Deserter

by Myers, Shannon

  Her eyes closed for a brief second before she stepped back and began unbuttoning her dress. Each button was undone slowly, her lips pushed into a deliberate pout.

  Celia was going to try to use what was between her legs to get me to change my mind. And I was just enough of a bastard to let her.

  With a rough tug, I yanked her up against my body as the dress puddled around her feet. Her knees moved to either side of my thighs and I palmed her curvy ass, before pulling her onto my lap.

  “Is this what you had in mind?” Her mouth hovered inches above mine and her eyes had gone drowsy like they did when she was turned on, but still she kept the distance between us.

  I swallowed and nodded, wondering again how in the fuck I was going to walk away from her.

  Her teeth scraped along my jaw and she whispered, “Good,” before shifting against the jeans my cock was actively fighting to escape.

  “Fuck, Celia,” I ground out through clenched teeth as I worked her panties down. She moaned loudly as I pumped a finger inside her and I roughly jerked the cups of her bra down before taking one of her fat tits in between my teeth.

  Thrust after thrust, I finger-fucked my wife until wetness coated the inside of her thighs and dripped down my fingers. I’d worked her into a state of oblivion, and I knew she’d submit to anything I wanted.

  “I’m doing this for us, baby.”

  She looked up at me from under her lashes and shook her head. “No. You’re doing this for the club.”

  Her words were like a blow to the face and I pulled my hand from between her thighs. She reached down and gripped my wrist, whispering, “That doesn’t mean I want you to stop though.”

  I shifted her off my lap and retrieved a condom from the nightstand and rolled it down over my cock before facing her again. “Come here,” I growled as I locked my arms around her thighs, pulling until her ass met the edge of the mattress.

  She watched with wide eyes as I ran my cock through her folds before lifting her hips in offering. “Fuck me, Jamie.”

  My face had to reflect the shock I was feeling, and I stopped moving. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d heard Celia curse and it only seemed to happen when I’d pushed her to the limit.

  She was too fucking good for me.

  Her mouth fell open and we both released a ragged breath as I sank into her. She arched her back and locked her legs behind my back, forcing me deeper.

  “Fuck, Celia,” I groaned.

  She brushed her hair back from her forehead with a grin. “Yeah? Like that?”

  When I nodded, she brought the heel of her hand down over her pelvis, compressing my cock to the point that I had to fight not to come. With a shudder, she tightened around me and cried out softly.

  She left her hand in place as her hips rolled forward and I let it happen; I let her use me to get herself off again and again.

  I fought until the blood roared in my ears and my heart felt like it was on the verge of giving out before thrusting in deep and filling her with a growl. Black spots danced in front of my eyes and I fell onto my forearms over her.

  Celia’s mask slipped slightly as she looked up at me and begged, “Please don’t do this. Don’t leave me.”

  I kissed her forehead. “Hey, it won’t be long. I’ll bring you money every few months and Hawk will be here, okay?”

  Several tears gathered near the corners of her eyes. “Please.”

  My heart twisted in my chest, but I knew this was the only way to end the war.

  Death wasn’t into taking bribes.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Celia: 1997

  “Mama, could we get more cereal?” Kate asked.

  “Mama! Sea Wool!” Dakota screeched from the front of the grocery basket, gripping the bar and shaking like she was having a seizure.

  “Mama, did you hear me?” Kate tried again. “Mama?”

  “What, Kate?” I snapped, before taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m just trying to get everything on our list. What did you need?”

  She shook her head. “It’s nothing. Never mind.”

  I let my shoulders drop in defeat before squatting down next to her. “I’m sorry, Katydid. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

  “It’s okay, Mama. I just was wondering if we could get more cereal—if you have enough money.” Her eyes dropped back down to the oatmeal-colored tiles.

  We didn’t, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. She worried about money enough as it was.

  Despite doing everything I could to convince him to stay, Jamie had been gone for just over three months. I’d just been stupid enough to assume that I’d gotten through to him.

