Beware 2: The Comeback

by Shanora Williams

  Boy, was I was wrong.

  When I checked out of the hospital, Ace took me to the hotel and after helping me with my pills, I dozed off. Several hours later, I awoke, drowsy, head foggy. I groaned as I turned on my side, feeling the urge to fall asleep again, but to my left was a folded red card, and in front of it, a jewelry box. I sat up on one elbow and scanned the room for him. He was nowhere in sight, so I picked up the card and read it.

  Red,

  My skies were dark without you, but you brought me the moon and an abundance of stars.

  My heart was cold and hollow, but you filled it with warmth and humanity.

  I thought I was living the life, but it turns out I wasn’t really living until I met you.

  You say I’m no monster… I say I’m a monster in love. A tamer monster. One that can now be controlled. One that was pulled from the darkness beneath the bed and appreciated for who I am. Despite the scars, despite the damage, you accept me. Acceptance is what this internal monster needs.

  The future is bright. It’s calling us.

  I will be the man you need.

  The man to take care of you.

  The man I promised I’d be.

  Your man.

  Here. Always and forever.

  Ace

  Blinking my tears away, I dropped the card and reached for the jewelry box, but Ace’s voice filled the room, coming out of thin air. “Don’t touch that.”

  I jerked my hand away and looked over my shoulder as he appeared from the bathroom. “What the hell are you doing in there?”

  “The doctor told me as long as you keep your bandages on and keep it taped down, you could take a shower. No baths, though. Fucking sucks.” I glance over his shoulder, spotting flickering lights. Candle lights. “Was just getting the shower ready for you.” He walked around the bed, meeting at my side. Grabbing my hand, he helped me sit up, and I swung my legs around, dangling them over the edge of the king-sized bed.

  “Ace, don’t tell me that’s what I think it is…” My eyes traveled over to the black box on the nightstand.

  His lips quirked up on one side. “It’s what you think it is.” He stands again, dropping to one knee before me. I gasp, placing a hand over my mouth. “You know I don’t do a lot of sappy shit,” he laughed. “But, shit, this moment calls for it. London, I almost lost you, and realizing that practically made me lose my shit. I didn’t know what was going to happen if something went wrong and you ended up dead because of me.” He squeezed my hands, eyes glistening from the dim light in the corner.

  “I know I’m not perfect, and I never will be, but I want you to realize there’s nothing I want in this world more than you and my son. I fought because I want that bright future with you. I want to start over. I want us to live the way a family is supposed to… the way I never did. I want you and Aden to have the fucking world.” He huffed a laugh. “Shit, I want us all to have the world. No looking back. Just moving forward.” He reached for the box, keeping his other hand tightly wrapped around mine. “I hardly make promises, Red, but tonight—and forever—I promise to make you a happy woman. I promise to never lie to you. I promise to put you and my family first, always, and I promise to never look back. With you, I’ll only move forward. With you is where I want to be. You are my heart, my soul… my life. You are the reason I’m still breathing.” Opening the box, he revealed the large diamond ring, and my heart clambered in my chest. I cupped my mouth, astonished. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  “Oh my God, Ace,” I breathed as he pulled it out and slid it on my finger.

  “Like it?”

  “I love it! How much was this thing?”

  “A good thirty grand. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to tell you the price, though. Ruins everything, right?”

  “No. Not at all.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his sculpted lips. “You know I don’t care about that, babe. The price doesn’t matter.”

  His lips pressed, pleased with my response. Placing a warm, soul-consuming kiss on my lips, he held me tight, and I melted inside, wanting so badly for him to take me—snatch all of my clothes off and make love to me all night, from the bedroom to the shower and then to the bedroom again. But it couldn’t happen that night. Stupid gunshot wound.

  “London.” He broke the kiss, his voice husky. “Marry me, baby.” He clutched my hip with one hand, his other sliding down to hold my ass. “Be my wife. Hold me down for the rest of my life.”

  Eyes glistening, I nodded so hard my head felt like it would roll right off my neck. I squeezed him, drawing him in for another passionate kiss as fingers threaded through his thick hair. “Yes,” I mustered through wet, sugary kisses. “Yes, Ace Crow. I will be your wife.”

