Jump has done nothing but scream and writhe on his bed. He’s torn countless sets of sheets, to the point that Kennedy stopped bothering to remake it hours ago. Shivering, sweating, and full body shakes began early on day six and haven’t shown any signs of easing up yet.
The last time I checked on him, Jump’s eyes were frantic, but he didn’t move from the fetal position he’d curled himself into. His face is drawn and pale, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s lost a good ten pounds if not more since all of this started. Not that I’m surprised after the number of times he’s been sick. It doesn’t help that Jump’s still barely eating, Kennedy having resorted to force feeding him a few times much to my brother's disgust.
Jump has only managed to rasp out a few words that aren’t “fuck you,” “kill me,” and “I hate you.” Kennedy keeps reminding me that this isn’t the version of Jump we all know and love and to be patient. According to her it shouldn’t be too much longer until the worst has passed, but with every hour he’s not getting better I’m beginning to think he never will.
The saddest part of the whole thing is that my mind has started to play tricks on me. I’m continuously asking myself if by leaving his addiction untreated for so long I’m to blame for the pain he’s in? What if I got him help sooner? Would that have made a difference, or would we still be right where we are today? Should I have just taken him to rehab years ago when I knew his habit had begun to spiral out of control?
In the end, it boils down to one truth. One hard to accept fact. This, all of it, is my fault.
I was the one who gave Jump his first taste of a lifestyle he came to need. And no matter how you or I rationalize it, there’s no changing that. Sure, it was for a good reason – a fucking good reason – but without that first hit, Jump may never have known the oblivion he came to crave.
Add to that, I knew when he progressed to harder shit. I knew he was smoking meth, snorting coke, and dropping E’s. Speed, pot, Vicodin, LSD, Jump tried it all, and I knew about it but never stopped him. Telling him to stop, to lay off, and warning him that his heart couldn’t take it doesn’t count. I should have done more, I should have forced the point, but I didn’t do that either.
The final straw for me, what tipped me over the edge, this time, wasn’t what Sarge said; it was finding Jump’s newly acquired stash of heroin. I can’t be sure if he’d started using it yet, but I sure as hell knew I wasn’t going to let him cross the final line into a world I’d never be able to get him back from if I could help it.
I didn’t make this decision lightly. It might make me sound like a pussy, but the choice to tell our brothers what was going on, that Jump was a strung out junkie, and I was a whore caused me a fuck ton of anxiety. But what’s done is done, and I’m glad for it.
“Cash,” Kennedy calls from the kitchen.
Walking over to her, I grasp her hips from behind and run a series of open-mouthed kisses up the side of her neck.
“What’s up, gorgeous?”
Feeling her shudder beneath my hands gives me a sense of power different to the control I’ve exercised over women I’ve taken to bed. The things I make Kennedy feel are between us. Only us.
Kennedy hasn’t been with anyone by choice before, so she’s missed out on how good things can be when you’re in a trusting, consensual relationship. On the flip side, I haven’t been with a woman I’ve wanted to make love to before. I’ve never wanted to explore a woman as thoroughly as I want to explore every inch of Kennedy, and I don’t think I’ve ever been willing to wait for than a few minutes for a woman to drop her panties for me. But with Kennedy, I’ll wait forever if that’s how long it takes her to trust me enough to get us there.
In the past, all I had to do was crook my finger, and I’d have my choice of women to take home. I didn’t even necessarily have to buy them a drink to get them to spread their legs, giving me whatever I was asking for. And while that worked for me then, it isn’t what I want now.
I’ll always crave control, that’s just part of my core make up now, but with Kennedy, I don’t want to dominate her and leave as soon as my cock is sated. What I want with her is deeper, something I didn’t know I was capable of wanting, let alone needing. With her, I want it all. I want a relationship, marriage, and eventually babies. I want fucking everything. Now, I just have to bide my time until I can convince her she wants the same.
Kennedy turns giving me a sweet smile before busying herself peeling carrots.
“He’s sleeping right now, but I want to get this soup on before he wakes up again. He’ll need a shower since he hasn’t had one for hours, and I need to change his sheets and start a load of washing,” she tells me.
Caressing her hip, I repeat,
“What do you need me to do, gorgeous?”
“Oh,” she sighs. “Sorry. I meant to ask if you can pull some of the boxes out of the second guest bedroom for me. Emily has been great with Talon, and he loves spending time with Sarge, but I miss him, and I was hoping you’d be okay with him staying here.”
I’d do anything for this woman, doesn’t she know that already? I won’t lie and say that Talon being in the same house as my unpredictable, detoxing brother doesn’t concern me, but Kennedy’s his mom, so I figure if she thinks it’s okay, then it’s fine by me.
To be honest, I miss the kid too. He wormed his way under my skin with his easy going nature that reminded me so much of Jump when he was a kid. And before I knew it, I found myself loving Talon, almost as much as his mother.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart. You need me to do that now, or do you want some help down here?”
