Cries of Penance: 5 (Chronicles of Surrender)

by Harte, Roxy

  “It’s okay,” I assure her, praying that it is. I look at my watch, knowing Thomas took off half an hour ago. If he isn’t back in thirty minutes I’ll follow the animal trail he took even though I have no idea how to track him if he went off-trail.

  * * * * *

  She sees him before I do and commands the children to stay with me as she takes off down the steep trail leading from the house.

  “We want to go with her,” Olympia demands.

  “Not this time. Celia needs to talk to your daddy.”

  Crossing her arms, she stomps her small foot and gives me a look that is terrifying. I try to cajole her, “You used to like staying with Uncle Gar.”

  Her bottom lip pouts out and her eyes fill with tears. “I want my mommy.”

  Beside her Atso and Hektor turn on the waterworks, both of them wailing. “Mommmeee.”

  Oh God.

  I have truly been transported to hell.

  And then the twins wake up and start to cry.

  “I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.”

  Mother Teresa

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Celia

  The trail is steep and rocky, too much for the flip-flops I left the house in. I yank them off and step carefully with bare feet. I’m so relieved when I find Thomas; I throw myself into his arms. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “We heard a scream.”

  Thomas pulls me into his arms. His skin has been warmed by the sun, and his shirt is soaked through with perspiration, but I am so relieved he is not injured I don’t care. I hold him tight. He kisses the top of my head. “I’m sorry I scared you. I needed to vent.”

  I look up into his face and his body shadows me from the sun so that I can see his features. “I thought as much. I’m so sorry. I should have never allowed the baby to call me mommy and then the older ones would have never—”

  His mouth closing over my lips stops me from saying anything else. I’m an idiot.

  His pain has nothing to do with what I said. My words might have triggered the reaction but the ache was already there.

  Pulling away, I cup his jaw. He is growing a full beard and his stubble is still stiff. I will be glad when it softens. I rub my hands back and forth, enjoying the prickle. I think he enjoys it too because he closes his eyes.

  Wrapping my hand around his neck, I pull his face down to kiss me again. “I don’t think I’ll be able to wait six weeks.”

  “Is that what Garrett told you?”

  I nod.

  “It’s safe once you have stopped bleeding for a few days.”

  “He is a doctor. He should know what he’s talking about.”

  “What he is, is a pain in my ass.”

  I rub my hands down his back and, reaching his buttocks, squeeze tight through his shorts. “Pain in your ass, huh?”

  “Yesss,” he hisses.

  I bite his cheek. “I think I’ll be more agreeable to your timetable.”

  He moans when I bite harder.

  I want to cause him pain.

  I push his shirt up, baring his chest, and bite, sinking my teeth deep into his pecs. He grabs the back of my head and forces my face tight against his chest, making it impossible to bite or even breathe.

  “You know I have something you can chew on if you need to use that mouth of yours.”

  Still can’t breathe.

  He releases me and I suck in air. “Please, Lord Fyre. I need you.”

  He unbuttons and unzips. I gladly drop to my knees, needing to service him, wanting to heal him. I want to make him forget Latisha ever existed even though I know he will think of her each time he looks in his children’s faces. But not every child. Two of his children will remind him of me.

  His erection springs forward, hard and ready. Before I even push his head into my mouth I can taste him—the taste I’ve memorized as him—and salivate. I feel like an addict denied, I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want his cock in my mouth.

  His palm in the center of my forehead holds me back. “Why, Sophia, why do you want to suck on my cock?”

  “I adore your cock.”

  “Why?”

  I reach with my lips and teeth, trying so hard to gain access, but he holds me back, damn strong man. “I need to taste you, I need you to come in my mouth.”

  “Tell me why.”

  “Isn’t it enough that I have missed you for months? Isn’t it enough that I need you like I need air to breathe and food to eat?”

  “That isn’t the reason.”

  “Please,” I beg, refusing to tell him the truth and too overcome to think of a lie. “Let me comfort you. I am yours to use. Use me.”

