by Ashley Lyn
“You’re amazing. You planned the wedding in just three months, kept up with your clients, and spent time with your dad at his treatments.”
I trace circles around his nipples because I have an odd obsession with them. “Do you think I should be spending so much time with my dad?” I’ve been feeling kind of guilty about it. He hurt Carter so bad. He missed his son being born and the first eleven years of his life.”
“I think it’s up to you. As long as he keeps treating you with respect, then I think you should do whatever makes you happy.”
“He’s done so much good. He has a house full of girls, a couple nannies, and a housekeeper. But I enjoy spending time with both him and the girls.”
“Have you talked to him about the paperwork that you found?”
“Yes. As soon as I mentioned it, he started to cry. Said that was something he will never be able to forgive himself for. He hurt both Carter and me, and even Mom.”
“Have you talked to your mom about it?”
“She was pissed when I told her what Dad did to Carter, then I told her about his girls and she started crying. She said she needed time to think about it before we talked about it again. I feel like I should be more pissed at him, not talk to him or spend time with him. But I’m not mad, I’m happy that I finally get time with him, and it makes me feel guilty.”
“You just worry about you. No one else’s opinion should ever dictate your life or how you feel. I’m here to support you no matter what you decide.”
“I talked to Dad, and he wants to start a nonprofit for victims of sex trafficking victims that have no families. He wants me to be a part of it. He lost a girl to suicide. She was eighteen, and had been dumped in an alley when someone went too far, beating the hell out of her. He had a contact in the hospital, and he went and paid for her medical care and took her in. She was the only one he lost, her name was Jenny. He wants to call it Jenny’s House, a home for the girls. There would be a therapist on hand twenty-four hours, as well as tutors and other stuff.”
“What about your job at Styles?”
“I would keep it. I love cutting hair, but I would be able to do any position I want. I don’t think I would be good for the fundraises or office stuff though. I would prefer to be with the girls.”
“Then that’s what you’ll do. No matter what you want to do, I’ll support you. Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been subdued lately, not so wild and crazy.”
“Don’t you worry, your little psycho is still in there. There’s just been so much emotional upheaval lately. Just a lot to think about and do.”
“What should we do for the rest of the night?”
“Order some takeout and watch movies naked?” His lips twitch and I smile at him. “Have a dance party, drink margaritas, play pop the pig and show you the wedding plans?”
“Anything else?”
“Sex. Lots and lots of sex.” He smiles and kisses me, and I roll over to straddle him. I lean down and let my massive boobies dangle in his face.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you too.”
“I was talking to your breasts.” Chuckling when he motorboats me, I squeal when he flips me off and sinks down, kissing his way between my thighs.
He gives me a lick, making me moan like a hussy.
No matter what the future holds, no matter what challenges we face, I know this man will always be in my corner.
Our souls bound, our futures entwined, our connection Soul Deep.
The End
CARTER
Watching Tristan and my sister is bittersweet.
This ending should’ve been mine, but a greedy asshole fucked it all up. I’m old enough and mature enough to realize that I played some part in that by giving up and not fighting. The last thing I wanted to do tonight is have a party, especially with all the families.
The guys from Triton are here, Mom and Roger, and Tristan’s parents, as well as Becca’s friends, Jace and Lindsey.
Watching Cash eyeball Lindsey all night is highly entertaining. She’s been ignoring him for weeks since we got back from Kearney. My lips are sealed, but there were some suspicious noises coming from Lindsey’s hotel room.
No matter how much I smile and participate in my life, it’s all fake. There’s a hole in my soul. It used to just be Rayleen missing and the hole was unbearable. Now that I know I have a son, that hole is gaping. A raw aching wound that pulses and causes me endless pain. I was taught that men don’t cry, only pussies.
I’m on the sidelines of the party, hiding in the corner when Sarah, my father’s rescue girl, comes in, followed by Raven and Belle. Becca squeals and hugs Belle and picks her up. The girl rolls her eyes, but I can see that she loves it when Becca does this. I’m surprised Raven’s here. Out of all the girls my dad saved, she’s the most damaged.
Looking around at all the happy faces, hearing the laughs and happy conversations, it hits me—I’ll never have this.
My soul mate and my son are gone. More than likely, Rayleen took him and ran as far from here as possible. It’s like a hydraulic press is expanding my ribs. I start to panic; I can’t breathe. The pressure on my chest just keeps getting worse. Black spots start dancing in my vision, and the only thing I can see is Rayleen’s sad face, and a faceless child.
“Hey.” Fingers snap in my face. I reach up, clawing at my shirt. I never should’ve worn this button-up.
“Help,” I gasp. Someone grabs my hand and puts it on their chest. “Breathe with me. Feel me pulling air into my lungs then blowing it out. Picture yourself breathing in clean, fresh air and blowing out the dark. Come on, you can do it. Count with me. Breathe in on one and breathe out on two.” I nod my head.