  Shit, after all we’ve been through not marrying him would feel wrong.

  Balmain Jeans – Kid Cudi

  Four Years Later

  “Daddy!” A holler floods the tunnel of my ear. I hop up, looking down at Melanie, my three-year-old daughter. She puts on a bashful smile, knowing how much it bugs me for her to scream in my ear, yet she does it every single day.

  “Mel,” I groan, rubbing my face. “You might as well be my personal alarm clock.” I pick her up, providing a tight bear hug and nuzzling her neck. She giggles, and from behind me, London groans.

  “It’s seven in the morning!”

  “Mommy! You look boo-tee-ful.”

  London laughs. “Are you using your charm on me, Mel?”

  Mel grins. “Maybe.”

  “Look at that. Just like daddy.” I nuzzle her neck again then place her on her feet. Bending down, I say, “Where’s Aden?”

  “He’s in the living woom with Auntie Yanca and Unca Trent.”

  “Well, why don’t you go find them for me and tell them I said good morning.” I flash an identical smile to hers, her bright brown eyes sparkling from the rising sun. “Can you do that for me, baby girl?”

  “Yeah, Daddy.” She hugs my face, tilts my head down, and kisses my forehead. Afterwards, she dashes out of the bedroom, and when I hear her tiny footsteps drifting down the hallway, I shut the door.

  “She’s wild,” I chuckle.

  “Like her father.” London yawns. As she stretches, I walk around the bed, running my eyes from her face to her perfect ass.

  “How’s my wife this morning?”

  She flips around as I run the palm of my hand up the back of her thigh. Swatting it away, she says, “She’s just fine, thank you.” Teasing me. That smile on her lips gives it all away.

  Climbing out of bed, she walks around me, and I watch her enter the bathroom. I follow her inside. We brush our teeth, but I don’t take my eyes off her. Dropping her toothbrush, she asks, “Ace, why are you staring at me like that?”

  I laugh, lifting my hands in the air. “What, I can’t stare?”

  “Not like that… like you wanna eat me alive.”

  I place my toothbrush down, smirking. “Maybe,” I murmur, stepping closer and cupping her ass in my hands, “that’s exactly what I want.”

  “Oh, no.” She pushes against me, blushing, doing her best not to laugh. “I have to get the kids ready. I promised I’d take them to the beach today.”

  “We have all day, babe. Plus Bianca and Trent are down stairs. They’ll handle them for a few minutes.”

  “Just how long is a few minutes?” she inquires, running a finger along the cross tattoo on my chest, one eyebrow raised.

  “Sixty,” I tease.

  She laughs out loud. “Sixty! You are insane!”

  My eyebrows elevate. “Am I?” I grab her hand and drag her out of the bathroom. Spinning her around, she gasps as I toss her on the bed, the sheets puffing like clouds as she lands gently.

  Hungrily, I stare at her, watching as she tucks her fingers beneath the strap of her panties. She starts to pull them down and my cock twitches, pulsing. I step forward, but she holds a hand up, pointing at the door. “Lock it.”

  My he
ad shakes. The precautions we take for our children. I’m sure they wouldn’t be pleased to see me fucking the shit out of their mother. Because I’m not soft. I’m rough. I fuck. Hard.

  Stepping forward, my eyes travel down the length of London’s bare body. She’s tossed her shirt and panties on the floor. She’s glorious in all her naked beauty. She was insecure of it after Melanie. Shit. She’s still beautiful. Stretchmarks, bullet scar, and all. I tell her every single day.

  Gripping her thighs, I climb between her knees and drag her towards me. She giggles as I lean forward, placing one torturous kiss on her lips. My fingers slide between her thighs, one easing its way across her clit. I rub slowly, with ease. A serious wave runs through her when she realizes what I’m getting at.

  “I’m going to tease the hell out of you until you can no longer take it, and just when you’re about to cum, Red, I’m going to suck every trace of you away.” She writhes under my finger as I bring my lips to her ear. “Every single drop.” My cock strains in my boxers, wanting so badly to sink inside.

