Little Dove
Page 37
“I’d make sure of it.”
“Would you still be my Daddy even after you’re a dada?”
I pulled her closer so her ass was firmly on my hard-on. “Try to stop me.”
She grinned and tossed the pack toward the wastebasket.
I didn’t watch to see if it made it in.
I was too busy bending my little dove over my desk so I could tie her to me in a new way.
Juliet
One Year Later
“You sure about this?”
No.
“Yes.”
I didn’t want to do it, but I needed to.
Maximo helped me off the four-wheeler like I was made of delicate glass and the world around me was made of lethal knives. Even once I was standing, he kept hold of me as we walked through a thin path between the trees.
Dread coursed through me like thick sludge, but I forced myself forward.
He stopped at a small clearing. “This is it. Do you want me to stay?”
“No, I’m okay.”
He looked hesitant to leave.
“I just need a minute alone with him.”
“I’ll be right over there,” Maximo relented. “Call if you need me. And keep an eye out for scorpions, insects, any animals. Even birds can—”
“Daddy,” I interrupted, pressing in as close as I could, “the only predator who wants to eat me is you.”
“Christ, don’t say shit like that, or we’ll have a repeat of me fucking you on the four-wheeler until we break the axel.”
“That was fun.”
“It’d take a hell of a lot longer to walk home from here.”
“It’d still be worth it.”
“Juliet,” he said in the voice that sent a tremor down my spine.
That didn’t stop me from taunting, “Maximo.”
“I’m gonna spank your ass when we get home.” His words were harsh, but his expression was filled with heat and tenderness and concern.
And love.
So much love.
He kissed me, soft and sweet. “I’ll be right over there.”
“I know.”
He was always close whenever I needed him.
And I always needed him.
With one last scan of me and the area, Maximo backtracked through the narrow path.
I waited until I couldn’t hear his footsteps before looking down at the dirt in front of a large rock.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, though the name felt weird on my tongue.
Even when he’d been alive, he’d never been a dad to me. Any good memories associated with him were covered in asterisks because there was something bad attached, too.
This is stupid.
After checking the ground for bugs and boogeymen, I sat down. “I bet if the afterlife is real and you’re looking up at me, you’re furious, huh? Your Jule-bug married to the man who killed you.” I rubbed my round stomach. “And having his baby, too. It’s a boy, due in two months. I like the name Rhett. Or Rocco. I can’t decide. Maximo doesn’t care, he’s just over the moon I’m giving him a son.”
I waited for hellfire to erupt in front of me because Shamus had sweet-talked the devil into letting him come back to make my life hell one last time.
It didn’t happen, of course, so I continued carrying the conversation.
“Ella—the therapist I see sometimes—suggested I talk to you. She said I need closure. I think I’m supposed to air my grievances into the universe so I can forgive you and let it all go.”
Again, I paused like Shamus was going to sprout through the ground and tell me to take my hippie bullshit to a commune.
“But because you were such a greedy coward, I met Maximo,” I pointed out. “And he saved me from whatever shithole I’d have been buried in thanks to you. Now I have an amazing life. A perfect husband. Good friends. A business. A baby boy soon. And I have love. So much of it, sometimes it feels like my chest will explode because it’s so full.”
With perfect timing, my son rolled in my stomach.
“That’s why I’m not here to bitch you out,” I told my dad or the universe or whoever. “I’m here to thank you.” Using the rock, I stood and looked down at his grave. “Your death was the only good thing you ever did for me because it brought me Maximo. So, thank you.”
With that, I walked away from my father’s grave and knew I wouldn’t be back.
I cleared the thin path onto the trail where Maximo waited. As soon as he saw me, he hurried over to take my hand so I didn’t trip on a rock.
It wouldn’t be the first time I did that.
Concern furrowed his browse as he scanned my face, likely searching for tears or—more likely—rage. “You okay?”
“Perfect.”
“Did you say everything you needed?”
“Yup.”
Ella was right, I felt a sense of closure, even if I hadn’t said what she’d suggested.
Straddling the four-wheeler, I didn’t sit. Instead, I pulled my husband closer and kissed him. “I love you, Daddy.”
“Love you, too, little dove.”
I sat and scooted to make room for him. When he didn’t climb on, I asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Give me a second.”
I watched him go down the path I’d just come from.
As curious as I was to know what he was up to, I stayed where I was. I soaked in the beauty around me and the beauty that was my life.
I was happy.
Safe.
Carefree.
Permanent.
Maximo
Standing above Shamus’ grave, I looked down and hoped like fuck he was in hell looking back up at me.
“Only good thing you ever did in your life was make Juliet. And you fucked her up. Fucked her over. But I fixed it. Killed the prick who stabbed her. Killed Carmichael and Dobrow for trying to steal her from me because you used her as payment. I take care of her. And in return, I get the perfection that’s Juliet Black.”
I tugged my joggers down, freeing my dick.
And then I pissed on Shamus McMillon’s grave, grinning as I watched it soak into the dirt.
“I won, motherfucker.”
The End!
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