Fighting Fate (Endgame #4)

by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  “Mouth.” I remind her as I grip her hips, dragging her up my chest— feeling her slick folds leave a path is almost my undoing. Reaching up, I take her hand and place it atop the headboard. My duct tape doing a damn fine job of holding. “Keep it there.” She whimpers. “It moves, I stop.” Hoping she doesn’t call my bluff because one taste of her cunt and I’m done. Titling her pelvis up to give me better access I dive in and feast. Spearing my tongue to enter her where my fingers abandoned her, pinching her clit and stroking my cock all at the same time. I run baseball stats in my mind to hold off but she is bewitching. I can’t focus on anything but her scent, her taste, her love . . . it consumes me. Her good hand comes back and pushes my hand off my dick, and feeling her fingers circle me, tugging and stroking, I come close to losing it. Picking up my efforts I suck her clit and nip, thrusting my tongue in, forcing her body to shake as her scream pierces my eardrums.

  Still not my fucking name. One last lick and I drag her down my body to line her up with my dick. “I can’t again.” She’s panting.

  “You can. And scream my fucking name.” I enter her with an upward thrust, filling her full of me. Her lithe body arches and her injured hand falls. “Up.” She rests it back where it needs to be so I grip her other hand, giving her leverage to ride my body. My other hand pulls her nipples as our breathing and skin slapping echo in the room.

  “Oh shit.” She wails. Her quivering muscles grip my cock and I push up harder as she slams down . . . time after time.

  “My name.” My fingers let go of her breast to grip her chin and dip it down so she has to look at me.

  Bending my knees, using my feet as leverage I pound up as she screams. “Caden!” My. Fucking. Name.

  More than once.

  I let go of her hand, hold her hips still as I hammer up until she splinters again and I scream her name. It fills the air, drapes over us as her head hits my chest. “Love you.” I remind her of what’s important.

  My love.

  Her happiness.

  Our future.

  “How are you talking?” I rumble from her sputtering and pull from her tight heat. Rolling her over, I situate her hand on the pillow and stand to grab her towel from earlier. I wipe her clean, scrub over my dick and fall back in bed. Holding her all night long and fantasize what it would be like to do this without shields . . . one day I hope to make it a reality. “Love you.” Her lips find my shoulder, her head my chest and she’s asleep.

  Not a damn thing was fixed in two weeks. It was fourteen days of arguments, evil glares, harsh words . . . and stolen moments. Walking in to find Avery on the couch crying pisses me off. I scan the house, making sure nobody is here before I take her in my arms, and that boils my blood. “What the hell?”

  “Emberlee.” She sniffles. “She’s so mean to everyone. Saylor still doesn’t know the truth because we promised Deacon, Emberlee is making up shit and I can’t contradict her without betraying Deacon. I can’t do this. I’m losing my mind. I can’t paint, my mind is stressed and I fucking miss you.”

  “Picasso . . .” I can’t say anything to reassure her because we’re stuck. In limbo. “I’m ready to tell everyone and if they don’t like it— fuck them.” Her eyes widen in hope and I feel like an ass with my next words. “Deacon is thinking of giving up ball. Mason talked him giving it . . . and us, one month.” Her head drops and I’m pissed. Her dreams are mine to bring true and I can’t do it.

  “I hate lying.” I nod. “Every time Mason jokes and you agree to being with another girl I want to vomit.” It’s been a regular thing we’re faced with. We’re creating smokescreens and facades left and right. I don’t touch anyone else, but illusions are easy to create when nobody is looking for the truth.

  “It’s only you.” She nods. “We okay?” She’s still. “Aves?”

  “Yeah. We’re good.” I don’t believe her, so I carry her to bed and make sure we’re good. It’s the only time we’re truly free.

  An hour later our phones go off with a text from Mason. “We’re being summoned.” She giggles.

  “You go first. I’ll be a few minutes behind you.” She changes into her old paint clothes and I hate she isn’t creating. I need to get her outta her head so she can be free.

