Fools Rush In

by Lilliana Anderson

  Cartwrights don’t apologise. If Toby was to be believed, that’s still who I was. I just hoped he was right and I’d still be one at the end of the day.

  “Do you think I should’ve told you from the beginning?” I sniffled, wiping my hand across my face.

  “That wouldn’t have been the best idea,” she said, smiling a little.

  “Oh yeah, the whole death thing.” How could I possibly forget?

  “It’s not on the table anymore. You should know that. You’ve earned your place in this family.”

  “I have?” It was crazy that that comment made me happy, but it did. I literally felt lighter, less weighed down.

  She nodded. “In the short time you’ve been here, you’ve become the daughter I never had. You didn’t even hesitate when you helped Kristian get his car back. You’ve really embraced us. The least we can do is embrace you, whichever way you come.”

  “Oh God.” I couldn’t contain the tears. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me—even if it had started with a reminder about the threat of marriage or death. “I don’t know what to say.” There were tears and snot. I was a blubbering mess.

  “Come here,” Jasmine said, putting her arm around me and giving me a hug that I so greatly needed. I’d existed so long without much affection that each kind touch felt like the unshackling of chains. “Has Sam told you much about me and where I came from?”

  I shook my head, then used the bottom of my shirt to wipe my eyes and nose. I needed a tissue. “Not much. Only that you learned everything from their father, and that he’s in prison now.”

  “That’s some of it. Although, I started into this life all on my own. You see, you and I, we have a lot in common.”

  “We do?”

  She nodded. “My mother was an addict too. Heroin was also her drug of choice. She didn’t hide it as well as your mother must have and preferred a hit over feeding her child. Which is why I learned to steal to survive. And I got really good at it. So good that it became my business. It might seem like a strange choice of vocation to someone like you, but we all have our place in this world. This is mine, and I won’t ever apologise for it.”

  “Cartwrights don’t apologise.” I stated, repeating Sam’s most ingrained lesson.

  She tucked my hair back from my face. “That’s right. But we understand and support each other. And I understand better than anyone what it’s like to be the last choice in the eyes of the one person who is supposed to put you first. I want you to know that you aren’t the last choice in mine. You are one of us now, and we all want you here. Do you understand that? We want you here.”

  I sniffed, the tears coming hard and fast. I had no chance in stopping them; she was saying all the things my heart needed to hear and it was bleeding freely. Jasmine was a hard woman. Just by the way she carried herself, I could tell that she had fought for everything she had in this world. But her love for her family was fierce, and I knew she’d do anything for those she loved. Now she was telling me that she counted me as one of them, that I belonged. I had never belonged anywhere in my life.

  “Thank you,” I forced out through my sobs. “You have no idea what that means to me.”

  She put her arms around me and held me tight. “I think I have a fair idea.”

  I nodded and held her back. Of course she understood. She probably understood the feeling of not being enough better than anyone. There was something intrinsically damaging about a mother’s rejection, something only another rejected soul could possibly understand.

  “What do we do about Sam wanting kids?” I asked when we pulled apart. I loved that Jasmine wanted me in the family no matter how damaged my insides were, but what about Sam? He didn’t come back. How would he feel towards me knowing I wasn’t entirely complete?

  “When you and Sam are both ready, we’ll find you the best doctor money can buy. And if it doesn’t work, well, we’ll just steal a kid for you.”

  I lifted my head, gasping in shock.

  She laughed. “That was a joke. Get it? Because we’re thieves.”

  “I’m sorry, but that was not even a little bit funny,” I told her, completely serious.

  Pushing my hair behind my shoulder, she smiled, still amused by her crappy joke and my reaction to it. “I think it’s time we got you a phone and a car. I don’t want you feeling like a prisoner anymore. I want you to feel trusted.”

  “I already have a phone and a car,” I responded. “You could just give them back, you know.”

  “Oh, baby.” She chuckled. “No you don’t. They’re long gone.”

  “Oh.” Of course they were.

