#Heart (The Hashtag Series Book 6)

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#Heart (The Hashtag Series Book 6) Page 3

by Cambria Hebert


  Fucking Zach.

  I shoved myself onto the ground and into the shattered window. Sharp pricks of glass cut into my arms, stabbing me in the stomach as if warning me to turn back.

  I wouldn’t walk away from here. Not without her.

  She was responsive when I first saw her battered body inside the car, but by the time I pulled her out, she wasn’t.

  I rushed away from the heap of metal, my lungs and chest tight and seizing from the sharp smell of gasoline. I laid her on the ground.

  She was so bloody.

  So pale.

  So still.

  Her eyelids looked purple against the rest of her ghostly face, and her lips…

  They were blue.

  “Ivy!” I panicked. “Baby!”

  Nothing.

  Sheer terror grabbed me like icy, sharp talons. My hand shot out and grabbed her chin and pulled her face toward mine.

  “Open your eyes right now!” I demanded.

  She didn’t.

  I squeezed her chin until my fingers hurt, but not even that made her wake.

  She was too pale, too still… too blue.

  “Noooo!” I screamed, my voice hoarse with emotion and strained in defeat.

  She was dead.

  Ivy was dead, and I was here… alone.

  Chapter Two

  Ivy

  It was happening again.

  I knew it before he even started moving. The tension coiled in his body, the way his fingers gripped the blankets with so much force it was a wonder they weren’t torn in two.

  I’d become attuned to sleeping with someone who was haunted by nightmares. I’d become attuned to reading all the things Braeden never said.

  There was a lot.

  A lot of torture.

  A lot of pain.

  A lot of fear.

  When he started thrashing about, I moved on instinct. Not away from him, though, toward him. Even during a night terror, when he was clearly out of his mind, I wasn’t afraid of him. I would never be afraid of him. I loved him far too much for that.

  I didn’t think twice when I reached for his hands. The granite-like strength of them beneath my palms didn’t faze me even a little.

  “Braeden,” I whispered loudly. “Everything’s okay.”

  “No,” he half groaned, half sobbed. The sound tore at my heart. It did every time.

  I tightened my hold, but he started fighting against it, against me.

  I was knocked away, my body caught by the mattress, and a pillow skidded over the side and landed on the floor. Prada untangled herself from the sheets and looked up at me with wide eyes.

  “It’s okay, pretty girl,” I crooned.

  She glanced over at Braeden at the same moment he flung out his arm. She leapt off the bed and went to her dog bed in the corner.

  “Don’t leave me,” he sobbed. The guttural sound, the sheer pain in those words was a knife to my heart. I froze, momentarily stunned by the grief and torment in his voice.

  It was the first time he’d said that during a nightmare. But this was the longest one yet. Usually, I could quell the worst of his upset with a touch or my voice. Usually, his eyes would spring open, unfocused and blurry, and find me.

  Tonight, he was too lost for that.

  He thrashed again, and I ducked out of the way, narrowly avoiding being shoved off the bed. I thought about yelling for Romeo, worried maybe I didn’t have the strength to subdue him.

  I didn’t, not really. Not physical strength anyway.

  But I had another kind of strength that far outweighed muscles.

  And I wouldn’t call for Romeo when it was me Braeden needed most.

  I moved fast, straddling his hips and pressing my body over him. The weight of me sitting on him made him pause in struggling.

  “Braeden,” I said, firm.

  Both his hands caught my wrists and squeezed. He squeezed so hard it hurt, but I said nothing and I didn’t flinch away.

  I wanted to press my hands on his shoulders and pin him down completely, but I couldn’t disengage from his grip.

  “Braeden James, look at me,” I demanded.

  His eyes snapped open.

  My heart broke.

  Tears swam in their surface. Real, raw emotion. He looked up, reality crashing back into his world as a single fat tear fell from the corner of his eye and trailed down the side of his face.

