by K. L. Kreig
“I have regrets, Addy. Too many of them. I know it’s probably too late for motherly advice, but don’t follow in my footsteps. Live life to the fullest with no regrets, sweetie. Go after what you want, when you want, with the ferocity of a mother bear, because our life is but a blip on the radar before our time is up.”
My bitterness toward my mother is melting away with each word she speaks. She’s not perfect. She clearly went through things I’ll never know and they molded her into the person she is, like all of our own events do. Like mine did.
I am the woman I am today despite my mother, not because of her. I’m proud of who I’ve become, yet I have my own faults, my own imperfections, and apparently my own demons, which I’ve never acknowledged before. I need to let go of all my fears and put unconditional faith in someone.
And there’s only one person I want that to be.
The only thing I can think about is getting to Luke. It doesn’t matter what drove him away. What matters is that we love each other. And while I can live without Luke, I just don’t want to. He thinks I’m his light, his color, his air. He’s all those things to me and more. I need to talk to him before it’s too late, but I have no idea where he even is.
“Go to your man, Addy.”
“No. I—I just got here.”
She brings up her other shaky swollen hand, cupping my cheek. Her eyes are filled to the brim with salty water; mine are overflowing. “Go. Whatever’s wrong, make it right. Hold onto him tight with both hands and never let go. Then bring him to me so I can meet the man who put that sparkle in your eye before I have to leave.”
My gut feels like it’s being ripped from my insides. I nod, unable to speak. I wish we could have had these moments years ago. I wish I had more time to spend with my mother making good memories to replace the bad. I wish I had tried harder to mend our relationship before it was almost too late.
I kiss and hug my mom, sucking this moment in like a sponge, hoping like hell I’ll get another one.
“I love you, Adeline Catherine Monroe. So, so much,” she breathes in my ear.
I can count on one hand the number of times my mother has said those words to me. But at this second, I don’t care; for the first time in my life, I really feel them. “I love you, Mom,” I whisper on a broken sob.
After I leave, I just sit in my car. It’s quiet, except for my sobs of anguish with the realization that I’m going to lose my mother before I even get to know her. Eric couldn’t have been more right. I am overflowing with remorse right now.
I think back to all my failed relationships and my perception that no one ever put me first. Perhaps I still believe that’s true, but I also didn’t put them first either. I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop…always waiting for them to decide they didn’t want me anymore or to figure out I wasn’t good enough.
But not one day in the last couple of months with Luke have I felt like that. From the time he busted into my apartment, he put me first. He’s always made me feel like I was wanted, like I was good enough. Like I was truly, deeply loved.
And I’m not going to let that feeling go. I’m not going to let him go.
Finally, I pull myself together and make a phone call. I have to get the love of my life back.
I hope it’s not too late.
Chapter 47
When I pull up in the driveway that curves in front of my mom’s house, surprise and elation rush through me. I see her shitty little car before I see her sitting on the front porch steps and my God…she’s breathtaking.
Today she’s wearing a simple light blue sundress and sandals with straps that wrap around her ankles like a Roman goddess. Her dark hair is pulled off to the side, cascading down her right shoulder like a waterfall. She’s never looked more fucking beautiful. Ever.
She stands when she sees me approaching. I feel like I’m walking in slow motion, unable to get to her fast enough. When I get close, I see she’s been crying. Her eyes are bloodshot, her face tear streaked.
She looks sad. Lost.
Exactly like me.
“Hi,” I say quietly, stopping in front of her. She’s standing on the first step, which puts her at my exact height.
“Hi,” she replies just as softly.
Both of us are frozen, unmoving. Unsure. My heart is pounding and my fists are literally balls right now. I’m fighting every instinct in me that screams to yank her into my arms and tell her I’m not letting her go again, but I didn’t know she was coming and I don’t know why she’s here. Is it to say good-bye or that she’s as fucking miserable without me as I am without her?
I have to be honest…if it’s to say good-bye I think I’m gonna lose my shit. I will never accept that things are over between us.
“I didn’t know you were coming or I would have been here. My mom is out for the evening, I think. Have you been here long?” It’s just past six and since we’re in daylight savings, it’s still very light out.
“About an hour. Where were you?” she asks tentatively.
Fuck, I hate this awkwardness between us.
“I was at the cemetery. Visiting my father.” I’ve been there all afternoon. It was cathartic, actually. I didn’t sleep at all last night, replaying my childhood, my life, my decisions and I came to the conclusion that, while I wish they were different, things played out exactly the way they were supposed to for me.
Had I not gone down the path I did, I would never have been in a position to save Livia. She would have died. Gray would be dead inside, my nephews would be but a wish. Most importantly, I’d never have met Addy because I would never have met her brother.
My father’s selfless actions set a series of events into motion that would ultimately save and change the lives of so many. My biggest regret now is I’ll never get a chance to tell him that in person. But I told him today and I know he was listening. I told him all of it. It felt good. I was able to let go of a lot of the guilt I’ve carried for years. About him, about Livia, about the life I took that wasn’t mine to take. I know it will take time for it all to dissipate, but I already feel a lot lighter.