  Storming into the house, practicing for my Oscar Award is hell. “What the hell was so important that you interrupted my afternoon sex session?”

  “Make it quick, Mason.” Avery flits but I catch her eye. This time I wasn’t lying . . . I was having a session with her.

  “No shit, Avery. Caden, you could have taken your normal five minutes and finished.” Mason wishes.

  “Fuck you, Mason.” I play along and catch Avery’s smirk.

  “We have a mission. It could be dangerous. Met with belligerent lovesick minions. You may be called names. You may get shit thrown at you, maybe fists, but Shortstop’s won’t hurt. If you wish to accept, you will be rewarded by spoiling many nieces and nephews that come from the mating of Deacon and Saylor.” I have no clue how many times he was dropped on his head as an infant.

  “What the actual fuck are you smoking?” Avery seems to be as confused as me.

  “Holy fuck, you’re dumber than I thought.” I toss a water bottle but it misses my target.

  “Our hands are tied, so we need to be creative. Here’s the low down. Deacon is miserable. Saylor has no idea he and Adriane aren’t together. Deacon made us promise him in Colorado we wouldn’t get involved, that we would tell Saylor nothing. Stubborn grasshopper he is.” I’m still waiting for him to make sense. “He’s losing his sitter and said he may quit baseball. He and Saylor worked their schedules out so if this happened Julie wouldn’t be affected. I asked him for one month, so we have twenty-nine days to implement Operation Playing Fate.” I knew the baseball situation . . . just had no clue he was gonna try and fix this.

  “I’m lost.” Avery stares at me, and I’m proud of her for playing coy.

  “Deacon and Saylor need to fix their shit.” That’s a no-shitter. “We have to make that happen, and it’s going to be hard but doable.” Oh God. He has a plan and that means we’re all in trouble. “Time for Master Mason to teach you something. Here’s the plan . . .” He whips out diagrams and notes . . . he’s carefully executed this shit. I’m scared. “T-minus twenty-nine days, bitches.” He raises imaginary bottles and cheers. Regardless of his mental status, he’s trying to make our bond strengthened. We need to be unbreakable . . . get back to the basics.

  My time with Avery is non-existent with baseball and classes. Add in the clusterfuck Emberlee created and we’re screwed. We just won another game and got kudos from Coach Gill . . . yet Deacon told him he regrets Mason and I not going pro. He’s got his head in the books, his time more taut than ours. “How you holding up, man?”

  “Two weeks,” he announces. I won’t let him lose— Saylor, baseball, or the family he deserves.

  “If you know that’s gonna be the outcome, why keep going?” I want him to fight for the life he deserves. Deacon defeated isn’t something I’m used to.

  “I promised Mason. I gave him a month, and it’s all I could offer because my situation changed everything with us. The least I can do is keep my word.” I’m ready to hit a girl. Emberlee fucked him, Avery, and all of us.

  “Keep your head and your heart in the game. Things could change.” I’m determined to force the change.

  “Maybe.” That’s all he gives me.

  “Head and heart, Deacon.” He drops his focus back to his book and I’m fuming. I know what I need to calm me.

  As soon as we get home I call her. “You alone?”

  “No.” She’s despondent.

  “Open your window.” It’s dusk, but fuck it. I need her. She needs me. I hang up and leave without a word to Mason. Better to not draw attention. I climb through her window, close it and lock it. Making sure her bedroom door is locked, I close the book she was studying, pull her in my arms and lead her to the bed. “Hold me.” I sound lik
e a pussy begging but she’s balm I need for the wounds we’ve endured.

  “All night.” She promises. Her arm drapes over my stomach, head on my chest and leg tangled in mine. “Love you.” She reminds me of what’s important this time. And before sleep overtakes us both, her tiny hand finds my mouth and shoves a gummy bear inside.

  A few days pass and no progress is made with Deacon or Saylor— and Mason’s plan for her isn’t working. I find Deacon staring, seeking answers from the field we all call home— I can see the torment in his face. “Did you find it?”

  “Find what?” He doesn’t spare me a glance.