  Maybe that was exactly what he’d wanted me to believe.

  “We have enough. Pick one out for you and one out for Kota-Bear, okay?”

  Her eyes lit up and I realized I would’ve bought out the entire aisle of cereal just to see her smile. All she’d done was worry since the night he left us.

  When the cops showed up on our doorstep to tell me that he was dead, I’d collapsed in shock. I never imagined that he’d go through with it—that he’d be okay with abandoning his family.

  To make matters worse, I hadn’t been alone. I’d been forced to watch as Kate fell apart on the floor beside me, her entire body wracked with sobs as she struggled to get a breath.

  That was the moment I began to wish that he really was dead.

  The club moved on—Lucy, Wolverine, Molly, Bear—the people I’d considered family disappeared overnight. If it weren’t for Hawk watching my every move and the fact that Kate really liked her school, I would’ve considered packing them up and driving somewhere he’d never find us.

  As it was, I stayed.

  And I waited for the day when he decided to show up again. I had so much I wanted to say; so many ways in which I wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt us.

  “Mama?” Dakota questioned from her perch in the basket.

  “What, baby girl?”

  She pointed toward a man with blond hair at the end of the aisle. “Dat Daddy? Daddy come home?”

  How was I supposed to explain to a two-and-a-half-year-old that her daddy had decided to fake his death to avoid being arrested and charged with any number of things?

  I ground my molars together and shook my head. “No, baby girl. That’s not Daddy. Daddy went to be with Jesus, remember?”

  “We go to Jesus’s house?” she asked innocently.

  I was about to reiterate why that wasn’t possible when I was interrupted by a sharp, shrieking cry. I turned in horror to find Kate down on her knees, clutching at her chest. “I can’t breathe, Mama!”

  Everything around me faded away as I sat down in the middle of the cereal aisle in my dress and pulled her into my arms. “I’ve got you, Katydid. Deep breaths, baby. In and out.”

  “Is everything okay?” an older woman asked, slowing her cart in front of us.

  I nodded. “She’s okay. She just... we just…” My voice broke and I blinked against the sting of tears. “Her father just passed.”

  “Daddy go Jesus’s house,” Dakota proudly stated.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. Can I help?”

  Kate continued struggling through each labored breath and I continued rocking her as I answered, “I think we’ll be okay.”

  The woman paused as if considering something before leaning down. “Hey, I know you don’t know me from the man in the moon, but I’m a psychologist.” She fished a business card out of her purse and handed it to me. “Dr. Linda Nelson.”

  I shook her hand. “Celia Quinn. This is my daughter, Kate, and that one up there is Dakota.”

  “Mama, Katy go, ‘Aghhhhhhhhh!’” she mimicked with a wide grin. I winced at the sound and shook my head to silence her.

  Linda moved her basket out of the way and came back over. “Hi, Kate. I’m Dr. Linda.”

  She hastily rubbed at her eyes before taking Linda’s hand. “Hello, Dr. Linda. I’m Mar
y Katherine. It’s very nice to meet you.”

  The grocery store wasn’t an ideal place for a therapy session, but I was officially out of other options. I’d checked out books on grief from the library, yet nothing seemed to help. She kept having spells where she became convinced she was dying; as if there was a massive weight sitting on her chest.

  Since he’d been gone, it was like a weight had settled over our entire house. I found myself wanting to go back in time; needing to change how things had happened. Would I have chased after Jamie like some love-drunk teenager if I’d known how it was going to end?

  “Celia?”

  I broke away from my thoughts and looked up at Linda. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

  She tucked a strand of silver hair behind her ear. “I was just saying that it’s common for children to struggle with anxiety after the loss of a parent or loved one. That card has my phone number on it. Call me anytime.”

  “Thank you.”

