Fixing Fate: A Pleasant Valley Novel

by Anna Brooks

  “My grandpa fucked with fate…”

  “And we fixed it.”

  “Oh, my God.”

  “I know!” He squeezes my cheeks together and roughly kisses me. “I want to pick you up so badly right now, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

  I want that too. “This is unbelievable.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Wanna come to the office with me and see if I can dig up the old blueprints?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  Chapter 25

  Mellie

  Three weeks later…

  “Honey, I’m fine, promise.”

  “Okay. If something changes, call me. I’ll jet and be there in a heartbeat.”

  “You worry too much.”

  “Never.”

  “Go.” I shoo him away, but he ignores me.

  “Kiss me one more time, and then I’ll leave.”

  Playfully rolling my eyes, I wrap my arms around his neck. “If I have to.”

  “Don’t act like you don’t love my mouth.” He descends on me, and like he always does, he makes me forget the world. After successfully weakening my knees, he pulls back and gives me a peck on the nose. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “’Kay.”

  I watch until he pulls out of the driveway, then I grab my purse. “Wish me luck, Mousie.” She meows at me in response.

  Before I get in my car, I take a deep breath. “You can do this,” I tell my reflection in the rearview mirror. Smith thinks I’m going for a final checkup, but I lied. My last one was a week ago. I’m so nervous, because I’ve never lied to him and I hate it. And, I’m afraid it will hurt really, really bad.

  I push the fear aside and drive to my destination. When I pull up to the address I was given, I cringe a little at the condition of the building. But when I’d searched for a tattoo artist, his name had come up, and this was the only appointment he had available due to a cancellation.

  Getting out of the car, I take a deep breath and walk to the door. Right as I step inside, a man looks up from the couch where he’s sitting.

  “Hey. Are you Mellie?”

  “Yes. Vaughn?”

  “Yup. If you’re ready, we can start right away.”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  I always thought tattoo artists had head-to-toe tattoos, but apparently, I was wrong. He definitely has a lot, but an entire arm is bare. Who knows, maybe he’s covered everywhere else.

  He leads me to a room and gestures for me to put my purse on a chair. “Where did you say you wanted it?”

  “I think on my hip.”

  When he chuckles, it makes his eyes light up. “You think?”

  “No. I know. I know I want it on my hip. I’m sorry.” I wring my fingers together. “I’m nervous.”

  “It’s okay.” He pats the black vinyl seat. “Hop up and lie down.”

  I do as he says and flinch when the cold material touches the back of my leg.

  “Can you roll the top of your shorts down and pull your shirt up a bit?”

  I take a breath and do as he asks.

  “You didn’t change your mind about the font or anything, did you?”

  “No.”

  He rubs my skin with some cold liquid, and I shiver. “Sorry.”

  “No worries.”

  I push my nervousness aside and focus on what he’s doing. He puts on a pair of black gloves and grabs a piece of paper from the small desk. He meticulously positions it before he sets it on my skin, presses it down, and then peels it away. His head tilts back and forth a few times before he hands me a mirror. “That look okay?”

  With a shaky hand, I take the mirror and study the single word. It has so much more meaning than a possessive term. The first time Smith kissed me, he said that’s what he was to me. And deep down, I know it’s what I am to him. Yours isn’t just a word; it’s my symbol to him that I’m in this for the long haul. He’s mine, and I’m his. “You’re going to add to the background, right?”

  “Yeah, I’m just freehanding that. It’ll look like you asked—a broken heart pieced back together.

  “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  I get another smile and kick myself in the ass for thinking about how damn attractive this man is. Here I am getting a tattoo to symbolize my love for Smith, and I’m blushing at another man. Guess that means I’m starting to heal.

  When he presses his foot to the pedal, and the first vibration hits my skin, I jump. “Sorry.”

  “No biggie. Take a breath.”

  Breathe.

  “Tell me if you need a break, okay?”

  “Yup.”

