by B. B. Hamel
“No,” I whisper. “That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is.” He looks at me, suddenly angry. “Men like Ingram always win. Don’t you understand that yet?”
“He doesn’t have to win here. You have me on your side.”
He softens a little bit at that. “I know, but it might not be enough.”
I grip his comforter and stare at him. “I won’t let this go.”
“Good. Neither will I.”
I chew on my lip for a second. “Where do we go from here?”
“We play ball,” he says. “We negotiate, make a contract, keep moving forward.”
“And let him win?”
“I didn’t say that.” He sighs. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”
I stand up. “I’ll go. I probably shouldn’t have come.”
He looks at me. “I’m glad you did.”
I stare back. “Yeah. I’m glad I did too.”
For a second, I want to go around the bed and kiss him. But instead, I turn and walk away, leaving his room and shutting his door behind me.
Later, in the car, after I’ve calmed down a little bit, I remember what he said. He got attacked because of me. I don’t know exactly what he meant by that, but I can guess.
Ingram knows that I like Samuel. He knows we have a good relationship, and he wants to break us apart, because we might be able to beat him if we work together. Of course, he has no clue about the baby inside of me. He has no clue how deep and intense my bond with Samuel is becoming.
And I don’t want him to know. I’m terrified of what he’ll do if he finds out. Ingram clearly isn’t against doing some horribly unethical things to get his way, and I’m not going to risk my baby.
I grip my steering wheel in sudden surprise. I didn’t know I felt that way about this baby. Honestly, I’ve been pushing it out of my mind, trying not to think about it at all. But I suddenly realize that I’m going to keep it, no matter what. Part of me was considering adoption, and abortion was never an option, but I know I can’t go through with that. I’m going to raise this baby, whether Samuel wants to be involved or not.
I need to tell him. I know I have to tell him, sooner rather than later. I just don’t know how to do it, and this is the absolute worst moment. I’m so dug in deep here, and I don’t know how I’m going to get back out again.
14
Samuel
I have to lay low for a few days before I feel good enough to leave the house.
My bruises are still there, but starting to turn sickly yellow at the edges. That’s a good thing, Sarah says. I’m lucky she’s a nurse and willing to help me out, because there’s no fucking way I’m going to the hospital for this shit. I can barely move around without pain, although it’s getting better every day.
Amelia doesn’t visit again, doesn’t contact me. I’m not surprised. I blamed what happened on her, or at least I suggested it was her fault by proxy. I was fucked up on pain meds and didn’t mean it that way, but I can only imagine how it felt to hear me say those words. I wish I could take it back, but there’s nothing I can do about it now but go forward.
I told her I wouldn’t back down, even if the part of me that thinks we can really win this is slowly shrinking smaller and smaller.
I shuffle into The Shaft, and the place is nearly packed. Every miner that isn’t on duty is here right now, and most of them are drunk or at least getting there. Roy spots me right away and comes over, a concerned look on his face.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks me.
I nod, shrugging off his offer of help. “I’m fine. Just need a drink.”
“You got it.” He heads off to grab me a beer from the bar. I shuffle further in, nodding at guys, shaking hands, and everyone treats me like a fucking hero.
Except I’m not. I just got jumped by some dirty cops, took a beating, and survived it. I didn’t do anything worth their adoration, but the guys all seem impressed by me, which I don’t get at all.
Roy shoves a drink into my hand. I take it from him, drink half of it down real fast, and lean up against the bar.
“You’re sure everyone’s here?” I ask Roy.
He nods. “I’m sure. What’s this meeting about, anyway?”
“You’ll see.”
He looks concerned. “Listen, Samuel. I know you’re pissed. But don’t do something stupid, okay?”
“This isn’t the first time I got my ass kicked, probably won’t be the last. I’m not doing anything because of that.”
He grunts in response and sips his whiskey. “I’m just saying. You’re not out of this yet.”