  Inside my chest, the beating of my heart slowed to a heavy thud.

  I think most people want to find a love that’s so strong nothing can break it. I think most people fantasize about becoming someone’s entire universe. The feeling is almost like a drug.

  But just like any drug, there are side effects to a love so unflinching.

  Pain.

  Weakness.

  Fear.

  I’d never seen Braeden cry. Until now.

  Until the reoccurring nightmare of me dying in his arms won its first round.

  I wanted so badly to wipe that tear away. His grip was still so tight, almost unbearable, yet I acted as if I didn’t even notice. I leaned down close to his face.

  “I’m here, my love,” I whispered, gentle. “I’m right here. Warm and breathing.”

  I didn’t know exactly what he dreamed almost nightly. He never would admit the details. But I knew it was always about the car accident the night Zach died. I knew in it, I was always the one who died.

  His grip relented, and I took his face in my palms after brushing at the wetness on his cheeks. I couldn’t even tell you what it did to me to see such a strong man cry.

  “I’m right here with you, B. Exactly where I belong.”

  “Ivy.” His voice was gravelly, like he was in danger of losing it.

  I nodded, and a few long strands of silky hair fell over my shoulders and dangled between us. One of the strands dragged across his chest, and he sighed.

  I wore it straight and long a lot these days. It was a lot of extra work, but I found the way it brushed against him as a quiet caress at night calmed him in ways my words could not.

  True to my thoughts, his fingers found the strands and he carefully wrapped his hand around them.

  A sigh of relief filled the space between us, but I knew it wasn’t going to be enough.

  Not tonight.

  I still saw it in his eyes. The emptiness. The horror. The darkness he tried so hard to keep hidden.

  “You’re here,” he murmured, tightening his hold on my hair.

  I nodded and caressed his face. “I love you, Braeden.”

  He made a sound deep in his chest. The wariness in his gaze hurt. Not because he was unsure if this moment were real or just another dream, but just the fact that he had to wonder.

  He was tortured.

  I reached up and untangled one of his hands and laid it against my chest. “Feel that?” I whispered.

  He nodded.

  “See, I’m alive. You saved me. Everything’s fine.”

  His hand spasmed against my chest, and his molten eyes flared. Suddenly, the fear in the room turned to desperation.

  I gave in, instantly. After what just happened, I was feeling a little desperate, too.

  His ability to move fast always surprised me. Before I knew what was happening, he was on top of me, his heavy, sweat-dampened body pressing me into the mattress. He braced his hands on either side of my head. The look in his eyes was fierce.

  I spread my legs.

  His nostrils flared, and then in one hard, fast stroke, he plunged into my body.

  I cried out, not because it hurt, but because it was so sudden and he was so incredibly hard. He usually didn’t penetrate me this way. Despite me telling him over and over that I could handle it, Braeden was still very careful with me.

  My cry must have broken a little of whatever emotion he was lost in, because his body went taut and he stared down at me.

  I didn’t give him the chance to think. I tilted my hips up, forcing him deeper inside. And just like that, he
was lost again. The little bit of clarity left his gaze and his eyes slid closed. His face was both a mask of pain and awe as he started moving.

  My inner walls felt tight compared to his throbbing, solid length. It was almost like he’d grown bigger or I’d grown smaller since we’d last made love.

  But tonight was different.

  Tonight, Braeden needed something from me, something he never asked for. And though my heart felt bruised for him, I was also oddly endeared.

  This was just another way he was opening up to me. Another side of him he was finally letting me see. Almost our entire relationship, Braeden was nothing but strong. Nothing but unbendingly protective, almost impenetrable.

  And even though right now it was his steely cock literally pounding into my entrance, it wasn’t me who was being penetrated. It was him.

  I was finally getting into that very secret, very unknown side of him. The side where his deepest feelings lay.

  The place B himself likely never acknowledged.

  Above me, his body forcibly shook. I felt the tremble in his arms as his cock speared me over and over. He was anything but gentle; tonight he was greedy and rough.

