Kicking and Screaming

by Silver, Jordan

  “I don’t think I like guns.”

  “Too bad, who knows what the fuck your idiot family will do next, no, it’s better safe than sorry.

  I don’t envision us being apart too often in our lifetime, but on the rare occasion that it does happen, I will feel much better knowing that you can handle the situation.”

  “I thought you didn’t want me fighting with my family?”

  “Baby, after what I saw tonight, they’re lucky I’m not putting a hit out on them. I lift the ban, anyone of them fuck with you, knock their fucking lights out and I’ll take care of cleanup.

  It’s pretty safe to say that you’re never going back there, not even for a one day visit.”

  “Don’t be nuts, dad still lives there and Jonas.”

  “They can bring their asses here. You are not going back there and that’s final.”

  At least the argument that ensued helped take her mind off of being held at knifepoint by a fucking nutter.

  EPILOGUE

  “No daddy, no.” The little terror escaped me and hightailed it under the desk. She is my penance for all the shit I did in my past. Mom did warn me that one day I would get mine, but damn.

  “Firefox, could you come and get this one please.” My little firecracker pouted at me from beneath my desk where she now sat on my feet.

  She’s so cute. I had to bite back a smile, because that would only encourage her. Sometimes, I wonder what I ever did to deserve the little terror. I don’t recall being that damn bad as a kid or an adult to have brought this down on my head. It has to be her mother.

  The only girl out of four kids, the baby in fact, and at two and a half, she’s given me more trouble than her three brothers combined.

  Between her and her mom, I’m not sure which one of them is going to make me grey before my time.

  “Come on Alyssa, daddy needs to make a very important call and he can’t do that with you making him crazy.” Fat lot she cares. She knows that daddy will let her have her way in everything anyway. All she has to do is swell up with tears and let that bottom lip tremble and I’m putty in her little hands.

  The twins were in school, while the youngest boy was in Pre K, but this one was too young to go anywhere. That’s if I ever let my baby girl go to school before college.

  It was a running source of entertainment between her mother and mine, especially her mother, who seemed to find my overprotectiveness hilarious. She didn’t quite understand that bond between a Texan and his daughter.

  To make matters worse, of all our kids, she was the only one that looked like my wife. My boys were my replicas. It was almost uncanny how much they looked like me, but Alyssa was all Maxie, even down to her temperament.

  Her wild abundance of black curls and those silver eyes that were even now looking at me pleadingly always went right to the heart of me.

  I wriggled my feet under her and she giggled and clapped her hands as though she wasn’t interrupting my day.

  I’ve gotten into the habit of working from home at least three days out of the week, which gives me more time with my family, but my little darling didn’t much care about what I had going on.

  As far as she was concerned, she, her brothers, and her mom owned me. As long as I am in the house, I’m theirs.

  Maxie came waltzing into the room looking young and fresh in cutoff jeans and a tank top. In the past six years she has matured into a stunning young woman, becoming more and more beautiful as the days go by. And everyday with her is still a damn adventure.

  I’d tamed her some, but the truth is, she pretty much got away with everything. As long as she and the babies were safe, I pretty much didn’t deny her much.

  My heart still trips over itself whenever I see her, and at night when we go to bed, I still spend hours showing her just how much she’s loved.

  She had grown so much once I’d cut some of her family off completely and there was no more friction in her life. Now it was just us and our kids, and my family who loved her almost as much as I do.

  I’ve heard that staying home so much would cause us to grow tired of each other, but to the contrary, it’s brought us closer than we ever would’ve been.

  “I’ve tried to call Branson twice already, but each time your kid comes up with a new stunt to get my attention. I just need ten minutes and you can bring her back.”

  She bent over to look under the desk where the baby was now chewing on her blanket, which she dragged everywhere with her.

  If I didn’t know the racket that would ensue, I would trash the thing, but the longest I’ve ever been able to get away with hiding it was thirty minutes.

  “Come Lyssa, daddy’s busy.”

  “Don’t tell her that. She’ll think I’m too busy for her.”