I meet his gaze. “I know I’m not. That’s exactly why we’re here.”
We don’t say anything more until I finish my beer. When I’m done, I give him a nod and shuffle toward the back of the bar. Guys start to notice as I climb up onto a chair, pushing away Roy as he tries to help me. It hurts my ribs like a motherfucker, but once I’m up there, I’m the tallest guy in the fucking bar.
And everyone’s looking at me. Slowly, conversation dies down. I don’t have to say a word, and eventually the whole bar’s silent except for the sound of the bartender cleaning glasses and pouring drinks.
“You all know me,” I say finally. “You all see what happened. Who here thinks a little pain’s going to stop me?”
“Fuck no!” Vernon shouts from the crowd. A bunch of other people take up the cheer, and I hold up my hands.
“That’s right. Fuck that, I’m not backing off. They think they can break me, beat me down, make me accept any old contract and fuck you boys over. But they’re so fucking wrong it almost hurts.”
The boys cheer again and I grin at them, basking in it. “I called you all here for a reason. I’m going to ask you all to do something with me, something that’ll hurt them. And it may hurt us, too.”
“We’re with you, Samuel,” someone yells, and it takes me a second to realize that it’s Arnold.
I’m surprised, but I nod at him. “We’re not going to let them walk all over us. We unionized for a reason. We have fucking power.”
The boys all cheer again, and I take a deep breath. I know what I’m about to ask is going to be unpopular, but I also know they’ll do it. They’ll suffer for me, because they believe in me.
I just have to hope that their belief isn’t misplaced.
“Two days from now,” I call out, clear and loud, “we’re walking off the job. We’re shutting down that mine for one day, and we’ll see what those fucking bastards think about us then.”
The boys go nuts, cheering, and I can’t help but grin. They’re excited now, heady with joy and a little drunk, but the fact of this is going to settle over the next few hours. They’ll complain, bitch and moan, but they’ll do it, even if it hurts.
I climb down off the chair. Roy looks at me, frowning.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks me.
“They beat the fuck out of me,” I say to him plainly. “That’s the only language they speak.”
He sighs, but he doesn’t argue.
I limp over to the bar and take a shot of whiskey. More guys shout at me, shake my hand, clap my back, and I endure it all with a grin. This is my job now, to smile and to lead them. I can’t let them see the cracks in my façade, not yet at least.
After a half hour, I check the time and limp back outside. I get into my truck and drive over to the Evans Energy offices. It’s just after five, but I know Amelia will still be in her office as I ride the elevator to the top floor. The place is mostly empty, but sure enough, Amelia’s door is slightly open and there she is, sitting behind her desk.
She looks up as I limp in. She’s surprised and stands. “Samuel,” she says. “What are you doing here?”
I shut the door behind me and walk to her desk. “I’m here on business,” I say.
She frowns. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” I say. “Now listen, please. I’m here to warn you.”
“About what?”
“In two days, we’re going to walk off the job. We’re going to shut the mine down for a day.”
She stares at me for a second. “Is that a good idea?”
“Ingram and men like him, they don’t understand anything but strength. If we’re going to get anything, we have to fight back.”
She stares at me and finally sighs. “I don’t like it.”
“I know you don’t.” I drop a stack of papers on her desk. “If they want to avoid the shutdown, here are our demands.”
She picks up the papers. “This is the contract we made together,” she says.
I nod. “Pretty much. I made a few adjustments, but it’s pretty much the same.”
“They won’t take it.”
“They will.” I walk around the desk toward her and she leans back in her chair, looking up at me. I lean down over her, holding onto her armrest, getting near her. “You’re going to convince them.”
She takes a sharp breath. “I don’t think I can.”
“Prove yourself wrong.” I tip her chin up toward me. “Because I believe in you.”