“One.” Breathe in. “Two.” Breathe out. Little by little, I get my breath and bearings back as I look at Sarah’s face. I’ve avoided anything to with them, and my father.
“I met her once, your Rayleen. She’s who got me through. Charles was almost scared of her. She never backed down from him when he let her out of her room. She even punched him in the nose once. She always told me that the sun always comes out again, and the day changes and the possibilities are endless. That this wouldn’t be my life forever, and to look forward to a new day, a day where you might find your sunshine.
My chest cracks, and every bit of bottled-up emotion comes out. Tears roll down my face, and I can’t hold it in. She rubs my back while every bit of pain and anger come rushing out.
“I know that you don’t want anything to do with Mac, and I completely understand. I’ll never advocate in forcing you to forget what he did to you, or even having a relationship. He’s the reason I’m alive, even if you never have a conversation or spend any time with him, but for your own good, you need to find a way to forgive him. Holding that anger in will only rot.”
Cleaning my face with the sleeves of my shirt, I look around and see my mom looking at me with tears in her eyes. “I love you,” I mouth the words to her. She grabs the front of her shirt and says it back. I give my attention back to Sarah. “She was strong?”
“Strongest person in that house. He locked her in her room one time for almost two weeks. She acted like she was going to punch him once, and he flinched, covering his head with his arms, and she laughed at him. He had his goons carry her to her room and locked her in. We could hear her laughing in her room for most of the night.”
“Why didn’t she leave then?”
“He had guards on every door twenty-four hours a day. Her room was on the top floor so the window was out. Even if she could get it open, they were all locked with keys and had alarms on them. She tried four different times when I was there.”
“Did he ever hit her?” This, and if he ever raped her, are my worst fears.
“I won’t lie to you, either he did or one of his goons did, but she still smiled, but she never hesitated spitting at them, or hurling inventive insults at them.” I can’t help but smile, picturing my girl fighting.
“I never knew if he was raping her.” I look at her in shock. “I can see the question in your eyes. Once she was in her room he never went up there. Some of the staff said that he tried, and that he ended up with injuries. He never went to her room the entire time I was there.”
“Thank you,” I tell her, because in all honesty, these were things I needed to hear. The doorbell rings and I get up to answer. Tristan starts walking to the door and I wave him off. Taking a deep breath, I open the door and shock transforms my limbs to concrete.
“I’m looking for someone named Carter?” The boy says. He looks at me with my eyes, and his face is covered in dirt and dried blood. His hands are shoved in the pocket of his khaki pants, his T-shirt is ripped, and I can see more cuts on his arms and shoulders.
Leaning down, I grab him and pick him up, hustling him into the house. Everyone stares in shock at me carrying a kicking and screaming child through the house. Running into my bedroom, I carry him into the bathroom and slam the door.
My hands immediately start checking for worse injuries. “Knock it off, asshole,” he snaps. I look at him in shock, realizing that I’m acting like a crazy person.
“Your name. What’s your name?” I ask him.
“Kyrian.”
“I’m Carter.” He crosses his arms. “So you’re my deadbeat dad?” I look at him askance.
“I’m not a deadbeat. I didn’t even know you existed until a couple weeks ago. Where’s your mom? Where’s Rayleen? I’ve been looking for her.” His lips start to quiver and tears start rolling.
“He got her.”
“Who?”
“Don’t know a name. He found us in Greeley. Mom said it was our last stop before we left the state. He smacked me around a bit when I tried to stop him from taking her. I was supposed to hide until he left, but Mom was screaming.” His fists are clenched at his sides. “She told me to call this number.” He pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I went to the Walmart and waited, then a car pulled up and a woman asked me if I was Kyrian. I said yes, and she told me to get in. I asked the password and she said “liquid sunshine.” She dropped me off here and left.”
“Let me just…I need to go and get my friend and my sister, maybe my mom. I bought clothes for you as soon as I found out about you, and I went a little uh…I have clothes for you. I bought them…I mean, yeah, I bought them after I found out that I had a son.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll turn the shower on and you can get cleaned up. I’ll be right back with some clothes.”
Walking out, I close the door and slide down to the floor. What have I done? My son’s bleeding, injured in my bathroom. He thinks I’m a deadbeat. I’ve failed my son.
I look up and see my mom and Becca standing there. “It’s my son.” They’re both crying right along with me. “What do I do?”
“Be the father I know you can be. Be there for him, and let Tristan take over the search for Ray. Be there for Ky.”
Dragging myself up, I head into the room I set up for him. The baseball theme I did was a guess; I just wanted to be ready. Grabbing some clothes, I take a minute and breathe. I can do this. I’ll be the father he needs, the father I never had.
Why is this part always so hard?
How do you really express how much the people in your life have helped you in achieving your goal? To realize a dream?
My husband will always be at the top of my list. He reads what I ask him to and leaves me alone when I need to write. He loves me no matter what, and he’s my best friend. I can never thank him enough.
My mother, my rock and my touchstone. She’s always been there picking me up and dusting me off, no matter the trouble I have gotten myself into.