  “Whatever you’re looking for. Whatever will calm that inner turmoil swirling in you.” I need him to realize he’s worth battling for. Shortstop’s love is as well.

  “Nah, man. I think it’s as lost as I will be without the game.” I swallow, fighting the urge to spit the truth in his face.

  “I think it’s located two doors down from you. Just as miserable and wandering through life as you.” Clear as fucking day I give him the answer.

  “Caden,” he seethes.

  “No. I gave you what you wanted. I haven’t said shit to her. She still thinks you’re with Adriane. I haven’t told her the truth when it’s obvious she’s sinking in her version of it. I know she hurt you, but she hurt herself just as much. The broken parts shes worked so hard to put together, you’ve become the missing piece.” I’m tired of it. I hate seeing the pain marring my girl’s face, the heaviness of our hearts . . . all of it can be fixed with a conversation.

  “I hear you. I understand. What you don’t understand is the commitment I made to Julie the second I held her. I knew Adriane didn’t want her. I knew she was going to leave. I swore I’d never let that affect Julie. I swore I wouldn’t let someone walk out of her life again. Saylor did. I broke a promise to my daughter, and I refuse to do it again. I can’t. I do that, I become like the man who broke Saylor.” I can’t argue his logic as much as I want to because there is a lot of truth to it.

  “Fuck.” I grip the fence and get lost in thought.

  “I don’t want to give it up,” he admits.

  “We’ll figure a way,” I beg.

  “You and Mason gave up so much already. This isn’t your burden.” I wish he’d get we didn’t sacrifice shit.

  “It’s not yours either. It’s your daughter.” Wrong term . . . Julie is his world.

  “She isn’t a burden. Ever. But she is a responsibility. One I love. One I wouldn’t trade.” Time for the big guns.

  “So when she gets older, you can tell her you quit for her. Way not to burden or guilt her.” I need him to hear the truth.

  “Fuck,” he whispers.

  “We’ll figure it out,” I promise him.

  “We’ll figure it out,” he agrees.

  I leave and head to the gym where Mason is trying some bullshit mind shit with Saylor. I’ve had enough. “Let’s go.” I stand in front of them and motion for Saylor to come with me.

  “Where?” Mason asks— wrong fucking pupil.

  “Not you, dickhead. You had your shot, you didn’t fix her.” I remind him of the importance with my look.

  “I’m not a wind-up toy,” Saylor shoots to both of us.

  “Might as well be, shorty.” Mason winks at her. “She’s all yours.” He recognizes defeat like a good man. He’ll have no man card when I relay this story . . . once everything is fixed.

  “Where are we going?” Shortstop and I haven’t spent a lot of one on one time . . . but I love her the same. She’s trying to create distance with everyone for the sake of Deacon and that proves to me how much she loves him. She’ll sacrifice her friendship with us so he’ll have us.

  “Hiking.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. What part of this workout did you think I liked? What makes you think I want to add more exercise to my routine?” I don’t do whining. Or deflecting.

  “I’ll buy you an ice cream.” It works for my girl.

  “Double scoop?” She’s milking this. It’s a goddamn hike. One foot in front of the other. I didn’t sign her up for American Ninja Warrior.

  “Yes.” I give in— knowing I’ll be a spectator in ice cream partaking. Baseball season and clean eating.

  I reach the destination and watch her take in the scenery. I’m silent as I let her keep pace. She needs to work things out— I’m giving her the scenery to do so. “What is this supposed to accomplish?” Her questions didn’t take long.

  “Just wait, grasshopper. If this doesn’t work, we’re shit outta luck, and I’m gonna start crushing happy pills and putting them in your ice cream.” I’m not joking.

  She’s huffing and puffing, dragging ass. Deacon needs to work her out better. “I’m not running a marathon.” She snips. We’re not jogging— she’d be in last place during a real marathon.

  “We’re here.” I stop at the small bridge. “Go for it.”

  “For what? Want me to catch our dinner?” I laugh— sarcasm is cute on her.

  “No. Scream. Let it go.” I stare at her waiting for her to obey.

