Freed

by Lynetta Halat

  Sitting in front of my fireplace, curled up with a good book, I feel a sense of peace. Granted, things are far from perfect, and I know that’s not even possible. Just the simple fact that I’m doing the things needed to make it better, makes all the difference. And it doesn’t matter that I’m home alone. My mom is off with Blake, and no one I love is helping me bring in the New Year, because for the first time in years, I feel comfortable in my own skin and confident in who I am and what I want. I know that when the time is right, I will be surrounded by people who love me, and that is something I’ve never known with certainty before. So, while it would be nice to have company, I’m perfectly content to be alone, because I’m not lonely.

  My phone buzzes at my side me, shaking me from my reverie. Austin just threw an entire brick of firecrackers into the bonfire. Hope you’ll still love me deaf.

  I roll my eyes at the phone. As long as he doesn’t maim my favorite part of you, I’ll still love you.

  Favorite part? Do tell.

  I’m more of a shower than a teller.

  God, I miss you.

  Miss you too.

  You OK?

  Yep, it’s quiet here. And really freakin’ cold. Catching up on reading.

  Educational?

  You could say that. ;)

  I love you naughty.

  I love you. XO

  Scrolling back through our messages over the last few weeks is like reading a diary. Some of it is sad, most of it is encouraging, and all of it was well over due.

  Just landed in MS. It’s hot and humid here. WTF? In other news, made my dad hug me and talk to me on the drive.

  Told my dad everything—all the evil stepfather shit, all the Greer stuff, all the momma drama. Bright point—all the Ransom goodness.

  He’s gone through a lot of different emotions. Seems to have settled on “regret” and wants “to fix shit.” Yep, this is where I got my potty mouth.

  OMG! My dad told me he loves me. And I told him I love him too. Insert big, cheesy smile!

  I’m going to puke. He’s flying back home with me. Wants to sit down with my mother.

  Blake’s staying at a hotel, but we were told it’s only temporary. We’ve got no right to tell her who she can be with.

  Got everything out on the table with mom, but not before she stormed off no less than six times. It was a process.

  Told my mom she hasn’t hugged me since I was ten. She screamed at me and called me a liar and a manipulator.

  She gave me a hug and whispered she was sorry. Only thing is she thought I was asleep. She sat and stared at me forever before she made her move. When she did, though, I told her I was sorry too and that I forgive her.

  Blake’s going to rehab. My mom feels guilty, she’s gonna drop him off and tell him that she’s divorcing him so that “the counselors can deal with the fallout.”

  My dad leaves today. I’m so sad. We made a lot of headway with the new colt, but I wish he could stay and see it through with me.

  Umm … just walked in on my parents hugging and crying. Looked WAY intimate. Is this a good thing?

  This morning, before my mom left for Utah, she told me that she wants to get “it” right, but not to expect more than baby steps, and to be prepared for her to screw up. That sounded familiar, and it was something I definitely got. I told her that she was amazing just for trying. Yes me! I admitted that. And to my mother!

  The sound of knocking at the side door has me switching off my cell and tossing it on the couch. I look down to make sure my pajamas are presentable. Standing on my tippy-toes at the door, I peek out and spot Greer.

  I promise myself not to let the past that he brings with him spoil this little peace I’ve found, before I swing the door open. I smile at him, and he smiles back. It’s like a real one, which makes mine go wide. The setting sun hovers over his shoulder, illuminating him with the last rays of sunshine. My breath catches at how much better he looks these days—almost golden again. I swallow hard at the sudden lump in my throat.

  Greer shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels a little. I know that’s his casual stance and not his nervous one. That makes me happy. “Hey, Denver. Busy?” he asks.

  I glance down again at my pajamas, laughing at how pathetic it must seem to be nineteen, home alone on New Year’s Eve, and dressed for bed before the sun has even set. “Just a hot date with a romance novel and a fire. Wanna come in?”

  He nods at me, and I play hostess, getting us some drinks (non-alcoholic) before I lead him back to the living room by the fire.