  “It’s OK. We’ll get you better ones. The best of everything for my kids. You just relax, let your family take care of you.”

  Sam returned a little before the sun went down. I’d barely eaten all day, barely done anything more than close myself in our room and cry and wait. No one could shake me out of my funk, not even the twins and their comical stories about their landscaping business—Abbot had mowed over a garden gnome, and then Kris had glued its head on backwards. Jasmine had been sure to keep me hydrated, but I couldn’t stop worrying about Sam. He’d been gone for so long.

  Maybe everyone’s wrong. Maybe he doesn’t want me anymore.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, breaking the cardinal Cartwright rule the moment he walked through our bedroom door. I didn’t care, I needed him to know that I really was sorry for not telling him about my condition. Despite Toby’s and Jasmine’s reassurances, I wouldn’t be OK until I knew Sam still wanted me. I’d rather die than feel worthless around him. I didn’t want to live in this house and be married to a man who had no desire for me. I just couldn’t.

  “Don’t,” he said, his teeth clenched. My chest fell along with my plummeting stomach.

  “Oh.” I sat up and slid off the bed. “I’ll… I’ll stay in the guest room tonight, then. We can work out what to do next in the morning.” Every word came out as a slight hiccup and a fight against more tears. I stood and looked around, then decided I’d get my things some other time. “I really am so sorry, Sam.”

  “Stop,” he growled, moving in front of me. “Quit apologising, for fuck’s sake. You’re a Cartwright.”

  “What?” Why the hell is he saying that to me now?

  There was no response, only action. His hand spearing into my hair, fisting the strands and clashing our mouths together, his tongue forcing entry as his hands tore at my clothes. I responded in kind, the longing inside me manifesting into a white-hot need that sent my skin burning and my insides yearning to connect with him.

  I didn’t know what this meant. It could be a communication of need or it could be goodbye. It could be the simple taking of what he thought he was owed. The only thing I had any real idea of was my own mind, and I wanted to brand him on my heart and body forever. I pulled him in closer.

  Desperation governed our actions, our teeth clashing, fingers scraping. We got his shirt off, then removed my shorts along with my panties. He pushed his board shorts down just enough to release his cock, and then he was inside me. I cried out from the speed of his intrusion, my mouth dropping open as my head fell back and I let out a long moan.

  If this was the end, if it was goodbye, I knew I’d never know this type of fucking again. My heart was breaking even though my body felt so alive. So full. So… God, I want him to want me. Tears filled my eyes.

  “Fuck. I need you,” he growled, his hips thrusting, slamming against me. “I fucking need you.” Each pump produced a noise from me that was more animal than human. I could barely breathe, barely think, the only movement available to me the rising of my hips as I met his thrusts.

  “Fuck,” I cried as he adjusted his position, tucking his knees and pulling my leg over his shoulder, hitting me deeper. He lifted his hand to his mouth and sucked his thumb before reaching between us and pressing it to my clit. “Oh God.” The word was slow and low as he pummelled and teased, my entire abdomen tensing, rea
dy to detonate.

  “Come, peaches. Fucking come. Squeeze my cock as hard as that sweet little cunt can.”

  “Sam!” My body lifted then shook, the uncontrollable waves pulsing through me, a howling noise climbing up my throat.

  Sam reached forwards and grabbed the bottom of my singlet, tearing it open with one swift movement. Then he pulled out of me, his big dick landing against my stomach just in time to spurt hot cum all over me.

  “Holy shit,” I gasped, watching the creamy liquid leave his body and coat mine. I wasn’t exactly sure how to react. Was he doing this because coming inside me was pointless? But then he placed his hand on my stomach and spread his seed all over my skin, up to my breasts, all over my ribs. It seemed like a weird thing for someone to do and I was confused by the action, but oh my Lord, it was hot. Carnal.

  “Mine,” he said, meeting my eyes. “Do you understand?”

