He’s been home for two weeks, recovering nicely. He began a mild workout plan and has had minimal pain. His doctor released him to go back to work part time. Zoe stepped up full time to help out when Reggie was in the hospital. Now that he is back to work, we trade days since he is insistent I need a break from all the stress.
We haven’t really spoken about that night and the days following. I know Reggie doesn’t want to hear how difficult this ordeal was for me. However, I want to share with him how I was completely devastated, how I had to rip myself from the invading blackness, because I needed to be strong for him.
After Reggie came home from the hospital, he was ready to resume life as it was before. Even if I wanted him to take it easy, I knew he wouldn’t; as a result I let him run the show, and I was there when he needed me. But tonight, I need Reggie to be open-minded as I tell him it’s time for us to leave Sulfur Heights. I’m not sure what I will say or how I will even approach the conversation, but it has to be done.
I live in fear, waiting for the next tragedy to happen. There is only so much a family can survive before we’re not breathing at all. Now that I have this life, I will not take any second of it for granted.
I’ve changed a lot over the last several years. I once thought of only myself. I would fight, drink, and act like a complete asshole because of everything I went through when I was young. Now, however, I know how to value family, and Reggie is my family. I will not go through something like that again, and I won’t allow Reggie to live through it, either. He’s already lived through enough pain and suffering—we both have—and starting a life away from the repulsion lurking outside our windows is the best thing for us.
The sight of drug deals, fights, and the sound of sirens hasn’t stopped. It’s a never-ending cycle, a pit of tragedy and horror, and we need to be as far away from it as possible.
The back door slams shut as Reggie walks into the kitchen. I’ve been sitting up all night waiting for him. Although it’s three in the morning, I need to have this conversation with my husband.
The sound of stomping boots and an unzipping coat alerts me that he will be walking through the living room any moment. Then he’s there. Tall, tone, and rugged, my husband is utterly breathtaking.
When our eyes connect, I immediately know he’s irritated and worn out. He’s made a remarkable recovery; however, he has yet to gain back all of his energy.
When Reggie walks over to me and kisses my scarred shoulder, I unwrap myself from the blanket and start pulling my feet from the couch. I move to stand, but Reggie shakes his head no, lifts my chin, and lightly kisses my lips. He says nothing as he walks from the living room and heads for our bedroom.
I take a second to study his back. It doesn’t escape me that Reggie appears defeated. It worries me. I know it’s been really challenging to rely on Gavin, Zoe, Big Mike, and me where the bar is concerned. It has been his home away from home, a stable part of his life when shit seems to hit the fan, yet a month ago, I couldn’t have said that. And I think this has Reggie freaking out.
After Reggie was moved from ICU, I had a hypothetical conversation with Big Mike and Gavin. From that conversation, they basically told me they were really interested in buying The Slab. Apparently, they were talking about opening up their own bar, but if they can get ours for a manageable price, they’d rather buy it. I was instantly thrilled yet knew selling the bar would be next to impossible to bring up with Reggie, almost as impossible as moving away from our family. However, nights like this, when my husband is so stressed and frustrated, I realize we could avoid this, because we wouldn’t be responsible for it any more.
I swallow down the fear and walk back to the bedroom. As I turn the corner, I see him sitting on the corner of the bed. His back is facing me, so I take the time to watch him as he pulls his shirt off and tosses it to the floor. Then he bends forward, resting his elbows on his knees and cradles his head in his palms. Something major happened tonight because nothing else explains my husband’s telltale sign of aggravation.
I move deeper into the room and sit next to him on the bed. Slowly, I raise my hand and run it down his back. The tension in his muscles begins to weaken with the small, gentle strokes of my fingers. “Do you want to talk about it?” I place my chin on his shoulder and slide myself closer to his warm body.
“All I want to do is shower and hold you, angel.” Reggie leans over, kisses my forehead, and then moves to the bathroom.
