Dauntless (The LockDown Series Book 2)

by Dobson, Shannon

  “Cool, let’s go.” I take her hand, clasping it in my own. It fits perfectly there, just where it should be, forever. It feels so good leaving this goddamn psych centre, ready to start this all over again, to begin anew.

  “I can't wait to see her.” I know how hard it has been on Abigail not seeing Melissa, but I wasn’t having her around Abbi whilst she recovered. She has been in hospital for a month, first starting on a general ward, then moving to a psychiatric ward for assessment and rehab. She has eventually stopped all her signs of withdrawing. The shakes, sickness and full body aching has now subsided and her mental state is in a very good place, well as far as I can tell, and by what the doctors tell me.

  “I know she misses you too. She smiles every time I say ‘Mummy’s going to be home soon’. She needs you just as much as you need her, baby. She is waiting for you now.” I can't wait to get my woman home and into bed. Yes, I know, what a time to be thinking about sliding into her, but it has been a month goddamn it, and my balls are fucking blue.

  I haven’t had any sexual contact, except for kissing, since the one time in her hospital room. I crave her taste, to feel her hot cunt under my tongue, her tiny tight body writhing beneath my touch.

  “Come on, let’s go, Angel.” I pull her from her room at the rehab centre, shutting the door behind us and never looking back.

  Abbi is quiet on the way home, her eyes fixated out of the window. I know what she is thinking. It is the same every time. She is remembering the first time I drove her past these landscapes of Surrey. The first time her eyes had seen green grass and flowers. Every time I have driven my car past them with Abigail considering that view, we have been starting something new. First time, I had rescued her from herself and the life she was living. Secondly, bringing our beautiful girl home ready to raise her together. Now, thirdly, both of us being knocked down so low but having brought each other back up again.

  I haven’t had cocaine in three weeks. For the first week of Abbi’s stay in hospital, I had needed it bad; seeing the way the withdrawals had taken over her body, making her violently ill without me being able to help in the slightest. It had me feeling so raw and open that I needed some way to deal with it. However, after the worst of her rehab had passed, I had been able to open my mind a little and concentrate on what was important. I needed to look after my little girl and not fob her off on my friends. I needed to push through the hard times with my, soon to be again, fiancée. I needed to get her well and back home again, back where she belongs.

  “Baby, are you alright?” I ask her, trying my hardest to distract her from her self-destructive thoughts. They have no place here anymore. Phillip is gone, I know a hundred per cent the rest of his fuckers won't dare show their faces anymore. We have no more threats and nothing to be scared of; we can live like normal people, happy, carefree and safe.

  “Yeah, I’m okay, just having a moment. Just thinking about the times those fields appealed to me so much, the times they represented freedom and a new start.” She looks to me, her eyes glazed, but they are happy. I can see her excitement behind them. Our little girl is waiting at home for her.

  “I know, Angel, and it will be the best new start. We belong together, Abbi, you and I, we are one.” She smiles at me, her sparkling teeth showing through the slit in her lips. She tilts her head to the side affectionately, reaching her hand out to stroke my cheek. I lean my head into her caress, comforted by the warmth and softness of her skin.

  Ten minutes later, we arrive back at our home. The huge gates open up and let us in. I think to myself, as I park the Audi 4x4 outside the front doors, ‘sometimes, you have to go through hell, to find your little piece of heaven,’ and I have found my heaven, truly, a big old slice of it. We have been through every level of hell this month, with Abigail’s recovery, but we have come out the other side stronger. I don't hold any of the past against her. I love her more than I ever have, because of her strength. She has pushed herself through rehab, and I want nothing more than to get her indoors, place our Melissa in her arms and watch the look on her face that she always gets when my baby snuggles into her.

  I open the front door with my key, the wood swinging open wide enough to enable us both through. Abbi walks ahead of me, once again breathing in the smell of her home. “Home,” she says quietly to herself. I can see her cheeks rising from the side, her smile obviously beaming across the huge expanse of the hallways.