  “Jackson, you have got to stop worrying about stuff like that. How many times must I tell you, the kids aren’t gonna grow up to hate you just because you don’t spend every second that you’re here entertaining them.”

  She pulled the baby out from under the desk and that set her off. As I’ve said, she has her mother’s temperament, and she doesn’t care who’s on the wrong end of it.

  I could see where this was headed already; these two fight like cats and dogs. Sometimes, I think I’m home just to referee.

  Her little body stiffened up and her mouth opened in her usual ‘I’m about to scream this place down’ way.

  Then came the hair pulling and the name-calling. I won’t say who was doing what, just suffice it to say, I was not looking forward to the teen years.

  “Give her here.” I tried to head things off before they got too far out of hand. “Well why did you call me in here then?”

  “Never mind that, just leave her before she cries herself hoarse again, or give you another black eye.”

  “You spoil her, I hope you know that you’re the one who’s going to have to deal with her when she grows up to be the little monster that she is.”

  “She’ll be fine, just go back to whatever you were doing.” It amazes me that she doesn’t see herself in the kid, like a fucking carbon copy.

  “Hey, you called me remember?” She turned to leave the room and I saw that half her ass was sticking out of the bottoms of her shorts.

  A check of my watch told me it was at least a half an hour before the baby’s naptime. Hopefully, I could hold out that long.

  That was one of the perks of working from home. I get to nail my wife whenever I want; and now with the three oldest out of the house, it’s pretty much wherever too.

  I found a way to multitask and let my daughter gnaw on my shirt while I made my business call. That kept her occupied for the five and a half minutes I needed. And by the time I hung up, she was starting to droop.

  “Let’s go get you some juice before naptime.”

  “No.” She shook her head wildly and prepared to argue me to death. She hates taking naps, but if she didn’t, the whole house would be in an uproar for the rest of the day.

  I could hear her mother and mine pounding away at the piano keys downstairs. It always gave me a feeling of warmth when those two were together like that, because I know that my girl was happy.

  A lot had changed in the last six years. For instance, true to my word, I’ve never let her return to her birth home and my kids damn sure have never been.

  Her dad and brother understood, and made the trip out here as often as they could, which was usually every other month or so.

  It had taken Miranda marrying her sister’s stalker and almost getting her killed by sneaking him onto the property that night to make Cynthia open her eyes. But by then it was too late.

  I wasn’t sure if Maxie had been interested in reconciliation. I never gave her the choice, but in all these years she hasn’t seemed to suffer for lack of the other woman in her life. If she had, I would of course have given her what she wanted, or tried to.

  But I couldn’t bear to have her around. As far as I was concerned, she was just as bad as Sophia and
Roger, maybe worse.

  Since that dreadful night, my wife has accused me time and again of going overboard, but a man has the right to protect what’s his.

  If she knew half of what I’ve done to protect them, there would be hell to pay. She doesn’t know for instance that both she and the kids have been tagged, or that every time she leaves the house I can track her in whichever vehicle she chooses.

  That fuck Roger was still behind bars, but his time for release was coming up soon. Apparently, you didn’t get life in prison for stalking.

  He’d spent most of the first year in the prison infirmary, but had since been moved into general, where his life was not as cushy as it once was.

  Turns out he comes from a very well to do family, who had done everything in their power to get him off with a couple months in a psych ward.

  When it was brought home to them that he was safer behind bars, they’d relented. Not to mention the fact that I was willing to spend more money than they had, to ensure that he paid the price.

  I’d already done everything I needed to, to make sure he never sees the light of day. As soon as he’s released, he’s headed straight to a mental institution, where he would be kept for at least ten years. After that, if he’s still alive, I’ll figure something else out.

  The upcoming stint in the hospital was more his doing than mine though, since he was still a raving lunatic who kept screaming that my wife belonged to him. Sometimes I wish I’d just killed the fucker anyway, but what’s done is done.

  It had taken some doing but I’d paid where I needed to-to ensure her safety. I don’t think she’s even thought of him in the last couple of years, which is exactly what I wanted.