  I close my eyes and try to take myself to my happy place. This time, though, it’s not a beach with nothingness surrounding me. It’s Smith. It’s his voice and his smile and his eyes. It’s the way he makes me feel beautiful and safe. It’s waking up each morning next to a man who literally took a bullet for me. It’s sitting on the deck and watching the sunrise and knowing that each day will be better than the last.

  It’s also realizing that I am more than my past. I live my life the way I want to now. I am not a victim anymore but a survivor and a goddamned warrior. Smith casually left the business card out for the therapist, and I begrudgingly called her.

  Five years ago, the woman supposed to help me made me feel as if my emotions weren’t valid. Like I should just get over what happened. She taught me how to count backward from ten when I had a panic attack, but that was it.

  I’ve only talked to Dr. Reynolds on the phone, since she’s back in Chicago, but for some reason, she has made the time for me. She’s made me look at things in an entirely new light and gives me hope I can live a normal life. Things are still a little fresh, but being hopeful is much preferred over feeling helpless.

  “Okay, you’re done.”

  “What, really?”

  “Yeah, it’s been an hour, babe.” He hands me the mirror again. “Take a look.”

  When the full image reflects in the glass, I almost drop the handle. “Wow. It’s beautiful.” Somehow, he intertwined the cracks and the letters and made it as if it’s one piece. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. I’m glad you like it.” He covers it with plastic and tape and goes over the care instructions. I hand him some cash, a lot more than I thought a small tattoo would be, with a large tip, and finally hop off the table.

  “Thank you so much. I really do love it.”

  He doesn’t respond but nods toward the hallway. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Just as we step out of the room, his phone rings. He pulls it out and looks at the number. Brows furrowed, he hesitates to answer it.

  “I’ll just walk myself out. It’s okay.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. Thanks again.”

  He turns his back and answers his phone in a clipped tone. My flats squeak as I walk through the dimly lit space. When I get outside, the bright light burns my eyes, and I squint. Digging through my purse, I grasp my keys and run into someone. “Sorry.” I look up at a very large man, and my eyes glance on either side of him where two other men are standing. Both with baseball hats and dreads.

  The tall guy in the middle laughs and points at the door. “Tell Vaughn I’ll be right in.” The other two men nod at him and go into the nondescript building. “Girl like you shouldn’t be alone in these parts.”

  “I, um, I’m not familiar with the area yet, really.” Even though he seems nice, I step back.

  He smiles, and a gold tooth shines against the sun. “Go ahead and get in your car.”

  I scurry to the driver’s side, and right as I open the door, he speaks again. “Tell Smith I still owe him.”

  The muscles in my neck snap, pulling my head back. “What?”

  “He’ll know what it means.” With those confusing parting words, he heads inside.

  My nerves are jumbled, and my mind is disoriented, but I get in my car and drive away. The
entire drive back, I’m trying to figure out what the hell that guy meant.

  Smith went to the office today, so he’ll be home early. I know I have a few hours before he gets home, but I want to make dinner so it’s ready for him. I’ve loved cooking for him; it’s something I never knew I would actually enjoy, but I like pleasing him.

  I pull into the driveway and open the garage so I can slide into my spot. Smith has me in the habit of staying in my locked car until the door is down all the way, so I wait the thirty seconds before I go inside.

  In the middle of the island are the dried-up flowers from Erik. He had them delivered the day he left. Smith doesn’t seem too worried about him, but I am. The last time I saw him was in his bedroom early in the morning that day. When Smith and I got home from pancakes, Erik was gone. No note or anything. Apparently, that’s his usual MO, but I don’t like it. I’d grown to care about him, and I hate not knowing that he’s okay. When the flowers arrived and the card simply said, Thank you for everything –Erik, I knew he wasn’t coming back.

  I wish he would, though. I wish I knew where he was and that he wasn’t hurting, but he’s shut his phone off and just disappeared. Smith says he’ll come around again when he’s ready, so until then, there’s nothing we can do.