“I’m almost finished here, but if you could listen out for your brother and let me know when he wakes up, that would be good.”
I place one last kiss on her shoulder before pulling back and slapping her ass firmly. The harsh indrawn breath she takes tells me she loves when I get rough with her, which works for me in a fucking big way. Knowing that I can spank her delectably round ass, pinch her cherry red nipples, and use my teeth on her turns me on like nothing else.
“You got it,” I growl, adjusting my erection so that it’s possible for me to move without causing myself further discomfort.
You think I’d be used to this by now after walking around sporting a semi for the past week, but you’d be wrong. Every time Kennedy looks at me a certain way, brushes past me leaving her scent lingering in the air, or kisses me deeply, I’m harder than fucking granite. Sometimes it doesn’t even take that, though. Sometimes all she has to do is breathe in the same room as me, and I’m a walking two by four.
“Oh, and Cash,” she grins, drawing my gaze to her perfect, pouty lips. “I don’t think I want to wait anymore.”
And there you have it folks, my hard on is rock solid, and once again there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Except, this time, Kennedy’s words have an electric undercurrent thrumming just under the surface of my skin. She’s telling me she’s ready to take that next step, the step we’ve been holding off on since I got her off with my fingers and sliding her up and down the length of my cock.
A deep rumble leaves my throat as I close the distance between us and pin her up against the counter. Grinding my erection against her, I groan,
“Do you know what you’re doing to me, gorgeous? Knowing that you’re ready to take my cock has me wanting to tear your clothes off, lay you out on the dining table and feast on your beautiful pussy until you come all over my face. And when I’m finished eating you, I want to slam my cock into you so hard you’ll feel me for days.”
“Cash,” her voice trembles, not with fear, but with arousal.
“Mark me, gorgeous. I will have that tight, hot cunt wrapped around my cock soon, but it won’t be when we’re babysitting my fuck up of a brother,” I warn her. “Your kid will be here later, and when I have you for the first time of many, I plan on making you scream, something I don’t think your boy will appreciate.”
Kennedy’s beautiful storm gray e
yes cloud over as she lets that sink in, her body practically vibrating with want and need. Since I’ve apparently rendered her speechless, I go on to say,
“I told you the day I made you come for me, that I had plans for us, and I still do. They might have been on hold, but I didn’t cancel them. I need to sort my brother out, get your kid settled, and talk to Boss about getting some more time off, and you need to make a decision about what we talked about the other day,” I instruct, reminding her that she hasn’t given me an answer yet.
One of the few conversations Kennedy and I have had that hasn’t revolved around Jump was when I asked her to quit her job at Crest Ridge. I phrased it in a way that alluded to me giving her a choice, but in reality, I called Fury the day before and gave her notice.
I know she’s not going to take the news well when I finally tell her, but I plan on doing it when I’m buried inside her which will hopefully give me the advantage I need. My woman is fiercely independent, and my high-handed tactics, no matter how well meaning they are, will piss her off to no end, of that, I have no doubt.
The fact is, I can’t go without seeing her for more than an hour at most, let alone a whole day. Having her here in my house twenty-four hours a day has taught me a lot about her in a short period of time. Kennedy was made for this shit; taking care of people and being a wife and mother. If I had my way, I would have her knocked up and barefoot in my kitchen already.
I’m not sexist, not in the slightest. Kennedy can do anything she sets her mind to, and if working satisfied her the way I know caring for the people she loves does, then I wouldn’t stop her. But it doesn’t. Kennedy’s real passion lies in doing the one thing she’s never had the opportunity to; being a stay at home mom.
For years she’s worked her ass off to support herself and her son, often going without so that she can provide Talon with everything he needs. She doesn’t have to do that anymore, though. Kennedy has me, and with me comes Jump and the MC. I’m more than happy to support her financially and plan on doing just that as long as she doesn’t kill me before I get the chance to explain myself.
Clearing her throat, Kennedy looks up at me and frowns. She props a hand on her hip, using the other to push me back a step.
“You know, I really should be thinking about all the ways I want to hurt you, but I’m just too damn tired right now to bother. I will say this, though; you have brass balls for thinking that you could hand in my resignation without me finding out, Cash.”
“Gorgeous,” I mutter.
“Don’t gorgeous me, Marshall Collins,” she snaps, using my full name to make a point. What she doesn’t know is that it turns me the fuck on when she calls me that. “What the fuck were you thinking? I mean, you do realize that my son and I have to eat, right? And just to say, but that’s kinda difficult when I don’t have a goddamn paycheck coming in.”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I concede,
“I should have told you, but put yourself in my shoes, Kennedy. Fifteen years ago, I found you in an alley being attacked, you refuse my help which I completely understand, I would have too, and then I stay with you until you fall asleep. I might have left during the night, Kennedy, but I came back to check on you the next day and you were gone. I never saw you again, and believe me, I fucking looked. The next time I see you is here in Furnace where I’ve been living for over a decade. You walk straight into Rough Shod, ask a bunch of fucking strangers to help you find your son, and then take off to look for him yourself when you should have waited for someone to go with you. You know what comes after that, gorgeous. You know exactly how I found you the next time I saw you, so don’t stand there and get your panties in a twist because I want to be the man who has the privilege of taking care of you. Kennedy, babe, you get yourself into more trouble than any woman I’ve ever met, and the worst part is, you’re not even going out looking for it. Trouble finds you, and I want to make sure when it does, I’m right there beside you making sure you’re fucking safe.”