For a moment, I debate on going in with my husband, but he wants to be left alone, and I need to honor that. Instead, I decide the best way to make him relax is to make love to him. I quickly move to the other bathroom and start the shower. I ball my hair up on my head and slide in under the warm spray. As quickly as I can, I wash, shave, dry my body, and then move to our bed to wait for my love to join me.
Not long after the sound of the shower stops, he opens the bathroom door with a towel wrapped around his waist, the smell of his clean soap lingering in the air. He soon joins me in bed, and I can feel him pressed against my back.
I roll over and face him. His broken, sad eyes finally connect with mine, reminding me of the sleepless nights he would lose when Jeremy was in jail, or Drake was falling apart, or Jake was acting like an idiot. He’s always carried the weight of his brother’s actions on his shoulders, and now the weight is back, but it’s from me again.
I decide not to talk to him just yet. I am going to lie here and make my man feel like all will be well once again in our world. I lift my hand and cup his cheek in my palm, and Reggie tilts his head slightly, leaning into my touch. I reach up and kiss him, pressing my skin to his as I hold my lips against his.
Just as Reggie is about to roll on top of me, I make my move and roll on top of him, keeping most of my weight on his right side to avoid his wound. While I kiss him deeply, Reggie’s strong, large hands hold me to his hot skin. Our bodies are molded as we meld into one person, one soul, and one life. Nothing else in this moment matters; not moving, the bar, or our family. The only thing that matters is keeping this connection between the two of us.
He is everything to me, and it is my responsibility to make sure he knows that. With every breath I take, I will spend my life making sure Reggie knows how precious he is to me.
Sometimes I wonder why I’ve put up with it for so long, especially on nights like tonight. The bar was extremely busy, and mixing the drinks and overseeing the crowd took too much out of me. My energy level is much better than what it was, but I’m still not at one hundred percent.
However, it was the people who really started to piss me off. Most of them are ungrateful assholes demanding drinks and fighting over a stupid pool game. Granted, this is how it has always been, yet it seemed like I couldn’t take it anymore tonight. I wanted to slug someone in the face simply for looking at me the wrong way.
The patience it takes to run a bar in this fucking town is nearly impossible. Being constantly around this type of crowd is frustrating, although there’s nothing I can do about it. The Slab is our livelihood, and a good one. Besides, I do enjoy being a bar owner. Maybe I am just trying to adapt again. Who fucking knows?
When I walked through the door, it was impossible to shake my attitude. Darcie immediately picked up on it, but I didn’t want to talk about it. I simply wanted to shower and sleep. Then we can start over tomorrow.
I need to keep myself moving forward, just as I always have. Don’t look back; always look ahead and all will be well. I’ve had to remind myself of that many, many times throughout my life. Living through my attempted murder is just one more thing I need to leave in the past and overcome.
Now, I’m lying with my angel slung over the top of me. Her tits are pressed into my chest, and her soft lips are caressing mine. She intensifies the kiss as I feel her tongue dip into my mouth before she strokes mine over and over. I stir awake the moment I feel her on top of me, and soon after, all of my bad feelings evaporate.
I slide one hand up her s
pine and grasp onto the base of her neck while the other hand remains on the small of her back, pushing her torso into my own. Darcie leans up, breaking our kiss, then starts to move her lips down my body. I can feel her warm, wet kisses trail over my collarbone, down my chest, and onto my stomach until she sits up slightly and brushes her finger over my mended wound.
Darcie looks down at my side for several seconds before she leans down, kissing my scar. “Just like you do with me, I will kiss your scar in hopes of taking all your pain way.”
I can feel it. All the pain and irritation from today and the last several days begins to leave the moment she kisses me. Her touch is my healing power and my strength. She is so very important to me. I don’t know if I could go on living if anything were to happen to her. She is and will always be everything to me. I love her, and one of the best things I’ve done is making her my wife.
Darcie resumes kissing my skin as she makes her way over the other side of my stomach and then back up to my chest. She lands on my heart and places her ear to my chest.