  Greer sits, but then stands back up just as quick, and pokes at the fire a bit. I wait patiently for him to give me a clue, but when he rambles about random things and adds logs, arranging them just right, I intervene.

  “Greer, the fire’s fine. Did you come just to hang out, or you got something on your mind?”

  He puts the poker down and turns to me with his hands on hips. “Your dad stopped by my place before he left.”

  My brows shoot up. “Really?”

  “Yeah, we had an … interesting chat. He threatened to cut my balls off and feed ‘em to me if I ever hurt you or anyone else like that again. Then he talked to my dad and found out what all I’ve been doing. You know, with trying to make amends and get myself right?” I nod. “He told me I was a good boy once, and I’ll be a good man, and that I’m on the right track now. Then he slapped me on the back of the head and took off.”

  “I had to tell him, Greer. He had to understand the whole picture.”

  “No, I get it. I’m glad you did. If a father can forgive a man for doing that to his daughter, maybe there’s something of worth in me to forgive.” He slides down on the other side of the couch, exhaling as if another stressor has been removed.

  Leaning toward him, I pat his hand quickly before sitting back. “Of course there is. I’m really proud of you for working so hard. I know it’s not easy.”

  “Me too. Proud of you, that is.”

  “Greer, can I tell you something without you getting the wrong idea?” He nods. “I’m sorry I never told you I loved you.” My eyes sting with true regret. “I did. I do love you.” His blue eyes shine bright with tears.

  “I love you too, chicken,” he whispers gruffly. “And I always will. But, we can never be together. I know that now. One thing I’ve figured out through all this is that I didn’t know myself very well. It was like I was no one without you … that’s not right, and it’s not healthy. And, it’s too much to put on another person.” He laughs lightly. “I will say it feels good to hear you say it—to know it wasn’t one-sided—even if it is too late for us.”

  I had always wanted to be the girl who wanted to want him and kicked myself for not being able to, but I can’t dwell on that anymore. “My head was so twisted, I couldn’t see it, but when things went south with us and I had nothing and no one to hide behind anymore, it became crystal clear. I hate that it took all that for me to see it and admit it, but other times, I wonder if it hadn’t happened like it did, would I be where I am right now? Getting my head together? Getting my parents back?” I shake my head and sigh. “I don’t know. All I know is I’m pulling the good out of the grips of the bad and running with it. I’m not going to let the darkness pull me back under.”

  Greer and I spend the next couple of hours talking like old friends catching up after years apart. I don’t know that we can be an everyday presence in each other’s lives. Somehow I think that might be pushing the limits, but he can be that forever friend. The one you don’t have to share every single thing with, but when you come back together, it’s like no time has passed, and you pick up where you left off. I’ve heard about those. It sounds nice.

  After I lock up behind him, I look around my house and know without a doubt that what I want is two hundred miles away, and I can’t wait another second for him. I glance at the clock, noting that it’s barely nine. I make a mad dash for my phone and fire off a text.

  Chapter
Twenty-two

  Ransom

  I’M READY. MEET in the middle?

  Austin whoops loudly in the background while Pete and Stone cheer him on. Even though they stand ten feet away from me, it feels as though they’re a million miles away. Hot damn. I stand kind of frozen for a minute, taking it all in. The past few months have been hell, but they’ve also been heaven. When Denver determined that she needed to get her family back—because, in her words, How can I be secure in my future when my foundation is so damn shaky?—I offered to go with her and help her put it to rights. She said it was something she needed to do on her own, of course. I had never met her parents, but what I know, I don’t like. My biggest fear was that she would be rejected, and she would be devastated and all alone. I should’ve known better. Once Denver knew what she wanted and how to get it, she wasn’t going to let anything stand in her way.

  The light dims on my phone, about to time out. I press it, needing to send my reply.

  I feel a hot breath of air on my neck, and then, “Holy shit! My boy’s about to lose his virginity!”