By the end of my admission, Kennedy has tears streaming down her face that I wipe away with the pad of my thumb.
“Dammit. Why does what you say have to be so damn perfect when I’m trying to be mad at you?”
Chuckling at her cute scowl, I pull her into my arms, wrapping them around her waist.
“I don’t know, gorgeous. I guess you’re just lucky like that.”
“Hmm,” she hums low in the back of her throat. “I’m not sure whether it’s me who’s the lucky one or you seeing as a speech like that is bound to get you out of hot water.”
“Either way works for me.”
Kennedy cups my face in her palms and looks deep into my eyes.
“I’ll forgive you this time, but don’t do anything like that again, Cash. I need to be able to trust you; going behind my back will jeopardize the trust we’ve already built, and neither you or I want that. So promise me, Cash. Promise me you’ll talk to me before making decisions that directly, or indirectly affect me.”
“I promise, gorgeous,” I say without hesitation. And the funny thing is, I mean it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
~ Jump ~
“Life rule: If you can’t reach it, you don’t need it.”
– Jump’s new life motto
It hurts. Jesus Christ, everything hurts so fucking bad. With every breath I take the pain steals the oxygen from my lungs. My eyes can’t focus for shit, and for a moment there, I honestly thought I was fucking blind. Muscles I haven’t used in days ache, burning with an intensity I’ve never felt before, and my legs refuse to cooperate more often than not.
People come and go from the room I’ve been holed up in for nine days, but a lot of the time I can barely make them out. They whisper and mutter words I’ve got no hope of comprehending seeing as all of my non-vital functions – in this case, hearing – have gone on strike. But I don’t need to hear them to know who’s been taking care of me.
Kennedy and Cash haven’t left me alone for more than a few minutes at a time over the course of the last week and a bit. Sometimes they bring food, water, or a change of clothes to wear after one of them helps me shower. Other times, Kennedy sits beside me and strokes my hair, laying a cold washcloth on my forehead as she tells me long-winded stories about Talon as a kid.
She’s patient and sweet as hell throughout my desperate ramblings and tantrums demanding she give me something to take the edge off. And I’m not proud to admit this, but once or twice I’ve been so close to hurting her that I’ve had to scramble out of bed to put some space between us.
If I were in my right frame of mind, I can guarantee I would never, not in my darkest nightmares lay a hand on a woman. But I’m not in my right mind; I’m way the fuck detached from it and reality right now, which is why I kept my distance from Kennedy the next three times she came to check on me.
They can’t understand the enormity of what they’ve done, so I can’t blame them entirely, but I need the drugs they stole from me back. I’m desperate to feel normal again, whole even. Because without them, I’m not. I’m lost in a sea of despair and agony, that has nothing to do with physical pain. And after what I just did to Kennedy, I need them now more than ever.
My heart beats frantically as Kennedy stands up and walks to the door. I want to run to her, grab her hand and stop her from leaving, but my body refuses to do my bidding.
Kennedy shocks the shit out of me when she doesn’t open the door but locks it instead. Her eyes still reflect the concern I’m used to seeing in them these days, but now, there’s something else. Something more.
“Jump,” she stammers, wringing her hands together nervously. “We need to talk about what just happened, but first, I need you to listen to me. Do you think you’re up to that? Just listening for now, I mean?”
After everything she’s done for me over the last week, I’d do anything for this woman. My voice is rough when I finally answer her, having not been used for much aside from screaming or puking for days.
“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that,” I agree.
“Okay,” she replies, sitting on the bed beside me, taking my hand in hers.
Speaking first, I say,
“I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. I know I can’t take it back, but I need you to know if I could, I would,” and mean it.
Kennedy nods her head and gives me a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. I can’t fathom why she’s still in the same room as me after what I did, let alone attempting to make me feel better by talking this out. I don’t deserve it, and I definitely don’t deserve her.
“I know you would. I’m not angry at you, Jump,” she assures me. “You surprised me, and maybe scared me a little, but you didn’t hurt me, I promise.”
“Still never should have happened,” I grunt. “You should get Cash to check on me from now on, Kenny. This just proves I’m not safe to be around at the moment. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt because I do something fucking stupid, and there’s a very real possibility of that.”
*****
Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 2: Gage ~ Cash ~ Knight (Vengeance MC series Book 8) Page 41