“Will I?” It was as if the last three months were on a never ending loop.
“How long is Kyle sleeping at night now?”
I tilted my head to the side at her question, wondering why she’d ask it. “About five, maybe six hours if we’re lucky.”
“Remember when it was three?”
I stared at her for a beat and then looked back at the two car seats in the back seat of her white Mercedes SUV that could hold seven people. The car seats were revered and I couldn’t see Kyle’s sleeping face, but thinking back on it, Ryan was right. Kyle was sleeping more and so was I. Things were getting better. Was it that easy, though?
I turned back to her. “He is getting more sleep now.”
“It will get easier, Spence. And remember, you can always call me. I miss my best friend.”
“I miss you too.” We smiled at each other. Even though she moved only two blocks from me and I’d spent a week at her house during the day when we got our security system, we weren’t doing our friend thing. We wanted to grow our families together and having her so close was perfect. “We should have play dates twice a week or something,” I suggested.
“What if we incorporate dinner? During the day, we do our mommy thing together: the park, doctor appointments, going to the grocery store—whatever. And then we’ll make dinner for Max and Brandon for when they got home from work. It would be like a couple’s thing at night,” she countered.
Ryan already took me to doctor appointments and the grocery store when Brandon wasn’t available because of Michael, but hanging out with her—like really hanging out with her, was what I missed.
“Sounds like a plan.”
She pulled into the one story building’s parking lot and we took the sleeping babies out of the car. Once I’d found the correct suite number, we entered a small reception area. There were magazines on an end table that sat next to a couch, pretty assorted flowers sat in the center of a coffee table and abstract paintings hung on each wall. There was no receptionist, but a light next to the door that led back to somewhere. Next to it read that my therapist was in session.
I was early for my appointment, so Ryan and I read magazines and talked quietly while we waited. After five minutes or so, the door opened and a man came out and left. Then a woman with wavy brown hair, and glasses perched on her nose, came out.
“Spencer?” she asked, looking back and forth between Ryan and me.
I stood. “That’s me. She’s here as my ride and to watch my son.”
She stuck out her hand. “I’m Rita.” We shook hands. “Come in.” She gestured for me to enter the door.
It was small like the other room with various floral paintings on the wall, a couch on one wall and a chair across from it that was separated by a glass coffee table that had a box of tissues and a pitcher of water on it.
“Have a seat.” I sat, my palms clammy as my nerves set it. I didn’t know how therapy worked, but I was nervous wondering how deep into my feelings we’d go. “Did you bring the paperwork?”
“Yes.” I handed her the five sheets of paper that I’d filled out asking me my symptoms and how it was affecting my everyday life.
“I’ll go over this after you leave. I want you to know that this is a place where you can let your feelings out. I’m not here to judge you. I’m here to listen and help. I tell all my patients that you’ll start out with more bad days than good, or perhaps even all bad days. Then you have a few good ones here and there. Then you start having more good days than bad. Then one day you realize you’ve had only good days. This is a process and healing won’t happen overnight.
“In the meantime, don’t let bad days define you or defeat you. It’s okay to have them. It’s okay to feel the bad feelings. Just don’t let them convince you that the progress you’ve made is gone. You’re still moving forward, even on the rough days. Just continue to do the things you need to do to take care of yourself.”
I gave her a nervous smile. “Okay.”
For the next hour, Rita listened as I poured my heart out, sobbing while I told her about the attacks on me and how I was feeling about being a mother. After the appointment, I felt as if the clamp around my heart was loosening—almost like a kettle letting out steam.
When I exited the small room, Ryan had my phone in her hands. I blinked at her wondering why she would have my phone in her hand.
“I’ll see you next week,” Rita said.
I smiled at her. “Okay.”
Once we were out the main door of her office, Ryan handed me my phone. “Brandon has been calling non-stop.”
“Why didn’t you answer it?” I wondered, grabbing the phone from her.
“Because he doesn’t know where we are. Why would I answer you phone?”