  Kate’s breathing evened out and we slowly made our way back to our feet. I tucked the card in the front pocket of my purse and shook her hand, knowing there was no way I’d be able to afford weekly visits with a therapist.

  I had to make the money last.

  For how long?

  I couldn’t even begin to fathom a guess.

  I’d considered taking a job but couldn’t afford a babysitter for the girls. On top of that, my only qualification was a high school diploma.

  A piece of paper that meant nothing.

  The college classes I’d been meaning to take had ended up on a shelf, collecting dust, while I ran a household. Now, it was just one more expense we couldn’t afford.

  I could’ve gone to my parents and begged for money, but I refused to give them the satisfaction in knowing they were right about Jamie.

  Kate continued rubbing at her eyes as I grabbed the milk and eggs. “Is there anything else you need, Mama? I could get it for you.”

  I pulled her up against my side. “Katydid, I just need you to keep breathing in, nice and slow through your nose like Dr. Linda said. Then slowly blow it out like you’re blowing up a balloon, okay?”

  She took my hand. “Okay, Mama. I’m sorry.”

  “No,” I scolded her. “Do not apologize for how you feel. You miss your daddy. That’s normal.”

  “Katy!” Dakota cried out, struggling against the belt across her lap. “Yook!”

  We both turned to where she was pointing, and I looked up at the fluorescent lights with a groan when I saw it. I wanted just one outing—just one—where there wasn’t some glaring reminder of Jamie.

  Kate picked up the Spider-Man drinking glass and turned it over in her hands before placing it back on the shelf. “Is it time to go now?”

  I nodded. “Let’s get you two home and down for a nap.”

  “No, Mama. No nap.” Dakota crossed her arms over her chest and furrowed her little brow.

  I ignored her protests and wheeled the cart into a checkout lane. We just had to get out of here. I tuned out the monotonous beeping of the scanner and distracted myself with the tabloid headlines.

  Later, I’d figure out how to avoid public places where my daughter would forever be reminded of the first man she’d loved.

  The first man who’d broken her heart.

  “Ma’am, the total comes to eighty-seven fourteen.”

  I pulled the wallet from my purse and counted out the bills.

  And then re-counted.

  Sixty dollars.

  That wasn’t right. I should’ve had close to three hundred. No matter how many times I counted the cash, it was nowhere near that amount.

  “Kate,” I tried to keep my voice calm. “Were you or Dakota playing with my purse?”

  She shook her head. “No, Mama. Is something wrong? Do we not have enough money for food?”

  Her wide eyes filled with fear and I pasted a fake smile onto my face as I began earnestly searching the side pockets of my purse. “No, baby. Everything is great.”

  I looked over the items on the conveyer belt, trying to decide what we could live without. I’d only gotten the essentials; with the exception of the cereals I’d let Kate pick out and the ingredients I needed for her birthday cake. I wasn’t willing to put those things back.

  Not after everything she’d been through.

  “Is there a problem?” the cashier asked. “Do you need to take some things off?”

  “No,” a voice called from behind. “She’s just dropped her cash.” Linda held up two twenties with a smile. “Here you are, dear. I think these fell out of your purse.

  She and I both knew that wasn’t the case, but her tone left no room for argument.

  “Thank you,” I said, my eyes stinging with unshed tears.

  She squeezed my hand as she placed the bills against my palm. “You are so welcome. You have my number; please call me.”

  I nodded and handed the money over to the cashier, doing everything possible to avoid Kate’s penetrative stare. She was like her father, with eyes that seemed to see right through the lies and into my every thought.

  It was unnerving.

  But not as much as the realization that I’d lost several hundred dollars in cash. I drove toward the house, retracing my steps over the last week.

  Jamie hadn’t wanted our money in a bank, for obvious reasons, and had stored it in a small wooden box under the bed. I’d pulled three hundred out and put it in my wallet. I was sure of it.

  “I picked Kate up on Thursday and then went to fill up the car…”

  Maybe I’d dropped the cash there.