  Take her.

  Fuck her brains out.

  But I know better.

  Patience is key.

  “Then,” I breathe against the shell of her ear, “I’m going to fuck you. Leave you sore all day, begging for more later.”

  She wriggles some more, lips parting, panting. Her chest sinks and rises as I circle her clit with my thumb, using two fingers to thrust inside her. She’s getting closer. I can tell by the way she cups her breasts and sucks on that plump bottom lip. I take that lip between my teeth, grazing it.

  Her climax is near. Moaning, her back arches, but I yank my hand away, snatch my boxers off, flip her over, and thrust deep into that perfect pussy from behind. “Oh, fuck!” she cries.

  “So wet for me, Red,” I breathe, straightening my back. Wrapping her hair in my hand, I tug her head back, needing to see her stunning face. The faces she makes when I’m slaying her are indescribable. It makes me want to keep going, but brings me right to the edge.

  This woman makes me bust loads.

  She makes me cum like never before.

  Even after two amazing kids, her pussy is glorious.

  “Tell me how you want it,” I demand.

  “Hard,” she breathes.

  “Ask me nicely.”

  “Hard, please.”

  I spank her ass with my free hand, and she yelps. Holding her hip, I release her hair and push her down, arching her back so nothing but her round ass is up in the air. I pull my cock out, enjoying the view. I examine the pink slit between her legs as she pants, body begging, legs quaking with need.

  Cupping her ass and spreading her cheeks, I bend down and eat her from behind. Caught off guard, she tries to pull away, gain composure, but I hold her still, flattening my tongue and running it from her entrance to her clit. I run it back up to her puckered entrance, and her body locks up.

  I smirk. I had my fun with that back entrance last night.

  Her moans fill the room, wet and heavy. I keep one hand positioned on her hips and bring the other down to stroke my cock. I could cum like this, watching her squirm in pleasure as the sweet taste of her showers my tongue. Watching her glorious body beg for release. But I won’t.

  I pull away, digging through her nightstand for my treasures. Pulling out the pearl handcuffs I had specially made for us, I flip her onto her back and cuff her wrists in front of her. Lifting her hands above her head and bringing my cock to her entrance, I murmur, “Keep them there,” as I ease my way inside. Her walls are soaked, showing no resistance. Her tight, sensitive flesh surrounds my cock, throbbing. She breathes my name. “Goddamn, Red.” My voice is husky, causing her to move her hands. I place them back in the spot they belong. “Your pussy never fails me, baby. It’s always ready. But I need you to keep your hands there.”

  Completely ignoring me, she picks her head up off the bed, sits forward, and binds her arms around my neck from the gap between. Our lips connect. She’s in need. She’s tired of the teasing. Tired of the games. She needs a good fuck, and since she disobeyed, that’s exactly what she’s gonna get.

  Picking her legs up, I throw them around my waist and pound into her pussy, my fingers threading through her hair, cock pulsing with each stroke. “Ace,” she breathes. “Oh, yes.” Pleasure.

  I crush her lips for a split second before removing her arms from around me and sitting up straight, spreading her legs wide apart, and revealing the perfect V. Bringing her legs upright, I fasten my hands around her ankles like they’re an extra pair of handcuffs, and I don’t stop. My hips work hard, cock drilling, conjuring cries and moans from my naughty wife.

  Her back arches as she claws at the satin sheets. I place her leg on my shoulder and release one hand, applying pressure and rubbing her swollen nub in torturous loops.

  “Who do you belong to, Red?”

  “You,” she struggles to say. She’s close. Body bucking, breathing heavy. Wild.

  I’m so fucking close. My cock is bulging, body flexing and tensing. My eyes hold hers, smoldering. “Only mine.”

  “Only… yours.” The words break apart, and in a few short seconds, her back arches even more. She stills, and I slam through, bringing her to complete, euphoric ecstasy. Warmth runs over my thickness. My hands land outside her head, and I release, still stroking. Jolting.