  My head jerks up, and my fist flies out, but Austin’s already a good four feet away. “Asshole,” I retort without heat.

  “Now, Ransom,” he chides. “I think it’s sweet. And you waited for a good one. If her bull riding skills are anything to go on, she’ll be up for one wild ride.” He’s bent over with laughter, even slapping his knees with undisguised glee. He really loves it when he gets one on me. I shake my head, fighting a smile.

  Pete tackles Austin to the ground before he can get off any more quips about my love life. Nosey bastard. I look over those two fools to spot my brother with a curious expression on his face. I pull Denver’s message back up and shoot off my reply. Stepping around the ruckus, I slide next to Stone.

  “That true?” he asks, not quite making eye contact.

  “Yeah, bro. I mean, I’ve fooled around, but I wanted it to mean something is all. I just hadn’t met the person who meant everything … until Denver.”

  He’s quiet for a second. “I think that’s good. Smart.” Yeah, this is awkward. I’m ready to move on, but then he makes it more awkward. “Well, good luck,” he chirps, winking at me and slapping me on the back.

  “Fuck.”

  I call them all idiots, make arrangements for Stone to get home, and suddenly find myself wishing for a newer truck ‘cause I can’t get to my girl fast enough.

  The parking lot is empty, save one cherry-red, pick-up truck with white trim and shiny chrome. My heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest. I haven’t seen her in so long, I don’t even know where to start. I want to look at her, feel her, taste her. And all at once. Slow down, cowboy. You’ve got forever.

  There’s a light tap at my window. Ever the eager girl. I open the door and swing my legs out. She steps between them, and without a word, brings my lips to hers. No hesitation, no fear, just pure confidence.

  I groan against her soft mouth ‘cause that’s sexy as hell. She bites my bottom lip, sucking it in her mouth and running her wet tongue over it. I let her have her way with me for a minute, not fighting for control and just going along for the ride, until I taste her tears mingling with the unique flavor that is Denver. I know those tears—they are her sweet tears.

  Sliding from the truck, I kick the door closed with my foot and push her back against it. I hitch my hands under her thighs and bring her legs around me, diving for her throat with my mouth. Those little whimpers that get caught there and vibrate against my tongue drive me wild. Her legs lock around me, and she grinds her front against mine. Time to move this inside.

  Tightening my hold, I start to move toward the building, but then I whirl back around. Denver lets out a screech. “What are you doing?” she gasps.

  “Open the truck door. Dash. Grab it,” I demand, nodding my head toward the box waiting there.

  She follows my terse instructions and then marvels, “You got me a present?”

  “Yeah, baby. Close that door. I need you inside.”

  Striding across the parking lot with my woman wrapped around me, I ignore the protests from my body, since I’m just as eager as she is and don’t want to lose her touch.

  “You can’t carry me all the way up the stairs, Ransom,” she laughs, as I pull the door open for us.

  “Done it before. I’ll do it again.”

  Her look turns somber, but there’s a light there too. A precious light that had gone dim for a while—one that I’m happy as hell to have shining on me. “Look how far we’ve come since that night, Ransom. Did you ever think you’d end up with that broken girl you found underneath a staircase?”

  “Never thought it. Dreamt it … wanted it. Made it happen,” I grin, knowing full well I’m wearing my cocky-as-hell smile as she calls it. It’s not my fault she makes me feel invincible.

  Denver buries her face in my neck and starts doing that nipping thing that she likes to do, forcing me to stop and pin her against the wall. I just need to feel her. My eyes roll back in my head. I feel ready to burst already … how will I ever hold out? “Driving me to distraction, little fighter. We’re never gonna make it,” I grind out.

  “I always have liked the idea of making you lose control,” she taunts, licking and sucking at my Adam’s apple.

  “Ow,” she yelps, when I shift us away from the wall, and with a smack on her ass, tell her to behave.

  Once I get her in the apartment, I let her slide down from my arms. “Whatcha wanna do now?” I tease. “Watch a movie?”