  “Mama, are you talking to yourself?”

  My eyes met Kate’s in the rearview mirror, and I injected as much enthusiasm as I could muster as I answered, “Yes, trying to make sure I’ve got everything to make you the best birthday cake ever!”

  I took the next exit and pulled up in front of the gas station. If I’d dropped the money here, it was long gone, but at least I’d get confirmation that I wasn’t losing my mind.

  I looked back to see that Dakota had popped her pacifier in and was doing the slow blink that meant she was on the verge of falling asleep.

  “Kate, I’m just going to run in here for a second, okay?” She nodded and I locked the door behind me before jogging inside.

  The clerk looked at me as if I’d sprouted another head as I explained my situation to him. “So, you think you lost a couple hundred bucks four days ago and you’re wondering if someone turned it in?”

  “Not quite. Do you have surveillance cameras? Maybe I could just look them over—”

  “Lady, these cameras reset every twenty-four hours. Even if someone did pick it up, there’d be no way for me to verify that it’s yours.”

  I mashed my lips together and nodded before grabbing three dollars from my purse. “Could,” I sniffed as the first tear slid down my cheek. “Could I get a pack of the Camel Straights, please?”

  When I climbed back into the car, Dakota was fast asleep. Kate looked up from where she’d been tracing her name on the window to ask, “Mama, why do you have Daddy’s cigarettes?”

  * * *

  It was just after midnight when I finished icing the last flower petal on Kate’s birthday cake. There was still a load of laundry in the dryer that needed to be folded and put away, but any remaining energy I had disappeared hours ago.

  I grabbed the pack of cigarettes and my cardigan from the back of the sofa before slipping out to the back porch. Some nights, when I couldn’t sleep, I’d sit out front with Hawk, but tonight I just wanted to be left alone.

  There were times when the grief hit me so hard that I found myself wanting to curl up in his lap, just to feel the leather against my cheek or the scrape of his beard on top of my head.

  I ached for the familiar, and I hated myself for it.

  Jamie’s gold lighter was still beside the grill, as if waiting for him to show up. I resisted the urge to launch it across the backyard and instead tapped
a cigarette from the pack and lit up.

  I’d gone twenty-four years without smoking, but the minute the smell hit my nose, I knew I was going to get addicted.

  They smelled like him.

  My lungs protested my poor decision and my eyes streamed as I coughed up smoke. Proving that Kate had come by her stubbornness naturally, I inhaled again and immediately began spluttering.

  Jamie could carry on conversations with a cigarette in his mouth, the smoke lazily drifting out from between his lips. Meanwhile, I sounded like someone who’d narrowly avoided drowning.

  The dry grass crackled as something trampled across it and I leaned forward in the lawn chair, straining to see what was beyond the small porch light.

  I was at a distinct disadvantage, because they could see me quite easily. With the cigarette still in my hand, I reached for the closest weapon—a garden trowel.

  “Who’s there?” I whispered.

  The steps drew closer and I knew the answer before he even moved into the light. It was in the tread of his motorcycle boots; a sound I could still distinguish from others after months apart.

  His blond hair brushed the tops of his shoulders now, but instead of attacking him like I’d imagined doing over the past three months, I found myself wondering if he’d had someone cut it for him like I used to.

  “Hey, princess,” he finally said as he reached the edge of the patio. As he lit up a cigarette of his own and the material from his shirt strained against his biceps, it was impossible to miss the fact that my husband was more muscular than I remembered.

  Maybe he’d been locked away in a gym.

  I took another drag from the cigarette and coughed, “Hey.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up in amusement and I wanted to press my lips to it; like I had that day in the record store. It wasn’t just the cigarettes I was addicted to; it was him.

  And it infuriated me to no end.

  “That’s quite the weapon you’ve got there.”

  I held up the trowel, as if just noticing it. “Oh, this? Yeah, it’s pretty handy when people sneak up on me in the dark.”