Bite & Release 3: Riley

by CORY CYR

  All the remnants of Gray’s illness were gone, along with his dog bed and food bowls. I stared up at the ceiling, fighting the tears and pain. How long would I feel like this? Gray’s suffering had ended. Mine had just begun.

  I heard humming coming from the baby’s room.

  Gabe was rocking in the blue chair we had purchased. “You’re up. I was afraid I’d have to call your parents. God forbid. As happy as I am my mother’s here, calling her would have been a nightmare.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Well, my water broke seventy minutes ago,” she announced with a grin.

  “Wait. What? Jesus, why didn’t you get my ass up?”

  “Calm down. I called the doctor, and she said since the contractions aren’t close together yet, I can take my time getting to the hospital. Well, within reason.”

  “How’s the pain?” I asked, feeling as though I was the worst husband around.

  “Not bad. But I think we should go. I have a feeling delivering a litter of kittens is much different than an actual baby,” she teased.

  “Very funny. I’ll grab your go bag and start the car.”

  Gabe cleared her throat as she perused my body. “Maybe get dressed, too.”

  I looked down at my briefs and shook my head.

  I quickly pulled on a shirt and pants and grabbed her overnight suitcase. I started my wife’s car and gingerly helped her in. I would call everyone once she was situated in her room.

  “Are you ready to meet your son?” she asked.

  * * *

  Two Years Later

  I swept my son up in my arms as he giggled.

  “Pop-Pop. Old Pop-Pop.”

  I laughed as Grayson mimicked what I said.

  “You realize your dad’s already freaking out about his age. Having his grandson say that will stop his heart,” Gabe taunted with a sigh as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel.

  We would be welcoming another son in four months. My wife accused me of wanting to have my own boy band.

  The entire family was here for the festivities. This was the first time Holly and Alyx met their nephew and my wife in person. Aunt Trina and Uncle Quinn, as well as the twins, were also here. The entire family was in attendance, even Carrie and her boyfriend.

  I put another gift under the tree. Christmas Eve meant celebrating my dad’s birthday, and this was a biggie. His fiftieth. He began griping about it a year ago, pledging to stay forty-nine forever. I, in turn, threatened to name our next son Seamus. We’d named our first son Grayson. His middle name was Frederick after Gabe’s father. We chose to name our next son Shea Ryan after my parents.

  My parents had bought a house in a more rural area of Fairbanks. My dad worked part time at the clinic, while my mom managed their pit bull sanctuary built a mile from their home. I gave up most weekends, supervising the dogs that were saved from dangerous situations and preparing some for forever homes. Others that could never be adopted were relocated to the rescue in Florida, where they had the space to keep them without having to resort to euthanasia.

  I would have my license in three months. The hours our clinic was open were split between Gabe, another vet, and my dad. Grayson spent his time with my mom or Aunt Trina until Gabe found out she was pregnant again. Carrie flew in for all holidays, so she was here quite often. She also cared for my son when we weren’t here. I think it took my dad a long time to trust her with the baby, but once Carrie had a significant other, he seemed more settled with time.

  My parents walked in pulling a red wagon filled with packages.

  “Buy out the toy store again?” I joked.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Not all of these are from us. Some belong to Carrie,” my dad boasted.

  “Traitor,” Gabe’s mother responded.

  “Nicest thing you’ve ever called me,” he quipped.

  My son ran to my dad. I think he was mesmerized by the tattoos. “Old Pop-Pop.”

  I looked away, amused.

  “Very funny,” he said, cradling his grandson as he punched me in the arm.

  “Hey, no violence while you’re holding my grandson. Save that for after he’s in bed.” My mom spoke up playfully.

  “Maybe your next son will show more respect for his elders.” Dad snickered.

  “Hey, blame Riley. Your grandson repeats everything that comes out of his mouth,” Gabe commented.

  “Let’s hope not everything, especially since he learned his first words from his dad,” Mom piped up.

  “That’s not true. You’re the one with a potty mouth. Don’t believe a word your mom says. Everything I learned from her.”

  I laughed as I remembered growing up in a household built on love and bad language.

  I stared into the fire, which once illuminated my dog’s bed. I couldn’t wait until Grayson was old enough to have his own puppy. Gabe had given her blessing for getting another pittie when he had turned two. But I wanted to wait until he was old enough to understand the responsibility of having a dog. I’d be a better judge of his capabilities after I saw what kind of a big brother he was.

  “So you’re fifty now,” my mom gushed as she took Grayson from my dad.

  “Forty-nine, and I’m sticking to that.”

  “You’re still a younger man. Handsome, fit, and quite appealing to this old lady.”

  “Speaking of fit, I’m ready for my Christmas-Birthday present,” Dad said slyly.

  “I heard that,” I announced as I took my child from my parents. “And also, can I add eww…?”

  I sat next to Gabe, my son in my lap.

  I’d never looked in that box. My wife and her mother had burned the keepsakes in a cathartic fire. The scrapbook that held Carrie’s memories of my dad was now null and void. I think it made the relationship between her and my dad better.

  Around us was my entire family. Laughter, love, and warmth enveloped this room. My life was complete. We not only had our own family, but extended loved ones surrounding us. I was lucky as hell. Blessed.

  I had everything, and this love story began with my mom and dad. They gave me life and a good one at that.

  The End

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  2017 was a rough year. Because of a traumatic accident in August, I was off the grid for six months. As I write this, I am in my tenth month of recovery. I truly thought this book would never be written due to my injuries. However, I persevered, and here we are.

  Writing Bite & Release 3: Riley, the end of the series, was not only difficult physically (I only have use of my left arm/hand), but also emotionally. I hope the many readers that fell in love with Ryan and Shea will adore Riley.

  Now, I realize almost every author has a personal assistant, but no one has one as awesome as mine. Dusty Summerford not only kept me alive via social media while I recovered, but called every few days. I can never thank her enough for her time and support as well as friendship.

  A special shout out to Lynne White, Sherazad Kurwa, Shannon Anderson, Leanna Wallace, and Tiffany Burnett Busbey for having my back while I was gone.

  I also appreciate Kathy Atwell and Marnie Jay for sending me so many private messages to check up on me. Their compassion and support helped me get through some dark times.

  Thanks to my editor, Cassie McCown, for being flexible while I was recovering and Sharon Kay for her usual fabulous formatting.

  Samuel Rousseau was always my choice for Riley’s cover. The minute I saw him, I thought, Hey, he could be Shea and Ryan’s son. I’m so thrilled I finally got to use the photo I bought years ago, taken by the fabulous Brice Hardelin whose photography is amazing.

  For me, well, it’s onward and upward. I have a new series coming out next year, which includes four books, and then we’ll see what the future holds.

  Love you all. Thanks for sticking with me.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Cory began writing music and poetry at an early age. Her love of music became her sole focus and she spent quite a few
years as the lead singer for local rock bands. In high school, she was fascinated with the macabre and started writing science fiction and horror stories so dark they earned her the nickname "Gory Cory."

  After years of writing scary fiction, Cory never thought in a million years she would end up penning sensual tales of younger men/older women. She writes strictly adult material.

  You can find her at: www.authorcorycyr.com