“I’m glad, Luke,” she replies sadly. “You look tired.”
“I am, fireball. I’m so fucking tired.” I’m tired of being without you. I’m tired of fighting you, me, my beasts. I’m tired of doing it all alone.
My eyes lower to her neck where the pendant I gave her lays right below the hollow of her throat. I finger it, almost moaning at the feel of her warm skin underneath my pads. Her chest rises and falls rapidly and a light pink flush starts its ascent upward. When I sweep my gaze back up to her, she’s raptly watching my face, my reaction.
“You wore it,” I whisper. God, why does that make me want to weep like a child?
“Yes.”
“Addy—”
Whatever I was going to say dissolves as a fog of lust settles thickly around us when she leans forward. Her lips touch mine, tentatively seeking, asking permission.
Permission fucking granted.
My restraint snaps, my animal nature taking over in unrestrained fury.
Claim.
Brand.
Own.
She is mine. She’ll always be mine and I’ll do or say anything she needs in order to make things right between us again.
Palming her nape, I deepen the kiss. I invade, I dominate, I take. I tell her with every sweep of my tongue how much I’ve ached without her, how much my heart hurts with love for her, and how I can’t possibly live another second without her in my life. Our breaths and moans and sighs mingle until we’re creating our own sweet symphony.
With my other hand, I pull her body flush with mine, pressing my now stiff cock into her lower belly. The need to sink inside her wet heat this instant is so intense, I want to strip her naked and fuck her right where we stand. I could. No one would see. Instead, I lift her so her long legs wrap around me. Carrying her up the remaining five stairs, I have no choice but to leave the warmth of her mouth as I fum
ble for the house keys.
Her lips don’t leave me. They travel all over my jaw and my neck. Her teeth nibble my ear, making my cock furious that he’s not inside her yet. Her hands never stop roaming and my tee is already halfway up my torso in her quest to rid me of my clothes as fast as she can.
Once inside, I slam the door shut and her up against the wall before reaching under her dress. I rip off the panties she’s wearing, dropping them to the tile floor. Then my fingers are plunging inside of her, my thumb circling her already hardened nub. She’s so wet, so tight and feels so fucking good, I think I could come from this alone.
I always think of Addy first. I always make sure she comes before I release, several times, in fact, but I’ve been outside of her for too many days in a row now that if I don’t fuck her this instant, I will most undoubtedly embarrass myself.
“I need to fuck you, fireball. Right now. Right here.”
“God, yes, Luke. Please. I ache so much without you.”
In seconds, my jeans are around my ankles and I’m driving brutally inside of her.
It’s rough.
It’s passionate.
It’s fucking bliss.
The instant I feel her wrapped around my cock, all my suffering for the last two weeks melts away.
“Look at me,” I command. I need her eyes. I need to see into her soul. I need my light, my color. I’ve fucking missed my color so damn much.
I haven’t been able to touch my cock in weeks, so the last time I got off was the night Grant and Cash were born. Already feeling the tingling in my balls, I know our race to rapture will be lightning fast, but it’s only the first of many tonight. The only way my cock will be outside of his rightful place for the next twelve hours is if she begs me to stop.
“I love you, Addy. So much. So damn much.”
“I…love…you,” she replies brokenly between forceful thrusts. “Harder. Please.”
“My pleasure, sweetheart.” I pump with intent now, harder, faster, rougher. My thighs burn and sweat covers me, but it’s all worth it when I feel her slick, velvety walls clamp down on my cock, taking me over the edge with her. We both plummet headfirst into one hell of an intense orgasm, crying out the other’s name in sheer joy. Her entire body shakes. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed feeling her shudder in my arms and breathe my name.
I continue to hold her up against the wall as we catch our breaths. I scatter kisses across every inch of flesh I can reach while staying firmly planted inside her. I’m already growing hard again. With every touch of my lips, I whisper, “I’m sorry,” over and over again. She holds me tight, fingers feathering my spine, whispering back, “It’s okay.”
I need to feel her completely. Skin on skin. I need her slow and soft. I need to swallow her whimpers and moans of ecstasy. I need to know she’s mine again, forever.
Wordlessly, I carry her up the stairs and into my room. I strip her and divest myself of my own clothes before crawling on the bed, taking her in my arms and making unhurried, sweet love to her until we’re both exhausted and sore.
I know I need to apologize for my epic screwup. I know we have a lot of talking to do and I’m certainly not looking forward to telling her about her sister. All that can wait until later. Right now, I tug her as close as I possibly can, entwining our limbs so she can’t escape and allowing myself to truly relax for the first time in over two weeks.
“I’m never letting you go,” I mumble as darkness pulls me under. I don’t want to follow, but I’m so damn tired I’m helpless against her call.
“Good, because you’re stuck with me now. Sleep, baby,” she encourages. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
I do let go then, falling asleep with my woman in my arms, a smile on my face, and blissful peace in my very soul. I’ve never felt more content.