  When his hand fisted my hair, I allowed myself to be jerked upward, my head leaving the pillows so he could assault my mouth with his.

  Our teeth gnashed together, but neither of us pulled away. This side of Braeden was addictive. I kissed him back, meeting his demands—keeping up with them even—without making any of my own.

  I wanted him to have everything.

  I wanted him to take it all.

  He ripped his mouth away and growled—the sound more animalistic than human—and he buried his face in the side of my neck. He tucked one arm beneath me, flattening the palm of his hand beneath my ass and thrusting my hips up so I was tilted even closer against him.

  I whimpered when he hit a spot that sent chills racing up my spine.

  His teeth scraped over my collarbone as his other arm flung out. I felt him grip the top of the headboard, bracing himself against the bedframe.

  With the angle of my body and his newfound leverage, he pushed so deep I felt the tip of his swollen and pulsing head at the entrance of my womb.

  I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

  I failed to breathe. I failed to think.

  He’d never been so deep.

  And that spot he’d hit just moments ago?

  His cock was now pressed against it, rubbing as he thrust as deep as a man could go inside a woman.

  A guttural sound left his lips, and he started to pull back slightly. I snaked my arms around his back and kept him where he was. An orgasm was building inside me, teasing me with the sweet promise of bliss.

  It was almost painful how strong my need was to release. Something in the back of my mind whispered I should let him pull out just a little. But then the rest of me, the harlot who wanted insane pleasure, told that part of me to shut it.

  I knew when I fell, it would be the most powerful climax I’d ever known. The walls of my core were flexing so firmly around him I wondered if he could feel it.

  As if to answer my unspoken question, the hand holding my ass in place tightened. His palm filled with my flesh, and he shoved deep with a hoarse cry.

  I made a sound and clung to him, holding him tight as an orgasm ripped me in half.

  I didn’t know I was biting him until, right next to my ear, he said, “That’s it, baby. Use your teeth.”

  Still completely in the throes of an earthshattering orgasm, my teeth sank farther into his shoulder.

  He growled, and I literally felt his cock pumping his release. I whimpered as my body milked him, demanding every last drop he had to give. Even after his muscles relaxed, he was still hard.

  I collapsed against the bed, embarrassed that tears dashed to my eyes. Emotion so swift and strong rushed into my chest; it was all I could do not to cry.

  What the hell kind of woman cried after sex?

  The kind of woman who has powerful, barrier-busting sex.

  I squeezed my eyes closed as he moved inside me, a few more long strokes that felt like a sinful massage after a hard day of work.

  When he pulled out and collapsed beside me, I couldn’t move. I knew I needed to clean up, but I just didn’t care. In that moment, feeling the evidence of his release against my thighs was so satisfying.

  It was assurance that Braeden got whatever it was he needed from me.

  “Ivy,” he breathed and reached for me.

  I cuddled up to his side, and his arm fastened around me. His lips brushed over my hairline in a gentle caress, and then within seconds, his breathing deepened and sleep claimed him once more.

  Chapter Three

  Romeo

  Getting out of bed sucked.

  Especially when it was early, cold out, and my sexy ass woman was pressed up against me, naked.

  I thought about slowly waking her up, teasing her folds open with my lips, and penetrating her with my tongue until she was drenched, breathing heavy, and ready for my cock.

  Yeah, the idea had merit.

  Okay, it was the best idea I’d ever had.

  But I held myself back.

  Ever since I’d put that ring on her finger and I came home for the off-season, I’d been on her like yellow on a taxi. She never complained. Hell, half the time, she started it. I actually didn’t plan on giving her much rest either, but this morning I would. She was sleeping so soundly when I slipped out from beneath her, I knew letting her rest was the best thing.

  But there were no breaks for me.