“This is the best sound in the world. For a while there, I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear it again.” Then her chin tips down and a small, wet tear drips onto my chest soon after.
“Hey,” I whisper as I lift her chin and look into her eyes. It’s rare to see my wife cry. When she does, it devastates me. “I’m okay. You’ll never have to live through something like that again, angel,” I reassure her as I guide her face up to mine. “I promise, baby.”
Once our lips find each other again, we kiss passionately yet slowly, deeply. We don’t rush. We only embrace and cherish this very moment, a moment we were so sure would never happen again.
I roll over, putting my wife’s body underneath mine. I will make love to her. I will express to her how precious she is to me.
When I am with her, everything makes sense. My vision is always clear, and every beat of my heart is worth it.
As she opens her legs wider, inviting me in, I welcome her invitation. No matter which piece of our puzzle it is, we will always find a way to fit together.
I slide my cock into her warm, fleshy body and give myself to her touch. I push myself deeper into her, and Darcie sucks in a breath, keeping her lips close to mine. With all the love I have in my heart for this brave, wild woman, I slowly start to move, making love to my wife.
In unison, we move slowly and comfortably. Darcie clings onto my back, digging her nails into my flesh. The jilting pain combined with the pleasure igniting in my groin is erotic and sensual.
As she raises her leg, I hook it over my arm and plant it on my shoulder, allowing me to drive deeper into her body. With a few deliberate rocks of my hips, my wife falls apart beneath me, whispering my name as she trembles from her orgasm.
Seconds later, I feel the wonderful, building sensation in my thighs and lower abdomen. I soon join her as my first orgasm since that horrible night explodes from my body. I’m colliding with the intensity of the moment and the onslaught of sensations. The sweat lingers on my brow, and my body falls weak. I allow my arms to succumb to the moment and collapse on my wife, who holds me as I slowly start to come back to earth.
***
We’ve barely moved since making love. I only slid off her and pulled her onto my chest. While I lie here with my wife next to me, I can’t help being grateful I’m still alive. Holding my wife is all I wanted to do when I got home, and I’m so glad I’m here in this moment. Life is incredibly precious, and if this whole ordeal has taught me anything, it is not to take a single second for granted.
“I love you,” Darcie whispers, breaking up my thoughts. “Do you even understand how much I love you?” She leans back so I can focus on her eyes.
“I do, angel, because I love you just as much. You are so very special to me, and I am one lucky fucker to have you lying right here, right now.” I pull her left hand up, kissing the soft skin above her wedding ring. “And I’m even luckier I can call you my wife.”
“I … I need to talk to you about something.” Her voice is very quiet and distant. It’s got my curiosity piqued. She sits up and fixes her hair in a pile on top of her head. “I just need you to be open-minded, okay?”
My gut sinks to my feet. This has to be serious; otherwise, she would never just blurt that out. Three years ago, Darcie actually got pregnant when the doctors told her it wasn’t possible. The abuse she sustained as a child when she lived with Robert must have been an attributing factor to her infertility. The news was disappointing at first, knowing we could never grow our family, but we dealt with it like we deal with everything else—together. So, when she actually got pregnant, we were overjoyed. However, the feeling was short lived because, not soon after her second trimester, she had a miscarriage. When I got to the hospital, the look on her face was devastating.
The sound of her voice then mirrors how it sounds now, very quiet and serious. I am waiting for her to crack and the floodgates of tears to open. I hate surprises, and this one feels like a horrible bombshell.
She merely looks at me, waiting for an answer, so I nod my head and wait for the other ball to drop.
“Remember when I was in high school, and all I ever talked about was leaving this place?” she says out of the blue.
I’m not sure where she is heading with this random statement, but I decide to follow along.
“Of course, you couldn’t get away fast enough.”
“Well, those feelings have never gone away.” Her eyes begin to pool with tears. Never in my life have I known Darcie to be so scared and meek. Normally, she blurts it out and leaves you to figure out what she wants. “I need to leave. I just can’t do this anymore. I … I … can’t stay in this town anymore.”