  I can still remember vividly the way she reacted the first time I brought her here. She had passed out on me that day; the utter shock of her new home was too much to deal with.

  “Yes, home, it’s complete again.” I tell her, walking up and wrapping my arms around her stomach, splaying my hands against her emptiness. I hope, one day, not too far away, she will bear me another child. I love nothing more than being a father, the feeling is so fulfilling and amazing and words couldn’t describe it. Melissa is everything to me, her mother the same. I will do anything for them; I will fight wars, kill and even die to protect them.

  A cry sounds from the lounge area down the hallway and Abigail’s eyes shoot up immediately at the sounds coming from our daughter. “Melissa.” She looks to me, her eyes full of unshed tears and then she takes off down the corridor.

  I place her bags in the lobby, ready to take them to our room later. I follow the direction in which she had sprinted, no crying present in the vicinity anymore.

  When I arrive, my beautiful woman stands holding our three-month-old daughter in her arms, her little head plastered against Abigail’s chest. The sobs that are erupting from her aren’t natural. They sound like a wounded animal. In some ways that’s exactly what she is, a human being who has been subjected to so much violence, hurt, betrayal and sadness in her life, that when the littlest rays of sunshine show through, she grasps them as tightly as is humanly possible to stop them slipping away.

  I stand in the doorway, my body leaning against the frame as I just watch her reunite with Melissa.

  “Oh, God, my baby girl. Mamma missed you so much, Princess, I’ll never leave you again, never. I'm here baby.” Her tears are coating the thick blonde hair atop our daughter's head and trickling down her soft cheeks onto her baby-grow.

  Antonio and Debbie walk over to me, having been at my place nearly every day to help me out, because of the episode I had after Abigail got admitted to the psych unit.

  After we had sex in the hospital room, Abbi had gone crazy, completely losing the plot. She was crying and screaming for help, clawing violently at my arms, chest and face, telling me to stop laughing at her. Her paranoia and addiction was out of control. I had come home after spending five hours trying to calm her down, before eventually getting her a place in a rehab centre.

  I had come home that night and taken a big hit of cocaine, too big. I was a fucking idiot. I was home alone with Melissa; nobody else was here to keep an eye on her. I had put her to bed, and then persisted to wade my way through two grams of blow. Antonio had come in the next morning to me, past out in my own vomit. Melissa had been screaming in her cot upstairs, having probably woken up an hour before, possibly earlier. He had beaten the shit out of me, busted my lip and split my eyebrow, luckily not breaking anything, although I did deserve it. Heck, I deserved to have my child taken away from me.

  From that point on, I had vowed to never touch it again, and I haven’t, mainly because my annoying best friend has been on my case, practically living here since Abbi was committed.

  Antonio slaps my shoulder, smiling proudly at his niece. Who needs blood these days, these guys and Abbi are the closest and best thing I have to a family, and they are bloody good at being one.

  My own family, those made from blood, had done nothing but deceive me, ruin me, break me into tiny shattered pieces and then shit me out onto the pavement with nothing but the clothes on my back.

  “Hey, man, it’s good to have her back.” He stands beside me, watching the interaction between Abbi and Meli
ssa. Debbie reaches up and kisses me on the cheek, gently stroking my arm affectionately.

  Debbie is an amazing woman; I have never known anyone stronger, except perhaps my own girl. She has, like Abigail, suffered through a childhood of horrific abuse, her own father having sexually abused her and her sister. She had told her mother, who persisted to say she was lying and therefore would do nothing about it. She is now the fiercest girl I know, always standing up for herself, even to the beast of Antonio. I am so happy Ant has found her; she is a brilliant addition to our ever-expanding family, her and her three kids.

  “She looks good, babe,” Debbie tells me, looking back and forth between us.

  “She is good.” I relax into myself, sighing at the sight of her. She is beyond beautiful, even more so holding Melissa. It had broken my goddamn heart to hear my beautiful daughter crying and pining for her mother, this past month. It was my life’s mission to get her back here, healthy and back to her old self. We are so good together, fitting so naturally and perfect.