Chapter 48
When I wake, I’m momentarily confused as to where I am and what time it is. I’m so fucking tired, I have to fight from slipping under again. A look at the digital clock with its blue lights shows it’s 11:32 and dark outside, so it must be night. I blink my eyes open to see I’m in my childhood room and the evening’s events come rushing back to me.
Addy.
She’s here, but she’s not, because her side of the mattress is empty and cold. I panic, wondering if she changed her mind. Flying out of bed, I throw on my jeans and bound down the stairs, taking them two at a time. I’m getting ready to rip open the front door to see if her car is gone when I hear low voices in the kitchen and then I hear her. Laughing.
Fuck. She’s still here. She didn’t leave me. I’m so relieved that I sag against the cool wood and wipe off the cold sweat now dotting my forehead and upper lip. My eyes drop to the floor and I snicker. Her torn panties are lying in the open for anyone to see. I snatch them up, stuffing them in my pocket and take a minute to gather my wits, calming my heart rate before I walk into the kitchen.
When I see her standing at the island, talking to my mother and her dad, I am struck breathless anew.
Jesus, I love her. I never knew it was possible to love another person so much. I want to beg her to marry me, but I can’t. I don’t have a ring yet and I realize I haven’t asked her father or Eric, all of which I plan to remedy in short order.
“You’re up,” Addy says with surprise when she sees me quietly standing there watching her. Her smile is bright and brilliant, although it drops when her eyes fall to my chest and she sees my new ink. We were all over and in each other for hours earlier, but I have blackout blinds in my room. We didn’t explore each other in the light, so she hasn’t seen my new tribute to her. Well, one of two. In addition to this new tat, I had Eric quickly ink my new war cry underneath the old one so I would remember that every day I lived without my Addy was one too many.
I’ve told her repeatedly how she’s changed my world. This was the only way I could think to really show her I’m sincere; she knows how personal my ink is to me.
She walks over to where I’m standing and runs a trembling finger over the fireball I had Eric draw around my heart tattoo. Now my broken heart is engulfed in colorful red, yellow, and orange flames and my chains are nearly covered. Except for one row, which I purposely left showing.
Her eyes finally lift to mine as she traces the remaining links. Tears spill down her cheeks. “You have one left.” Her voice is soft, shaky. Almost inaudible.
“Because I’m chained to you, fireball. You’ve melted the rest, but this one remains for you. Only you.”
“And you have color,” she says in wonder.
I cup her cheeks, uncaring that our parents are watching. “Because of you. You are my color. I love you, Addy.” Then I kiss her, lift her in my arms, and turn to carry her out of the room, back up to my bed where she belongs.
I need sleep. These last two weeks without her have been utter hell. I can’t sleep without her by my side anymore. I don’t care that I’m being rude or a Neanderthal, but I do call over my shoulder, “You can explain to me later what you’re doing with Bob Monroe at eleven-thirty at night, Mother. I’m taking my woman to bed now.”
Addy tries to fight me, screeching at me to put her down and Bob’s laughter follows me all the way upstairs.
Everything is now right in my world. Just about perfect, in fact.
Just about.
Chapter 49
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” I mumble.
“She was a good woman.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you for coming,” I reply, trying to vary my lame responses.
I feel like a fake standing here, greeting people as if I actually knew my mother. Obviously, they did. More people turned out than I expected and what does that say about me for thinking that horrible thought? There was so much I didn’t know about her and will never get the chance to. There’s so much she didn’t know about me, too, and that’s something I will have to
live with. Including the fact she didn’t get to meet Luke before she died, just two days after my visit.
Usually, the after-funeral reception would be held at some sort of church, but my mother wasn’t religious. We didn’t pray or read the bible or go to mass on Sundays. The only thing she ever worshipped was the man she was currently with and the drink.
So here Sam, Eric, and I stand in my small childhood home, in a nice little line, greeting people as they come in the door like some damn wedding reception or graduation party. And while I want to pay respects to my mother, anywhere near my sister is the very last place I want to be. Eric feels the same way, but we’re doing this for Mom because it’s what she would have wanted. And it’s the right thing to do. Sometimes doing the right thing is really, really fucking hard, though. Today has been an excruciating example.
Sam and I weren’t close before. Now, the tension is so thick and toxic between us that I’m feeling claustrophobic and having a hard time catching my breath the longer I stand beside her.
I mumble to my siblings I need a minute and head into the guest bathroom, shutting myself inside. Loud voices immediately muffle and I can take a full breath for the first time in an hour without inhaling anger and resentment.
After what Sam did to the Colloway family and her own daughter, she should be appalled. She wasn’t. She was unapologetic, saying it was the right thing to do for Landyn’s future. I wholeheartedly disagree, as does Landyn, who hasn’t spoken to her mother in over a week. They already had a strained relationship but I think this is the straw that broke the camel’s back. Well…more like a giant evergreen that was uprooted during a tornado, destroying the house it fell on.
A soft knock on the door startles me and I yell, “Occupied.” I’m not ready to rejoin the fray. In fact, I might stay in here for the next couple of hours until everyone leaves.