  He releases my forehead only to grab me by the hair on top of my head. It hurts, but I don’t care. He pulls me into him insistently, and I gladly open my mouth to take him, but he pushes in too hard, too fast, too deep, making me gag and choke. My eyes water. He pushes deeper and I gag and choke again. Tears slide over my cheeks. He pushes harder, deeper, and his length goes deeper into my throat, leaving me gagging around it. I’m past choking now, I can’t breathe.

  He uses my throat, deep, deep, deeper.

  Vomit forces its way from my gut and he pulls out only long enough for me to spit.

  Catching his gaze, holding it, I watch his face darken with lust as I take his cock back into my mouth. This time it isn’t him forcing himself deep, it is me taking him deep, swallowing him, milking him with the muscles in my throat.

  “God, my love.”

  My love.

  The emotion that’s been riding me hard all morning strips me raw, and I give all of it to him in my gaze. I love you, I love you, I love you. Please let me heal you.

  Thomas’ eyes close and his head drops forward. His lips move. I know he is saying something, but I can’t understand the words, and then I understand. He is praying.

  I release him only long enough to lick his shaft once, down and back. Letting my saliva drip out of my mouth to make him slick, wetter, I slide his shaft into my mouth and he hisses with pleasure.

  “Sophia.” He growls my name softly but it’s a warning growl. He is coming—hard and fast and thick and creamy. I swallow and keep swallowing.

  Holding on to his thighs, I pull him deeper into my throat as he jerks with a finality.

  * * * * *

  Hearing the twins’ screams, my mind goes straight to a bloody circumcision and I run the rest of the trail, Thomas close behind. When we reach the courtyard, all the children are crying but it is the twins I go to first, checking their diapers to make certain they are intact.

  Standing, shaking from head to toe, I face Garrett and slap him as hard as I can. “How dare you!”

  He backs away from me. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You put doubt in my mind, you motherfucking bastard!”

  * * * * *

  The children are easier to console than I am. An hour later I am still shaking, and Thomas insists that I go to bed and rest. I don’t want to rest. I want to hurt someone. Really hurt someone and Garrett seems like the most worthy target of my anger. Facing Thomas, I command, “Keep him away from my children.”

  I guess I sleep, I don’t remember my mind ever shutting down to sleep. I kept arguing. Arguing with everyone, Thomas and Garrett, telling them that I didn’t want to sleep, didn’t need to sleep, but then I wake up realizing I did.

  I lie still on the sofa, listening intently, and hear thunder in the distance. It is a low rumble and I don’t fear it because it seems far, far away. Rain would be wonderful. The cool breeze coming through the windows is very nice.

  I realize that the darkness isn’t just due to the approaching storm. It is dusk, and I’ve slept away the entire day.

  I think the babies must be hungry, but feeling my breasts, they aren’t full.

  I almost feel like I recently nursed them, but I couldn’t have because
I was sleeping.

  I slapped Garrett.

  Master.

  I wonder what the punishment is for slapping Master?

  I don’t know if I want to find out, but two soft male voices draw me out of bed like a magnet. Passing the children’s room, I peek in and see four sleeping children. The sight makes me smile, and I wonder how it was so easy for them to steal my heart.

  Garrett sees me first and stands quickly. He starts toward me, not waiting for me to come to him, and my heart races. I expect now I will find out the exact punishment for being the worst slave ever.

  I am surprised when he wraps me in his arms and pulls me into a hug. He holds me. He holds me so long it becomes awkward, and I have to force myself to relax in his embrace and not struggle. He keeps holding me and after a while our breathing matches, and I feel that I am sliding into and out of him. I think I am still dreaming.

  Master says, “I’m sorry.”

  Definitely dreaming.

  I try to wiggle out of Master’s dream arms, but they hold me tighter.

  “Relax.”

  My dream Master is definitely making me uncomfortable.

  “I haven’t been here for you.”