  “You’re crazy.” I shout, letting it echo over the water . . . and let out another one. I’m releasing my frustration along with her.

  “Your turn.” She eyes me like I’m mentally unstable. “I promise you’ll feel better.” And she will. Best therapy in the world. She ekes some kind of screech— it’s weak. “That’s all you have?” I’m goading her into a reaction. She doesn’t let me down.

  She keeps going until she has nothing left. She drops to her knees and I fight myself to hold her up. She needs to release this. “Better?” I don’t want to be smug.

  “Yeah. Thank you.” Mason sucks. I win this round.

  “Anytime. We miss you.” She’s part of us . . .

  “I’m not coming back next year.” I trip with her confession and stop.

  “Saylor, don’t.” I don’t have anything to combat this. Time we gave them. Space will destroy them.

  “I can’t, Caden. It hurts too much. I miss him. I miss Julie. I miss everything. For the life of me, I can’t get any of it back. I can’t have you and Mason without him. I can’t have Avery without him. I can’t have any of you without him.” Her pain is hitting me in the gut.

  “Fuck.” My own pain is felt with that word.

  “I hate Emberlee. I hate Adriane. I hate them both, but I hate her for leaving and coming back, for ripping everything from me. That makes me a horrible person because I’m wishing Julie’s mom didn’t exist.” I don’t say anything because I agree with her. I lead her to the car and slam the door. “You need to go scream?” She’s smirking.

  “No, I need to beat the shit out of someone.” I’m honest. And there’s a long fucking line.

  “I don’t have any candidates. Check back tomorrow.” She gives me a smile but I can’t return it.

  I face her as we stop in the driveway. “Promise me you won’t finalize transferring schools. Give me a few days.”

  “Caden, you can’t change things.” She’s a determined little thing.

  “No, but I can get you the truth.” I plead with her.

  “The truth sucks. I’d rather live in denial.” Yeah, that sucks. For all of us.

  “Promise me, Saylor.”

  “I promise.” She’s making me feel better. She doesn’t think the truth will set her free. The next words she utters tells me this. “I’ll miss you.”

  “No you won’t because you aren’t going anywhere.” She doesn’t know she’s triggered me. I’ll make it all okay because in the end, it’s the only way my girl is okay. And Avery’s happiness is all that matters. To me.

  Chapter Nine

  I end the call from Sara and don’t pause. “Deacon! Mason! Caden!” The game ended and I wave to the dugout so they stop and wait for me.

  “Is Julie okay?” Deacon pants.

  “Yes. It’s Mr. Winchester.” I close my eyes, fighting tears, and see Caden’s hands clench. Fighting the u
rge to reach for me. “He’s missing. An explosion on base, and it’s been nine hours. They’ve pulled some bodies, but they haven’t been identified.”

  “What do we do?” Caden drops his glove and leans his head back. The tick in his jaw is a sign he’s struggling. Loyal to a fault but nothing is fixed with our group. He’s the levelheaded one that keeps us together. But it’s taking its toll— fucking with my gentle man and I want to soothe it.

  Mason steps forward, reassuring us all. “We do what we always do. We support each other. It sucks considering none of us are speaking to her, but we know it has to be done.”

  “You have me more confused than a blind man at a silent movie, but whatevs.” I quip. He’s been spearheading the freeze Lee Lee out charade. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

  “Do we need to pick her up?” Deacon reaches for his phone, I’m sure struggling.

  “No. Saylor took her to Eastborough. Our parents are there, and your mom said Julie is fine.” I refuse to look at his face when I mention Saylor, so I hurry to the parking lot.

  “We’ll be there in five, Avery.” Deacon hollers and I can imagine what the car will smell like with their sweat from the game.

  The fear hangs dense on the drive over and I want to seek comfort in his arms. A quick brush of his hand against my cheek is all I get before he goes to Emberlee. I’m proud and hurt in the same sense. She’s the reason we’re still a secret . . . yet, he loves with all he has. I’m the recipient of that most days, so I sigh and suck up my reservations.