  London shudders from the aftermath, her body dying down, back leveling. When she comes to, she breathes hard, looking me in the eyes. Unable to help myself, I smile down at her, catching my breath. “Will we ever be able to get enough of each other?” she asks, winded.

  I let out a hoarse laugh, pulling out and laying beside her. “Red, we’ll never be able to get enough of each other. Even when I turn seventy and have saggy-ass balls and wrinkles all over my dick, I still won’t feel like I’ve had enough.” I stroke her cheek, watching as a childlike smile appears on her lips.

  “Good. You better not,” she playfully scolds.

  Silence cascades the room, but it isn’t awkward. Our eyes never drift from one another’s. The sun is higher in the sky, making her hazel irises sparkle. Flecks of amber and green pop out. She strokes my face, and I raise my hand to hers. She scoots forward, pleased. Wrapping her in my arms, I say softly, “Love you, London.”

  And she looks up, hugging me tight and murmuring, “I love you too, Ace.”

  ***

  I can say I’m satisfied with life. Actually, I’m more than satisfied. I’ve never been at peace with myself like this before. Life has a funny way of showing you things. For a while, I was sure I’d remain fucked up in the head. Bitter and lonely. I thought, surely, I was doomed in the end.

  Not many knew, but there were times when I pictured myself growing old, ending up like the grumpy old people in nursing homes that get no visitors or, worse, my father. I refused to be like him, yet I’d turned into a spitting image of him the deeper I got into the business. If I hadn’t met London, I would still be troubled. Shit, I’d probably be dead. Even with all the riches and power, I was still rotten inside. Spoiled. No good. I wasn’t happy. Someone needed to get rid of the darkness and clutter.

  That someone was her.

  But I’m here.

  Home, in Costa Rica.

  The kids love it. London adores it. My kids are my world, and I don’t believe it, but Aden calls me “Dad” now. I didn’t mind being called Ace, but Dad sounds so much better coming out of his mouth when directed at me. The thought of losing him terrified me. He was everything and more to me and I’d just gotten to know him. Our bond was immediate. Our connection strong. I love that boy more than life itself. Luckily he doesn’t remember much. We made sure to take many trips in hopes that it would get off his mind.

  And my daughter. Little Melanie, who looks just like her mother, carries her attitude, sass, and everything. She’s my angel. My beautiful china doll. If anything ever happens to her, shit will surely get ugly. With Aden, I’m still protective, but I allow him to be
strong. When he falls, I tell him to brush that shit off and keep it moving. No tears unless it’s an unbearable pain.

  But with Melanie, even if she slips, says “Whoospies”, giggles, and gets back up, I go into full-blown daddy mode. I check her everywhere, hoping she isn’t bruised or hurt. I hold her in my arms until I see she’s safe. She has a smart mouth like her mother, and she can be just as tough. She doesn’t get hurt easily. Melanie will tell me to calm down as she tries to wriggle out of my arms, and I laugh.

  It’s just love.

  Unconditional, pure love for both of them.

  When she’s not busy, Bianca visits often, but even when she laughs and plays around with her niece and nephew, I see the pain in her eyes that will never disappear. Just like I see it in London’s eyes.

  There are days when I spot London spending time alone on the hammock hanging from the Ceiba tree behind our house. She stares out towards the ocean, the water rippling from the salt-water pool in front of her. I’m sure she thinks about her family, what she’d be like, and how her life would’ve turned out if they were still alive. I know she wants grandparents for her children. An uncle.

  She wonders if Jonah would have chosen a different path if her parents had never passed away. Some nights, when everyone is in bed, I wake up and realize her side of the bed is empty, and when I pass by the kitchen and look out the balcony window, I’ll catch her curled up with a blanket, crying on the lounge chairs by the pool or that favorite hammock of hers. I don’t blame her, and as badly as I want to go out and comfort her every time, I don’t. Everyone needs alone time every once in a while.

  There are moments when I should cry, but the tears just won’t fall. I’ve lost many. I’ve lost a lot because of the life I lived. I know everything has changed—that I’m now a free man. I can be a good man. I can do that for my family.