  No, no, no.

  “If you ask me for your freedom, I will give it to you.”

  “That isn’t what I want.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m sorry I slapped you.” I try to pull away, to look into his eyes, to make him understand, but he holds me tighter than a vise.

  “I deserved it.”

  I go completely limp in his arms, and it seems to be what he was waiting for because he lifts me and carries me to the couch. Sitting, he positions me on his lap. I look toward Thomas for help, but he is sitting cross-legged in a thickly upholstered chair and one baby is propped into the bend of each knee. Either he is ignoring me and Garrett completely or he is completely enraptured by his sons.

  “Look at me.”

  I do, meeting Garrett’s gaze.

  “There is no room in our relationship for lack of trust…or doubt. I’ve caused both.”

  I take a deep breath and hold his gaze, forcing myself to because this isn’t easy. Spank me, beat me, but please don’t bare your soul to me—that would hurt too much. I know I’m not going to like the direction of this conversation. I feel it. Deep in my guts. I dread his next words.

  “As your Masters, we’ve made some decisions regarding your future.”

  Oh fuck. No, no, no!

  “You, Thomas and the children will leave as a family.”

  What about you?

  “And I will be your brother.”

  “No!”

  “Listen! This is the cover story we have decided on and this is the way it is going to be.”

  I turn my head to look at Thomas, but he isn’t looking at us. Garrett grabs my chin and jerks my head around. “I. Am. Your. Master. You will call me Lord Ice or Master in private.”

  I shudder, frightened, realizing I don’t trust him and I do have doubts.

  He strokes my shoulder, teasing his fingertips over my gooseflesh. “It’s okay if you fear me while you learn to trust me again.”

  I can’t breathe around the lump in my throat.

  Lord Ice kisses my shoulder. “I like your fear.”

  “Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists. … When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. … [W]e are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.”

  Edmond de Goncourt and Jules de Goncourt, The Goncourt Journals

  Chapter Thirty

  Thomas

  Celia is naked and sitting on Garrett’s lap. He has been torturing her for over an hour with caresses and pinches meant to tease and titillate—meant to mind-fuck—meant to regain control, and as much as I’m enjoying the show, I’m exhausted. The twins sleep beside me in their makeshift bed. My only decision is whether I really want to walk to the bedroom or sleep in the chair.

  My cell ringing is a jolt.

  “Get out. Now!” Hearing Pepé’s command over my cell, I react.

  Standing, I command, “Get out of the house!”

  I assume they will both obey as I run back toward the bedrooms. I grab Atso and Nikkos and hold them tight as I shout for the other two children to get out of bed. I am surprised when Celia jerks the now terrified and screaming Atso from my arms. She holds out her hand to Nikkos and he goes to her. His eyes are wide and he is obviously terrified, but he is silent. Without a word, she turns and runs. The exchange takes seconds we didn’t have, but with six children to get out of the house, I also know it will take all three of us.

  Hector and Olympia have grabbed their Go Bags and I usher them out at a dead run.

  We gather beside the house. Celia and Garrett are already buckling the two youngest kids into car seats in the back of the car she drove here. We don’t have infant seats for the twins but I see they are still tucked into the dresser and it is wedged in the back on the floor. The car isn’t safe, there have no doubt been reports to both sides concerning its make and model. Fleeing on foot isn’t safe. Fuck! “Out of the car, into the truck. Now!”

  “That isn’t safe!” Celia argues, and I wonder if she even realizes she is naked. She’s right though. We can’t escape in the truck. She slides into the backseat, putting Olympia on her lap.

  “Garrett? Where’s Garrett?” she asks, sounding terrified.

  He answers the question, climbing in the front. He went back for the diaper bag and Celia’s caftan. Starting the engine, I shout, “You never go back!”

  “She’s naked!”