  I know now, in my heart, my stomach, my mind, everywhere in fact, that we made it this far. We are going to make it. I will knock every obstacle in our way, down to the ground, if they so much as put a foot in front of our journey.

  Abigail

  There is no feeling in this world quite like holding my precious little girl in my arms. God, I have missed her so much, every little thing about her. Even when she cries, screaming at the top of her lungs, nothing soothing her, I still miss her. I hold her to my chest, clinging to her as though I will never see her again. Her little head presses securely to my chest, my lips on top of her mop of hair, little blonde curls becoming sodden from my falling tears.

  I watch through my lashes at Leighton and our friends, as they talk, clearly about my mental stability. Yes, I have in fact, had a mother fucking huge breakdown. After Leighton and I had made love that day, in the tiny metal framed, hospital bed, rekindling and reforming our relationship, I had proceeded to tell him about the past months of my life until that day. I told him how bad things had gotten, how every bad thing that has ever happened to me somehow weaselled its way back into my life all at once; the overload of my guilt, shame and total disgust at my used and abused body, causing a rush of memories I really didn’t want to remember.

  For the first eight nights following that day, I woke in fits of screams the feeling of my father’s hands across my mouth, sealing it tight as he thrust inside of my tiny body. I can remember the excruciating feeling, the smell of his breath and venomous look in his eyes. I can see how much he hates me. I can hear his grunts and Melissa’s screams as they tear from her throat.

  The next week following that, I had reoccurring nightmares, every time I closed my eyes. Phillip Blackman in my home, tying me to a chair, slicing and dicing my skin, a horrible image of his blood soaked hands removing my child from within my stomach. I awake sweating, crying and begging him to stop.

  By this point, they had already committed me, and deep down inside the empty shell that I was, I knew it was the best thing Leighton could have ever done for me. I hated him at the time, loathed him for refusing me my child and I wanted to hurt him physically when he had near dragged me into my temporary home at the psych unit.

  My withdrawal from the tranquilisers my body had come to need like the air was horrific, absolutely degrading, vile, inhuman and disturbing to be quite honest. My body ached like a motherfucker, my head was spinning and throbbing like someone was banging it against a wall, all at once. My limbs felt detached from me, numb the majority of the time. My stomach constricted and relaxed over and over, resulting in horrendous bouts of diarrhoea and sickness, then the next minute severe stomach pain, similar to labour. In fact, I would take labour over that feeling any day. At least at the end of it, I was gifted my beautiful daughter. I suppose in a way, my withdrawal was gifting me the same thing, the chance for a new start, a chance to make up for the hurt and pain I seem to take everywhere with me.

  I gently shake my head, desperately trying to remember what the therapist had told me. “Do not dwell on the past, Abigail, it cannot be changed. You have chosen this path, but you have the option to bend it to your will. Focus on the future, on what is in front of you, and then the rest will fall into insignificance.”

  My ears and eyes tune into the laughs and smiling around me, even Melissa, all of three months old is smiling and attempting pathetic adorable giggles. I am thankful to God every day that Leighton has given me another chance to redeem myself. I will make it right again. He has told me repeatedly, he is over what has happened, that he is more focused on his family now, and living life the way we should. He reassures me there is no threat anymore and we are now able to live as a family, risk free.

  I walk over to my friends and soul mate, Melissa now cradled in my arms, drifting off. Leighton wraps one of his arms around my waist, pulling me to his side. My head instinctively falls into his shoulder, comforted by the firmness of his muscle and the musky scent that lingers there. “Hey baby, you really missed her, huh?” Leighton asks me as he kisses my forehead and looks down at our little girl.

  “I really did, so much.” I kiss her soft curls once again and then worm my way into the conversation filtering around me.