  I nodded, my chest heaving. I was pretty sure he’d just claimed me, marked his territory and all that. He’d given me his answer. He wanted me. This man, this big and beautiful beast of a man wanted me. Still. I wanted to cry, wanted to climb inside him and live there, because you know what? I believed it. I fucked believed.

  I settled for tucking my head into his chest while he held me and placed soft kisses everywhere he could. I breathed in his ocean-kissed skin, a scent that had become so comforting to me. It was on the tip of my tongue to proclaim a deeper feeling for him, but I kept it locked down, knowing that wasn’t where we were yet. He may not understand what love was, but he understood comfort, understood empathy. Nevertheless, there was something he wanted from me, something I might be incapable of giving, and that felt like a boulder in my heart.

  “You want kids,” I whispered, tracing erratic shapes on the skin over his heart.

  “I do. But I was a dick for assuming instead of asking how you felt about it too. I sometimes forget that you aren’t here because you want to be but because we forced you. You probably don’t think you can tell me things.”

  He was right. I’d been careful with my behaviour and the topics I asked about. I never snapped, and I tried to be as agreeable as possible. Still…

  “I do want to be here, Sam. I just need to be sure that you’ll want me if it turns out I can’t give you children at all.” Emotion prickled at the corner of my eyes.

  He leaned forward, his forehead dropping to meet mine. “Yes, Alesha. Do you really think I’m going to give up my unicorn just because her horn’s a little bent?”

  “Thank God.” A laugh burst through my tears and I placed my hands on either side of his face, my relief making my heart feel set to burst. “But promise me one thing?”

  “Anything.”

  “Please don’t ever become a writer. You come up with the worst analogies,” I whispered, my entire body singing from the joy of his return. He wanted me. He knew I was broken and he still wanted me.

  I thought back to an early conversation I’d had with Holland. Maybe I really have struck the forced marriage lottery.

  “If I can’t be a writer, guess I’ll just have to continue being a thief. You think you can handle that?”

  I curled my fingers, my nails scraping against the overgrown stubble on his cheeks. “As long as I have you, I think I can handle anything. You make me feel… right.”

  He chuckled. “Right. I’ll take it,” he said. “I’ll take you too.” He grabbed my hips and rolled until I was on top of him, pulling my face towards his in a long, soulful kiss.

  While we still had a hell of a lot to deal with in our relationship, one thing had become abundantly clear: we both wanted it, wanted each other. At that point, it was more than enough for me, because we’d managed to jump an enormous hurdle together and he didn’t turn me away.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Everyone Has Something To Prove

  “Just look at it,” Sam said, holding his board under his arm and admiring the roiling sea. “It’s bloody beautiful.”

  The water had turned almost freezing, but it was worth donning wetsuits and braving it for the chance to see the sun come up and start my day feeling on top of the world, like I’d wrestled with the power of nature and won.

  Surfing wasn’t just a sport. It was a way of life.

  I’d have laughed at anyone telling me I’d feel that way a few months ago, but since I’d learned, the adrenaline rush that came from a six-second wave was something I lived for.

  My surf lessons had become a family affair. Not only was Kris taking me out, but Sam—perhaps from a little jealousy—had taken me too, as had Abbot and Toby at various times. Each of them had a slightly different style, but they pushed me to do more and brave bigger waves. The first day I was invited with them for their morning surf was like my graduation day—I felt like one of the boys, a true member of the Cartwright family.

  “I don’t wanna admire it, I wanna ride it,” Abbot hollered before running into the surf, his long messy hair whipping about in the breeze as he joined the rest of the locals willing to brave the frigid conditions.

  I’d met quite a few of the locals over the months. The Cartwright brothers had grown up in Torquay and were well liked. We’d even attended a couple of surfing competitions, which had really opened my eyes to this whole other way of life. The professionals rode waves like they had the ability to walk on water. It was magical to see.

  Everywhere we went together, people would stop them to say hi. Girls would smile widely—some would scowl at me—and it was honestly like belonging to some sort of rock star entourage. I may have let admiration by association go to my head a bit, but I’d never been so visible in my life before now. People saw me, said hi to me and showed me the time of day. Suddenly I understood those movies where the girl undergoes a makeover to try and get into the popular group at school. Feeling like someone was so much better than feeling like nobody at all.