  After throwing in a roast and vegetables, I jog upstairs to change my clothes. I dig in the back of my sock drawer and pull out the bundled up hunter green lace. When Jay went home, he paid movers to pack up my stuff and deliver it here, so I didn’t have to buy an entirely new wardrobe. Last week, I think it was right after my phone session with Dr. Reynolds, I had the urge to buy new lingerie. Or any lingerie, for that matter. I’ve never owned anything that I would consider sexy, so I hopped in my car and made a trip to the mall.

  It was liberating to look in a mirror and think, for the first time ever, that the person looking back at me wasn’t a wreck anymore. My hair was shinier and my eyes brighter. Even my skin was smoother. It’s amazing what the love of a good man can do.

  I head to the bathroom and take my clothes off then look into the mirror. The tape is peeling off, and even though Vaughn said to leave the plastic over it for a couple of hours, I rip it off and toss it in the trashcan.

  Trying to get a closer look, I angle my head down directly at the tattoo. My fingers trace around the outside of the heart, my red skin darker than the light shading Vaughn used to fill in the pieces. I accidentally touch the ink and flinch at how sore it is. “Ow.” I can’t stop staring at it. My neck is sore from looking down, so I roll the vertebrae in my neck until I’m looking directly at Smith’s face in the mirror.

  Wordlessly, he hitches me up and carries me bridal style to the bed and tosses me on my back.

  “What did you do?” He kneels between my legs and traces over the letters with his fingertip, but when he does it, it’s not painful. “I love it, baby.”

  “I wanted to surprise you.”

  “I’m surprised.” He kisses the skin above and below but doesn’t bring his head up. Instead, he continues moving his lips against me, and after a minute, he sits up. “Who’s yours?” He reaches behind his head and pulls his black t-shirt off.

  “You are.”

  “Who’s mine?” His hands go to the buttons on his jeans. He undoes the buckle then kicks them off.

  “Me.”

  “You didn’t go to the doctor?” He climbs over me and kisses between my breasts.

  “No. My last appointment was last week.”

  His tongue slides up, and when he reaches my neck, he sucks the skin there before kissing it. “You’re a sneaky girl.”

  “You’ve done so much for me, and I just... I wanted to do something to show you how much you mean to me, and the first time you kissed me, you said that you wanted to be mine—”

  “I remember what I said.”

  “And I always heard that if you get someone’s name, it’s bad luck, so instead of Smith, I got yours.”

  “It’s perfect.” He kisses me on the lips this time, and when he slides his tongue along my closed lips, I part them. He growls into my mouth and deepens the kiss.

  I push him a little, and he pulls back. “Fuck, sorry.”

  “I want you to make love to me.”

  For once, he’s speechless. After all the times he’s said such beautiful words, I finally leave him speechless. Score.

  “I know you’ve been holding back, and I appreciate you giving me time. But I’m ready. I’ve been ready. I was ready before everything happened three weeks ago.”

  “Are you... are you sure?” He licks his lips and works his jaw back and forth.

  “Yes.”

  He’s back on me before I can even breathe, and I laugh against his mouth. “God, Mellie.” When he kisses down my body, I shiver. “Cold?”

  “Hot.”

  “Yeah, you are. So damn hot. Your tits are the perfect size.” He cups them, presses them together, and kisses my nipples. When he lets them go, his tongue makes a trail down before he nips at the skin right next to my tattoo. “This is so damn sexy. And the fact that I’m the only one who will ever see it—”

  “If I wear a swimsuit, other people will see it.”

  “Wear t-shirts then. This is for my eyes only. This is mine, you’re mine.” His voice cracks, and I push up on my elbows to see his face. “This heart, whose pieces are put back together, is mine to love and cherish and protect.” He slides lower and pushes my legs, so that my knees fall open. The very tips of his fingers slide through my slick folds, and when he inserts a finger, I tighten around him. “And this.” He adds another finger and pumps in and out. “This pussy is mine. I’m the only one who will ever get to touch it. Kiss it.” He leans down and kisses me, but when he pulls back, he sucks.