  “Better her naked than you dead.” I don’t turn on the lights and drive off-road as fast as I can, following the wild mustang trail and staying close to the canyon walls. It is only fifteen minutes later that there is an explosion behind us. A fireball lights the sky. Someone breeched the adobe’s perimeter. Between Deeth and Halleck I get us on a main road and second-guess myself before turning to head north on State Route 225.

  I had no doubt we were in danger but having not stuck around long enough to find out who was searching for us, I now have no idea who found us.

  I’d hoped we could stay there for several more weeks, because we are unprepared for a move and now we’re on the run with no money, no food and no clothing in an easily identifiable vehicle. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm and hoping no one asks what the plan is. We don’t have one.

  “Papa, should you turn on the GPS now?”

  I look in the rearview mirror, meeting Hektor’s gaze. Why didn’t I think of that? I have so many contingency plans to keep my children safe, but I didn’t think about falling back on any of those plans. I smile at him, trying to appear reassuring. “What month is it?”

  “June.” He smiles back at me, our gazes locked in the mirror. I wink at him and am relieved when he looks out his window, an expression of contentment on his face. Levelheaded, calm, he trusts the plan.

  A quick glance at Garrett and Celia proves they don’t. Pale, tight-lipped, neither one of them signed up for this.

  “Where are we going?” Garrett asks.

  “At present to a storage unit in Salt Lake. After that where the GPS takes us.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Celia presses two fingers to his mouth. “Thomas will take care of us. We follow the rules and trust the contingency plan.” She glances quickly toward Nikkos. “Right, buddy?”

  “Right.” Nikkos settles back into his seat, relaxing for the first time since we took flight.

  I wink at Celia and I’m brightened by her return smile.

  Garrett chooses to stare out the window into the darkness. Arms crossed and body tense, he is our weak link.

  Dawn is breaking when we reach the storage unit just outside Salt Lake City. I park a half mile out, car well-hidden, and run the distance in, making sure the perimeter
is clear and that no one arrived before me. I’m nervous. As thankful as I am for Pepé’s warning, I have too many unanswered questions. One of us has to have an undetected tracking device. The newborns I rule out.

  I searched every millimeter of Celia’s and Garrett’s skin.

  I am at the storage unit before I decide it has to be one of the children and run faster than I’ve ever run for my own life to get back to them. I am not prepared for the sight waiting for me. Celia is sitting on the ground beside the car, holding a softly crying Hektor on her lap. Blood is trickling from the back of his neck and Garrett is wiping clean a pocket knife.

  Celia holds her trembling hand out and resting in her palm is a blood-soaked tracking device. Her voice shakes. “It had to be one of the babies. They kept following us. From town to town.”

  I snatch the device from her and take it far enough from the family to be safe before exploding it.

  “How long do we have?” Garrett asks.

  “Minutes,” I say, already sprinting to the driver’s side.

  Celia springs into action, getting Hektor back into the car and staying in the backseat. It’s too crowded for her comfort but we have no time. Without comment, Garrett too gets into the vehicle.

  I drive north, listening to Garrett’s loud silence and Celia whispering softly to the children. She is calm and in complete control. As I witness the changes and growth in her from the woman I first met to today, I realize she has always been this woman. I saw it in her eyes the first time in the Observation Sphere. She has always been my perfect match in every way.

  Once in Canada, I retrieve cash and another SUV. Quickly new names, stories and disguises are created.

  “The Twin Cities?” Garrett repeats. “As in Minneapolis/St. Paul?”

  “Yes.”

  Eventually everyone except the two of us fell asleep and the tension bouncing between us has been unbearable. It’s going to be a long night.

  “Are you up for this?” I ask him.

  He meets my gaze and I seek answers in his face before returning my gaze to the road. After a long moment he gives me his answer. “Before you left for DC, we were a ménage with problems, and now, for better or worse, we’re a family. I can’t be her husband ever. Wherever we end up I expect you to place her above all others. Your children. Me. Glorianna and the Guardians. Even your brother. Make her your wife and I’ll do my part by being there for both of you.”