She wants to say something, maybe argue with me, but I don’t let her. I kiss her full and deep and I don’t care about the consequences, about the walkout in two days, about my fucking broken ribs. I need this kiss, her fucking lips, her goddamn body. I need it more than I can even understand.
15
Amelia
His kiss is exactly what I’ve been needing ever since I saw him in bed, beaten and glazed.
I stand up and he stumbles back, running up against a filing cabinet. I press myself against him, but not too hard. He pulls me tighter, kissing me deep and slow, before I reach down to the hem of his shirt and lift it up over his head.
I put my hands on his chest and look down at him as he kisses my neck. The bruises are still bad, but starting to turn yellow as they heal. I bite my lip as I feel his warm breath against my ear.
“Are you finally going to stop pretending?” he whispers.
“I’m not pretending,” I say.
He smirks at me, his hands running down my body. He untucks my blouse from my tight black skirt. His hands slide up and cup my breasts as he kisses me again, sending waves of desire through my skin.
He moves back and finds the zipper on the back of my skirt. He pulls it down, unhooking the tiny clasp, and I let him pull the skirt down over my ass and hips. My blouse drops down to cover my black panties, but he lifts it up, hands sliding along my skin, building my anticipation to levels I can barely stand.
His kiss drives me deeper and deeper into desire. I grab his belt and pull it off. I feel him tense and relax as I get it undone, unbuckling his jeans and pulling them gently over his hips. I reach for his cock and find him hard, straining against his cotton boxer briefs as his left hand reaches up into my hair, pulling it back tightly.
I gasp as he kisses my neck, his other hand between my legs. “Are you thinking about that first night?” he whispers to me.
“Maybe,” I admit.
“You came so hard, I thought you might scream yourself raw. I’ve been dreaming about that fucking pussy ever since.”
“I’ve been thinking about it too,” I admit, taking his cock in both of my hands as I pull his briefs down.
“I know. I see the way you look at me.”
“How’s that?” I ask him.
He grins at me. “Like you’re fucking hungry,” he says, as he presses two fingers inside of me and pulls my hair back.
I gasp, pain and pleasure mixing. He strokes my pussy like that, teasing my clit and sliding his fingers inside of me, his hand tight in my hair. I start to slide my hands along his shaft, trying to stifle my moans.
Part of me is afraid that someone might walk in here, but I’m not going to stop myself. That would be the end of everything, if someone caught me fucking the union head in my office. The ethical questions would be too much, and I don’t know how I’d try and fight any of it off, but right now, with Samuel’s big fingers sliding in and out of my pussy, I just don’t care. I only want him, and him alone.
Nothing else matters. Nothing else could feel this good.
I stroke him faster as his fingers rub my clit, sending pleasure rocketing through my body. I can feel his smirk as I stand up on my toes to kiss his lips. I love that grunt of pleasure he makes as my hands focus on the tip of his cock, working him in circles.
“I’m sick of this fucking teasing,” he grunts, pulling my hair back harder. He grabs my hips and turns me around, pushing me toward the desk, bending me over.
I look over my shoulder as he slaps my ass hard. I gasp and he smirks at me. His body is beaten and broken but he still has that cocky smile on his face, that big bastard. He teases me from behind with his cock and anticipation floods through me, needing him deep between my legs.
He pulls my hair again, making me look back at him. “Tell me you want me to fuck you bent over your desk,” he says.
“Fuck me, right here,” I gasp.
He smirks. “You dirty girl. Aren’t you afraid someone might catch us?”
“I don’t care,” I admit. “Please, Samuel. Just fuck me.”
He laughs softly, but he gives me what I want. He presses his thick cock deep into my dripping wet pussy, making me groan as he pulls my hair tighter.
He grunts his own pleasure as he fills me up. Pain and ecstasy war in my skin, making it so much sweeter as he slowly starts to pump, fucking me from behind.
I move my hips back, needing every inch of him. Samuel’s bigger than I’ve ever felt before, but I love the way he stretches me and dominates me. He’s twice my size and could easily throw me around. He fucks me rough, slaps my ass hard, pulls my hair back.