  I don't miss the arousal infused glares Antonio is throwing my way, his dark eyes fucking me. They travel the length of my body, up and down repeatedly, his tongue occasionally wetting his dry lips. His hand is in front of his groin concealing the rock hard erection I know he is sporting. The slight clearing of his throat every so often has my knickers wet instantly. I love that I drive him as crazy as he drives me. It has been months since our little foursome, months since Leighton agreed to let me fuck Antonio, and months that the orgasm with his name on has been trying to claw its way out. Sure Leighton is a good fuck, scrap that he is phenomenal. The dominant thing is a total turn on for me and I am looking forward to venturing into this a little more with him, but Antonio, dear god the man is an Adonis. A giant of a human, with huge muscles, a dick that, even thinking of it, has me wanting to mount him and ride it deep and hard.

  “Leighton, she is doing it again.” Antonio alerts everyone, his deep erotic voice plaguing my entire being with shivers, causing a great wetness to pool in my pussy, more than before. I am practically gushing for the man.

  Leighton looks to me, his eyes staring into my own. It will be evident there, that my arousal is through the roof. His lips lift in a delicious smirk. The hand he has around my waist slips down a little, resting against my backside, clasping the rounded cheek. A single, long finger rubs between my cheeks, the tip brushing gently and ever so slightly, against my wet pussy.

  I let out a groan, loud enough for the three of them to hear. I haven’t had any sexual contact, except for kissing, for a month now and my vagina feels as though it may have re-flowered itself, I’m sure I am as tight as a nun.

  “God, you are hot and wet, Abigail. Is it because you are perving over Antonio again?” I ignore him, my eyes once again finding the man in question just at the mention of his name.

  He removes his gliding fingers and squeezes my arse cheek, hard, a biting pain rushing through me causing me to yelp. “I said, are you looking at Antonio again, Abigail?”

  “Ye...Yes, I was, Leighton.” I look to the floor; the pink of my cheeks is most definitely spreading across the entire surface of my body as I feel like a scorned child, his tone somewhat scary.

  He lifts his hand a little, smacking my right cheek slightly. “Did I give you permission to eye fuck my best friend, Abigail? Did you ask if you could, in fact, gawp at him like a zoo animal?”

  Is he being serious? I have no idea for sure. I'm not used to this extremity in regard to his dominance and therefore have no clue how to react. Since his declaration, I have thought long and hard about what he wants from me. I know I will do it, there is no doubt about it, I will do anything to make him happy, but that isn’t to say the thought doesn’t scar
e the shit out of me.

  “No, Leighton, you didn’t say I could. I'm sorry I didn’t ask you.” I remember he had said I could be with Antonio, but only at his say so. So I guess, eye raping the man, has the same rules? Fuck if I know.

  “Fuck, man, she is a bloody natural,” I hear Antonio tell Leighton, my eyes still fixated to the floor, almost ashamed at myself for not thinking before I let my stupid horny brain take over my rational thoughts.

  Leighton moves his hand back to my waist and pulls me to him, his lips reaching my hair and placing feathered kisses to the crown. I look up to him when his soft lips move, his smile is intoxicating, causing my own to spread across my face. I know now, that he is only mucking around, he isn’t actually upset with my perverted mind.

  “She’ll be perfect in no time at all. I have a lot of faith in her; I should have seen it in her to start with.” I smile to him, the expressions of his pride and faith in me, warm my insides up, melting my fluttering stomach.

  My sleeping baby stirs in my arms a little, as I readjust her to stop the numb feeling in my shoulder. “Do you want me to put her to bed sweetie?” Debbie asks me, her face just as beautiful as it always has been. She has a radiant glow to her, almost heavenly.

  “I’ll come with you babe, I want to change her into her sleep clothes and settle her down.” I lean up into Leighton’s hold, kissing his lips lightly. “I’ll be down soon, baby.”

  “Take your time, darling. I'm not going anywhere.” I walk through the lounge, Debbie in tow.

  I place Melissa on her changing table, now getting too small for her, and remove her day clothes. The cute little jeans and knitted jumper she is wearing, discarded into the dirty-clothes basket and her stinky nappy changed for a fresh clean one. I lean down and place kisses upon her bare tummy, the gorgeous baby smell infiltrating my nostrils. God, I have missed this, being a mum.