  “Oh God, Ransom,” she groans, hooking her thumbs into my belt loops and pressing her hips into mine.

  I kiss her softly, teasingly, all the way to my bedroom door, promising that’s not the last time tonight she’ll be saying that.

  The last time we were this close was kind of a disaster. Her last time to do this was definitely a disaster, so I vow I’ll make it amazing for her. For us.

  When I promise her that, her eyes shimmer, she cradles my jaw in her hand, and then she blows me away when she whispers, “What we’re about to do—neither of us have ever done.” Denver presses her lips to mine and breathes, “Make love to me, John.”

  For each article of clothing I remove, I must worship her ten times over with my tongue or my mouth, until we are stretched out on the bed. Naked. Arching toward each other with need and urgency.

  The need to come makes me see stars, and I know I need to slow myself down some, so I flip her on to her back and move her hands above her head. “Keep these right here,” I say, kissing her palms. “You touch me, I start over,” I threaten.

  “Yes, John,” she murmurs, a playful smile lighting up her eyes.

  Damn straight.

  I sit back on my knees and take in the sight before me. She’s flushed, her back arching toward me. “You are so beautiful,” I praise, running the back of my hand between her breasts, over her stomach. Her breath gets caught in her throat, her eyes closing. “Eyes on me, baby.”

  Her honeyed eyes blink open slowly, cloudy with lust and love. “I love you, Denver.”

  Her eyes widen and glisten, revealing all that she feels before she even says it. “I love you, John.” I sink a finger into her. “So much,” she gasps.

  When I withdraw my finger, she mumbles a protest. I pop the now shiny digit in my mouth and suck on it, and she trembles all around me. Hitching her legs up on my arms, I ever so slowly lick her sweet warmth from bottom to top. I make a meal out of her until she is coming apart in my arms, and her praise becomes incoherent babbling.

  Shifting on the bed, I reach for the drawer, but her words stop me. “If it’s OK … I’m clean, and I’m on the Fort Knox of birth control,” she finishes with a mischievous smile.

  “You sure?” She nods. “I want nothing more than to feel you, Denver.”

  “Me too,” she whimpers. I fuse my mouth to hers, my tongue thrusting against hers, and slide deep inside that tight heat. Ah, God. She feels amazing. I withdraw swiftly,
teetering at her entrance for a moment, so that I can sink back in and feel her all over again. The rush. The warmth. The acceptance.

  “Feels so good,” I breathe against her mouth.

  “Mmm … ”

  Running my hand down her side, I latch on to her leg and bring it around my hip. I grind myself against her, needing to feel every part of her. “Touch me.”

  Her head falls back, her hands raking against my back, and she hisses, “Oh, yes. You feel so perfect inside of me.”

  Just to make sure we’re clear, I proclaim, “You. Are. Mine.” Each word reverberates with each push. “Just like I am yours.”

  “Yes, yours. Yours,” she promises.

  And then every thought flees, and we become actions.

  Colliding.

  Climbing.

  Seeking.

  Dissolving.

  Loving.

  I let her body, and those sexy little sounds she makes in the back of her throat, guide my every move. Focusing on that, on her, ensures I don’t blow too soon. Denver’s hands play at my shoulders, and then she sinks her teeth into the tender skin at my collarbone. When she shudders all around me and calls out my name like a prayer, I can’t hold off my own release. Knowing she’s gone over the edge, I gladly follow her.

  Completely destroyed, I collapse on top of her. She hitches her leg tighter around me, like she can’t bear to let me go, and kisses her way up my neck, to my mouth. I can’t stop trembling. I’m not sure if it’s from my release or the emotions this girl makes me feel—probably a little bit of both. “You are amazing,” she marvels. “In every possible way. Was it all you hoped for?” Her husky laugh reverberates through me.

  “More,” I say, unable to articulate beyond that. Let’s just say there’s a world of difference between coming in your hand and in the wet, tight heat of the one you love, the one who accepts you, the one who puts you first.