  “Oh, God.”

  “I’m the only one who will ever get to love it, won’t I, Mellie? Nobody else but me gets to fuck you, right?”

  “Only you.”

  “Nobody else gets to see how beautiful you are when you come.” He presses his thumb against my clit and plays me like a violin, hitting the peak in a matter of seconds. I push my heels into the mattress and pant as I’m slowly coming down. He kisses the apex of my thighs and sits up to remove his boxer briefs. When he then rolls to his back, I raise an eyebrow at him.

  “Climb up.”

  The beautiful thing about Smith; I never question him. He always has my best interests and feelings and pleasure at heart, so I don’t hesitate to straddle him. I rest my forehead against his and look into his soulful eyes.

  “I never thought I’d love someone as much as I love you.” He reaches between us and rubs the tip of his dick against me, resting it at my entrance. His eyes roll back before they focus on me again. “You have the power when we’re in this bed, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He moves his hands up and cups my cheeks. “I’m all yours, baby.”

  Chapter 26

  Smith

  When she sinks down on me, I swear I think I will die. She’s so damn tight I can barely breathe. Death by pussy. She licks her lips and moves up a little then back down. When she stops, I open my eyes, not even realizing I squeezed them shut.

  “Please tell me it’s almost all the way in.”

  When laughter erupts from my stomach, it makes her move and sink down a little more, then that makes me sound like a damn porn star with how loud I just groaned. “No. You’re halfway there.”

  “Really?” She looks down and curses. “It feels good, but when I try to go more it hurts, and I don’t think I can.” When she tries again, she winces.

  “It’s okay. Just do whatever makes you feel good.”

  With her hands on my chest, she rises up then slides back down again. I struggle to get words out. “You feel phenomenal, baby.”

  “You do, too.”

  Her hips move a little faster, and without warning, she slams herself all the way down, sheathing me in pure euphoria. “Fuck!” I instinctively thrust up, and she falls forward.


  “You okay, Mellie?”

  She doesn’t answer.

  “Look at me, sunshine.”

  Her face tilts up, and tears fill her eyes. “Sorry. It hurt a little more than I thought it would.”

  “Don’t you ever say you’re sorry in this bed again.”

  “I want you to like it, too.”

  “I do. My God, I’ve never felt anything better. I swear it. You’re so close to making me come just by sitting still; it’s embarrassing.”

  She kisses my pec and nips at the skin there. “I guess I’d better move then.”

  “Yeah, that’d be good.”

  Her movements are calculated now. Her clit rubs against my pelvic bone, and she grinds herself down. This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever been a part of in my life. Her above me, so damn beautiful, trusting me enough and loving me enough for me to be her first. And only. I’m her only.

  Her thighs shake, and her movements become more frantic.

  “You like that?”

  “Yes,” she pants.

  “Are you close, baby? You gonna come for me again? ’Cause I don’t know how much longer I can last. Your pussy’s so damn wet and tight—”

  “Yes. Now.”

  I grab her hips and pound into her from below, no longer able to control myself. When she cries out my name, I fall right over the edge with her. Both of our bodies sink into the mattress, and I suddenly realize we didn’t use a condom. The thought of having a baby with her doesn’t scare me in the least. But she may not feel the same, and I’m a fucking asshole for not protecting her.

  “I didn’t use a condom,” I whisper into her ear before kissing her in the same place.

  “I know.”

  “You’re okay with that?”

  “I am. I couldn’t imagine anything better than having a baby with you.”

  A triumphant and primal version of me wants to pound on my chest, but instead, I settle for saying, “Me neither.”

  * * *

  “You’re going to spoil me.” I shovel another bite of meat and potatoes into my mouth.