And there it is. The ball has fallen like a lead balloon, and my life is once again going into a downward tailspin. I sit up and swing my legs off the bed. Walking to my dresser, I pull out a pair of shorts and slip them on. That’s when I feel the rage. All of the anger over everything boils to the surface as I look at my wife.
“What are you saying, angel?” I yell at her, physically unable to maintain a normal tone of voice. “After everything we’ve been through, you’re just cashing in the chips and leaving?”
“No!” She gets off the bed and snags a shirt from the floor. She is swimming in the fabric yet looks very, very sexy. “I don’t want to confuse you. I am leaving, but you’re coming with me.”
My brow wrinkles as I try to figure out what the hell my wife is talking about. “What?”
“We are selling the bar and the house, and we are getting the fuck out of here. That’s what I’m saying,” she snaps back at me.
I can’t help smiling. I know why she is doing this. I know she’s scared of what happened to me; however, the feelings will all pass. She just needs to be reassured that I will be here for her. Nothing bad will happen to us like that again. Normally, I would be there to walk her through every step. Only, this time, she didn’t have that. She didn’t have me to depend on, and that leaves me feeling incredibly guilty.
Once I move to the other side of the bed and hold my hand out for her to grab, she takes it and threads our fingers together. “Look, angel, I know you’re scared of what happened at the bar, but it will be fine. We will be fine.”
She yanks her hand from mine and stands taller, the tears instantly evaporating. All that’s left is her fiery temper. The Darcie I fell in love with has reemerged as she glares in my direction, ready to give me a tongue-lashing.
“Nothing will be fine, Reggie! You have no idea what I’ve gone through the last month, do you?” I try to answer, but she interjects. “No! You don’t.”
“Well, I do know what it’s like feeling helpless as someone terrorizes the person you love. So I’d say I have a pretty good idea of what it’s like, angel.” My anger has returned. I can feel this is going to be a battle of the fittest. When I take in her face again, she’s prepped for war.
“You’ve seen the aftermath of what happen
ed to me, not witnessed it when it happened. It’s very, very different. I watched that fucker shoot you. I laid down in your blood and watched you gasp your last breath. I stood aside while Zoe resuscitated you. Do you realize, if she hadn’t gotten there when she did, you would have died?” She takes a deep breath then steps even closer to me. “I sat in a hospital room, listening to the fucking heart monitor beep and beep and beep. With every fucking sound, I was driven closer to insanity because I didn’t know if you’d make it. That first week, all I did was keep myself planted next to your dying body and beg anyone who would listen to keep you alive. I went nowhere. I barely ate. I only sat in that damn chair, willing you to wake, hoping the infection would be gone and your internal bleeding would stop.”
“Angel, I’m fine. I’m not going to die. We are going to be okay.”
“No, we won’t!” Her shoulders sag, slightly defeated. “As long as we are here, nothing will be okay.” She is pleading with me to understand, but I can’t.
“You need to look at the good stuff that’s happened since we’ve been together. Look at our family and everything that’s happened to them. You can’t just dwell on all the bad shit; otherwise, you’ll make yourself crazy.”
“Reggie, I’m not budging on this.”
“Neither am I, angel.”
“You once told me you’d protect me no matter what, right?” I nod my head, knowing I’d give my life for her. “Well, that works both ways. I am protecting you, too. I cannot lose you again. I can’t go through that ever again.”
“You’re not going to lo—”
“Think of the bar and all the shit that happens there. We are so lucky nothing major has happened yet, but that’s all we have on our side, Reggie—luck. Sooner or later, it will run out.”
“So what the hell are we supposed to do? Just up and abandon everything?” I turn and walk the length of the room. My nerves are shot. It’s five o’clock in the morning, and I can’t have a drink with the medication I’m still taking. So, yeah, I need to move. I need to shake some of the anger.
Everlasting Love Page 5