My dad, whose faith in the Lord and strength to persevere is amazing to me every day. He’s a small business owner who works hard every day and gives not only to his family, but he gives his entire self to every person who asks. He’s a man who gives the shirt off his back to anyone who needs it.
My Beta readers, thank you for your endless feedback, your encouragement, and your critiques. ;-)
I hope you enjoyed Soul Deep. Next up, we’re going back to Spartan. Margo is itching, and Dane isn’t taking no for an answer.
SNEAK PEEK
Going Native
Welcome to Spartan book 4
Chapter 1
“Beans, Beans, the Musical Fruit”
Dane
I’m a grown ass man and I’m sitting here, scared shitless to get out of the fucking car. I’m here to check on the progress of the renovation to the house I bought. I’m weeks away from wrapping up shit in New York and anxious to get the fuck out.
That isn’t the reason I’m sitting here shaking like a little girl.
The reason is in that house, a blonde-haired bombshell. A woman who makes my dick hard, faster than any woman I’ve ever known.
A woman that I could let myself…love. My plan is simple: go in and tell her in no uncertain terms that when I move here, we’ll not be continuing our affair.
Getting out of my car, I hear James Brown’s “Get Up Offa That Thing” blasting on the stereo. The music dies down and Devo’s “Whip It” starts playing.
Fucking hell. Margo’s dancing in front of the front windows, pink thong and nothing else, shaking her shoulders along to the song. I never want this song to end. Every time Devo tells her to whip it, her large breasts jiggle, and not like a little.
My plan sucks. Opening the front door, she spins around and narrows her eyes at me. I give her a feral smile and whip my shirt over my head. Stepping out of my shoes, I push my pants down.
I’m naked in less than a minute.
She whimpers and I smile wider.
Stalking the rest of the way, I reach out and grip the side of her panties and rip them off. I grab her ass and lift her up to spin back to the window, thrusting home in one stroke.
The look on her face almost has me stopping. I start slow, and when I pull out, she wraps her arms around me and shakes her head.
She closes her eyes, and a single tear slides down her cheek.
“Margo—”
“Don’t. Just give me this one last time and go. I can’t do it anymore, but just give me this.”
“Mar—”
“No.”
There’s a change that comes over her features. Her tears dry up and she gives me a flirty, sultry smile. She moans loud and grips my shoulders.
“Fuck me…damn it.”
I don’t like the change. It’s like she’s detached, and as soon as that word blares in my mind, I know.
I know her history, what she’s been through. She’s detached herself from the situation, pulled back and buried every emotion.
Her gaze is blank.
“Fuck that! Bring her back! You either bring Margo back or I’ll drag her out myself.”
She pushes on my shoulders, making me stumble.
“Fuck you! You don’t get to fuck her anymore, she’s not for you!” She gets right up in my face, spitting fucking mad. “You don’t want this, you don’t want her. I don’t even know why the fuck you’re even here! You don’t live here! I didn’t invite you, you cocksucker! Get the fuck out of my house!”
She gets the couch between me and her, and I smile. Stepping on the cushions, I try and jump over the back of the couch, ‘try’ being the operative word.
I trip and face-plant on the floor, racking myself in the balls.
“Oh, sweet Jesus, are you okay?”
I have no breath in my body, and my balls feel like they’re up in my throat. I see her out of the corner of my eye and her boobs are shaking; she’s laughing at me.
I flop over on my back and squeeze my eyes shut. I haven’t been this embarrassed since middle school when the class asshole pants me in gym class.
“Do you want me to kiss them and make them all better?” I glare at her and she cracks up laughing.
The whole situation just becomes ridiculous. Both of us are naked, and I can just
picture myself jumping over the back of the couch and smacking the floor. I chuckle a bit, then the next thing I know, hysterical laughter overtakes me. Tears are streaming down my face, and I swear I get a stitch on my side.
Margo is at my side, rolling around, laughing right along with me.
I look at her and am struck by how beautiful she looks. My laughter dies down and I run my finger along her jaw.
“I’m sorry I was an asshole last time.”
She blows out a breath and sits up, picking at the rug. “I’m sorry I was hounding you for weeks. You said you didn’t want this between us, that you didn’t want to mess up your relationship with Ali, and I acted like a selfish shit. I just…I felt something.” She looks at me and I see it, the emotions she tried to hide earlier. “Something big—huge. At least it felt like that to me. I haven’t ever felt something like that. I never got the chance when I was younger. My parents were abusive assholes and kept me out of school so I never flirted or dated, and never went to prom. Then I made a good decision with shit planning and ended up in an even worse situation. When we got Ali, she was our world. She held the ragged edges of both me and Cleo together. By that time, she was taking care of herself and didn’t need us. I was just…I’d become comfortable in the knowledge that I wouldn’t ever find someone. Someone I could love, someone who would love me back. Then you came in and it felt like an earthquake. It was just there, ya know? But I think I misread everything, and for that I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put all that on you.”