  I pulled on some workout shorts and went into the gym, pushing the door around, but not latching it. Closing it all the way only resulted in Murphy sitting outside and meowing like he was being tortured. Last time I did it, he woke Rimmel, and she’d come bursting into the room without her glasses, no pants, and wild hair, thinking there was some emergency.

  It’d been funny as hell.

  However, she didn’t think so.

  So now I left the door open slightly so Murphy could satisfy his curiosity by looking in here and then disappearing.

  I started out with some light calisthenics and then pushed some earbuds into my ears and pulled up a running mix on my phone. The off-season was time for players to let their bodies heal from the constant abuse they were put through during football season. We were told not to train too hard or too long, that our bodies needed time to recover just like our minds.

  I still worked out almost every day. I wasn’t about to lose any of the conditioning I’d worked on for the past several years. My arm was back full strength, and I’d finished up the season really strong. So strong that I had another three-year contract already signed.

  And damn, the money was fucking sweet.

  If I’d thought one million had been a lot for my first season… well, the number I was getting now made that literally look like change one found in the couch cushions.

  I knew Rim didn’t care, but I sure as hell liked knowing I could take of her the way I wanted to.

  Dad lined up a meeting with an accountant and financial advisor, and we were meeting with him next week so I could set up some accounts and shit to make sure I had everything in place the way it needed to be. Dad was also drafting up a will for me to make sure everything went into Rim’s name if anything ever happened to me.

  I didn’t like thinking like an adult. It seemed like a foreign concept. I’d rather goof off with B and play ball. But I was an adult now. It wasn’t just age that made me one either. It was experience. Everything we’d been through.

  I had a wife to think about.

  No, technically, Rimmel and I weren’t married yet, but the second I put that ring on her finger, she became my wife to me. It wasn’t a feeling I planned on fighting. She was it. My heart knew it. That’s all that mattered.

  The amount of money coming at me was insane. I needed some help on how to handle it all. Sure, my family had always been well off. I’d
never wanted for anything, but even my parents didn’t have the kind of money I did now.

  I wasn’t about to blow it all on stupid shit. If we were smart, we could live on what I was making for the rest of our lives. Thinking about the future was something I’d been doing a lot of lately. I had everything I wanted right now. It was all pretty fucking perfect.

  I knew how easily that could change.

  It hadn’t been an easy road to get to this point, and as basically the head of this family, it was my responsibility to make sure if shit went south, we’d all be taken care of.

  But for right now, everything was good.

  The stuff that mattered anyway. Sure, there might be some drama brewing with the Knights. Nothing I couldn’t handle. I wasn’t about to participate in it, but I’d keep an eye on it.

  Just another reason to maybe put a little pressure on Gamble to sign B already. It was in the works; we had a meeting with Dad later today.

  We = me + B.

  It’d be nice to have my best friend on the field with me again. And even better to have someone I trusted completely to watch my back.

  Not that I felt threatened.

  Yet.

  If the past had taught me anything, though, it was just because something didn’t appear threatening at first, it didn’t mean it wasn’t.

  Cough, cough, *Zach* cough, cough.

  I bumped up the speed on the treadmill a bit to go harder, pushed the thoughts out of my head, and focused on the run. When that was done, I hit the weights until the back of my neck prickled with awareness and I knew I wasn’t alone.

  She was turning away to scurry off when I caught her out of the corner of my eye. I went on alert immediately because I knew if she was hovering this early in the door where only I was, she needed me.

  I thought back to the shout I heard early this morning, but then it was followed by silence.

  I had a sinking feeling whatever she was about to tell me was going to threaten the “good” that our family was finally getting back to.

  Chapter Four

  Braeden

  I reached for her.

  She wasn’t there.

  All traces of sleep and comfort burst like a balloon hit with a dart. I jerked up, blinking, trying to assimilate my surroundings. The room was dim, but daylight pushed at the edges of the blinds. Ivy’s pajamas (my shirt) were draped over the corner of the bed, and her scent lingered in the room.

 

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