally lock eyes. He's hidden so many things in those eyes. His anguish, his secrets, the demons from the past that are always there.

  Today, there's something else. I think I see a future, or maybe just a chance.

  Whatever it is, I'll follow. I'll trust. I'll see the end of this crazy thing, and I'll do it with a pout on my lips and a glint in my eye.