  “Who the fuck is that?” Toby asked, a scowl forming on his face as he tilted his head towards a group of three surfers exiting the water. It was obvious that they were talking about us, and their body language didn’t seem like the friendly kind. It was Kris who was the first to recognise them.

  “Watch your keys everyone. This bitch likes taking cars,” he said loud enough for them to hear.

  “That’s the girl who nicked his car?” Toby asked, and Sam nodded.

  I squinted a little to see them in the dim light. It was the girl, the guy called Johno and a third male I’d never seen before.

  “Why don’t you surf another beach,” Sam called out to them. “No one wants thieving scumbags sharing their waves.” Ironic, but I’d since learned that the Cartwrights had many rules. One was that they never stole from their own backyard, and another was that they always knew exactly who they were stealing from. They didn’t take from poor, uninsured people, those who had kids, or the elderly. It didn’t really excuse what they did for a living, but having a moral code certainly made things a lot easier for someone like me to swallow.

  “It’s a free fucking country,” the girl yelled back. Johno gave us one look and started right up the beach.

  “You thought finding someone’s keys meant their car was free?” Kris said, shaking his head. “Oh, I get it now. You’re just fucking stupid.”

  “Come and say that shit to my face, fuckwit,” she screeched, walking backwards behind the men who were with her.

  Kris threw down his board and held his hands out wide. “Fucking come at me, then. Send your mates too.”

  “Ronnie, pick up the pace,” the unknown man snapped, and she turned around.

  So that was her name—Ronnie. Ronnie the car thief. She didn’t look very old. The guy calling her to hurry up was at least twenty years older. A father or uncle perhaps? No, that didn’t make sense. He’d be more protective if he was family, considering Kris was taunting them with every step they took.

  “At least those dudes are smart enough not to pick a fight they can’t win,” Toby muttered to Sam.


  “After the beatdown we gave the little guy, they’d need balls of steel to take on all four of us.” I wondered if the four he was referring to were the brothers including Abbot, or whether he was counting the four of us standing right here—meaning me, the one who’d knocked Johno out cold.

  Before they made it to the stairs, Ronnie turned back and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Watch your back, cunts!”

  We all laughed while Kris held his arms in the air, flipping the bird. Normally I’d be worried they’d go up there and do something to our cars. But since I’d been given the opportunity to get a car of my own, I’d chosen a beautiful big van that all of us could fit inside along with our boards. It was a lot like driving a fridge around the streets, but the space and convenience made it the favourite vehicle for the entire family.

  “Time to hit the waves?” Toby suggested once they were gone. He didn’t need to ask twice.

  When we got back to the house, Nate was sitting at the kitchen counter, drinking coffee and talking to Jasmine. The moment we walked inside, the mood changed. The laughing and joking that was usual disappeared, replaced with something much more serious.

  “I see you’ve replaced me,” Nate said with a smile as his eyes landed on me in my wetsuit.

  “Not like you can be bothered coming out anymore,” Abbot responded, striding straight past everyone and going to his favourite place in the house—the fridge. He pulled out milk and a bowl of fruit. That was when the rest of us jumped to action and moved about the kitchen as a unit, collecting bowls, cereal and cutlery. Jasmine poured everyone coffee, cups lined up in her usual manner.

  “I’ll find the time again,” Nate said, sipping his coffee as he watched the hungry mob in front of him. “How do you like it here, Alesha?”

  I was mid-chew when the question hit, and I swallowed before I was ready so I could answer, coughing a little and needing a gulp of OJ to wash it all down. “I like it fine,” I said when I could speak. There was something about Nate that put me on edge. Maybe it was because when I first met him, he was pretending to be an American called Ben. Maybe I just didn’t like the fact that he stole my best friend away from me—but what else did I expect, really. Stealing was what he did best.