I turn to look over my shoulder and I notice a grimace as he strokes into me. It takes me a second to realize that he’s in pain, probably from his injuries.
I push back. “Come here,” I say, moving away from him. I take him by the hand and pull him over to a chair, making him sit. He doesn’t argue as I straddle him and slide my ass back and down, sliding all the way down his shaft.
He groans as I ride him, and that expression of pain is gone, replaced by pure desire. He cups my ass and I ride him faster, lips pressed against his. I’m sweating, fucking him, getting fucked, and it’s messy, dirty, fucking incredible. He bites my lower lip, pulls my hair back, and I grind my hips down around his big, fat cock.
“Goddamn, girl, you ride me like you were born for it,” he says.
“I’ve been needing this,” I admit to him.
He smirks. “I know it. Go ahead, girl. Come on my big cock.”
I grunt and groan as I ride him faster. He slaps my ass and I can feel it building deep in my core, that pure pleasure. It’s building and growing from the stress, the pain, the pleasure, everything mixing in this moment, everything coming together to push me closer and closer.
“Lose yourself on my cock,” he whispers in my ear. “This is fucked up, what we have together. We both know it’s wrong. But we both know it feels too fucking good to ignore.”
I groan and I know he’s right. He bites my bottom lip and slaps my ass again as I ride him faster, grinding and moving my hips, working myself into a frenzy. He guides me with his big strong hands, letting me do most of the work, but his heavy breathing and grunts of pleasure and the dirty words he whispers in my ear keep pushing me forward, faster and faster.
And I reach the peak. I come hard, but he doesn’t relent. He starts fucking me, thrusting into me as I orgasm hard on his big cock. He groans and I can suddenly feel his warm, spurting cum filling me up as we both get off at the same time.
It feels so fucking good. I almost black out, the pleasure is that overwhelming. I come hard and slowly come down as he pulls me close against him. We breathe like that together, his cock still inside of me, both of us sweating and tired and spent.
“You’re good at negotiating,” he says finally.
I laugh softly, shaking my head.
I climb off him, and I try not to feel bad as he winces. He gets up and I help him get his shirt back on, then he helps me get my skirt back up. Once we’re dressed, I sit down in my chair again, catching my breath.
“Well, that was a productive meeting, Mr. Carter,” I say to him.
He laughs. “Yes, very productive.” He glances at the stack of papers on my desk and frowns. “Two days, Amelia.”
“Two days,” I repeat.
He nods and hesitates like he wants to say something more, but he just turns and leaves my office instead.
I sit there and watch him go. Once he’s gone, I lean back in my chair and stare at the ceiling.
I’m stuck in the middle of this, and I don’t know what to do. I want to help him so badly, but I just don’t know how. Still, I want more of him, I crave more of him. I need it so badly that it almost hurts.
And throughout it all, this baby is growing.
I pick up the stack of papers and start reading.
16
Samuel
I don’t know why, but I feel optimistic.
It’s probably a waste of energy. My experience so far tells me that whenever something looks like it’s about to go my way, something else is going to come around and fuck it all up. Nothing good lasts forever, and there’s more shit out there than positive stuff.
I feel optimistic anyway. Down in the mine, running the machine, I can forget all about my troubles. The creaking and cracking of the mine, the scream of the machine, the practiced way I work with the other guys to get our job done feels fucking good.
Not to mention everyone’s on board for this walkout. There isn’t a single guy that’s said he won’t do it. I expected some push back and worry, but there hasn’t really been any of that. In fact, the guys seem downright excited.
I don’t really understand it. I think they want to give it to corporate, make them see that we’re not just some idiot miners with no power down here doing slave labor. The guys want to be a part of something, even if that something might lead to them getting their asses fired. I’m trying to make them understand the risks but everyone still wants to do it.