  One good thing came out of that whole sordid mess. When it came to light that his sister had played a part in finding that crazy fuck and telling him who Maxie really was, Thomas had cut all ties with her.

  So now, instead of the nice little facility she’d been taken to in the beginning, she was now a resident in one of those state run places. Something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, but somehow I could live with.

  Jenny was now modeling fulltime and was on her second divorce or so I’d heard from Mike and Janet, while Miranda was still at home with her mother and father, a shell of herself.

  Personally, I think the bitch is crazy too, but I don’t really care as long as she stays away from me and mine.

  I fed the baby her juice, or rather, she reclined against my chest with the toes of one foot in her hand and a Sippy-cup in the other.

  I knew the routine; as soon as she started dozing off, she’ll fight sleep as long as she could. First, she’d try to talk my ear off with her gibberish, which I was supposed to understand, or she’d have a fit.

  Then she’d choose four or five books to read, of which she’d barely make it through half of one.

  I went through the lineup as I did almost everyday and realized not for the first time, that I would rather be here doing this, than anywhere else.

  After I put her down, I went in search of her mother. I could no longer hear the piano going, as I made my way downstairs with the monitor in hand.

  She didn’t tour as much as she once did, though she still did a few shows each year.

  I think she needed that, as much as I needed the two days in the office every once in a while.

  I didn’t have to do or say anything about her travelling the globe after we were married. After each pregnancy, she had grown less and less inclined to travel.

  The kids always stayed behind with me when they were younger, unless I could get away, and then we’d all go as a family.

  I had kept the secret promise I’d made to myself, and spent a part of every day making sure that she was happy, trying to make up for all that she’d missed with a bitch for a mother.

  It had taken me the first two years to ease up on my obsession with her safety. Since the kids came, it was now evenly split.

  “Where’s your partner in crime?” She was busy putting away the sheet music that she used to teach mom, as well as our kids and Mike and Janet’s, how to play.

  “Nap time, how is our problem child?”

  “My kid’s not a problem, I just put her down.” I showed her the monitor.

  As soon as she closed the bench I grabbed her hand and pulled her from the room. She laughed and called me a letch because she knew where this was headed.

  “I have to start my sauce, I wanted to make spaghetti and meatballs for the boys and you know how long my homemade sauce takes.”

  “You should’ve thought of that before you put on those shorts.” Six years and each time I unwrap her I still get that jolt.

  We were barely through the bedroom door before I was tearing at her clothes with my mouth covering hers, and she had her hand down the front of my jeans, that she’d unzipped, with my cock in her hand.

  I love these stolen moments with her. They remind me of our first year together when it was just us before the babies came along.

  Her taste still drives me crazy and her body, now a little softer, still has the power to weaken my knees.

  When her shorts were around her ankles, and her panties were in shreds around her knees, I picked her up and held her against the wall.

  “Take me out baby.” She fished my dick out of my pants and opened her legs wider to accept me.

  I closed my eyes so that nothing could take away from that feeling I always get when I first enter her. That overwhelming feeling of lust and love that always grabs me by the throat whenever I get my hands on her.

  She felt hotter inside somehow. I know her body so well that I notice every nuance, no matter how small.

  The light went off in my head as I recalled each time I’d felt this heat inside her in the past. I pulled back after my cock was buried in her to the hilt, looking down into her eyes to read them.

  I wanted to see if she knew and was waiting to tell me, or if, as before, she had no idea.

  “You’re pregnant.” She stopped struggling to get even closer to me. “I am not.”

  I didn’t laugh at the panic on her face. I knew from whence it came. After Alyssa, we had both said no more kids; that one was going to be a handful until puberty at least.

  But since neither of us wanted to do anything about birth control, me because I refuse to have anything between me and the softness of her pussy, and she, because I refused to let her ingest or inject anything into her body.

  “Jackson...”

  “Don’t worry, it won’t be that bad.” She whined and buried her face in my chest. Poor baby, the kid really had met her match.

  THE END