“Right,” I grumbled. Now that I had a safe place to share my inner thoughts, I felt better about being open with him with my feelings.
Once we were in the car, I dialed Brandon. “Where are you?” he questioned instead of a hello.
“With Ryan.”
“Are you on your way home?”
“Yeah. What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing bad. I need to tell you something and I want to do it face to face.”
“Um … okay. We’ll be there in like ten minutes.”
*
Ryan parked in my driveway when we arrived back at my house. I half-expected Brandon to come outside to make sure I wasn’t hurt or something from the way he called me fourteen times while I was in my session. Instead, Ryan and I got the kids out of the car and Kyle started to cry. In turn, Abby started as well.
“Guess they’re hungry,” Ryan said.
Story of my life. “Yeah,” I sighed and opened the front door. Brandon and Jason were sitting on the couch, watching TV. When they saw me, Brandon stood and Niner rushed over to greet me.
“Why are they crying?” Brandon wondered, reaching for the car seat in the crook of my elbow.
“It’s time to be fed.” I looked at Jason and smiled brightly. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“You’ll see, but don’t mind me. Bec whipped her titties out so much—”
“No,” Brandon said. “You’re not seeing my wife’s boobs.”
“Or mine,” Ryan chimed in. “I’ll just feed her real fast and then head home.”
“Do you have a bottle in your diaper bag?” Brandon asked Ryan. She nodded.
“Give it to me.” In the mists of the crying and conversation, Brandon had taken Kyle out of his car seat. He handed him to me. “Bounce him for a second or something. I’m going to warm a bottle, too.”
“I can go upstairs,” I offered.
“Everyone needs to be here for this,” he called out on the way to the kitchen.
“What is he talking about?” I questioned Jason, bouncing Kyle to try to get him to stop crying for a few seconds.
He grinned. “You’ll see.”
I turned to Ryan and she had Abby out of her car seat and was bouncing her as she tried to shove a pacifier in her mouth.
A few minutes later, Brandon came back and handed us each a bottle. “Will you give Kyle to Jason to feed?”
I looked at Jason and then back at Brandon, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”
“I think it would be best if Jason held Kyle while I tell you what I need to tell you,” Brandon explained.
I turned briefly to Ryan and she nodded that it was okay. This was part of my healing—to trust in people that I trusted enough to care for my baby.
“We’re all staying right here, babe,” Brandon continued and stepped closer to me. He reached up and held my face with one hand and looked in my eyes. “Nothing will happen to him. Remember, we left Kyle for a few hours and he was okay.”
I nodded and handed Kyle to Jason.
“Now come sit next to me on the couch.” Brandon grabbed my hand. “Ryan, you might want to sit down, too.”
I watched her sit, confused what was going on. Was this an intervention for me? If
so, where was Becca? Ryan hadn’t mentioned anything? And why wouldn’t she have answered my cell phone when Brandon called fourteen times?
Brandon cleared his throat, bringing my gaze back to his. He briefly looked over at Jason and then back at me. “We went to San Quentin this morning—”
“You did what?” I snapped, my hand instinctively coming free from Brandon’s grasp.
At the same time of my comment, Ryan whisper-hissed, “Oh shit!”
“Just let me explain,” Brandon said.
I half turned to Jason, pointing my index finger at him. “You let him go see Michael?”
Jason opened his mouth to speak, but instead, Brandon spoke, bringing my gaze back to his. “We know it was stupid—”
“You can say that again,” Ryan mumbled.
Brandon continued, “But I didn’t see him.”
“Why not? They didn’t let you guys in?” I questioned.
“They let me in,” he confirmed.
“Just you?” I questioned, looking at Jason briefly and then back to Brandon.
Brandon nodded. “Yeah. We didn’t know why and I didn’t question the guard. We just went with it—”
“You were going to see him alone? Are you crazy?” I raised my voice.
“I wanted answers,” he pleaded. “There were correctional officers and guards all around and I didn’t care about anything except you and Kyle at that point.”
“But you didn’t see him?” I questioned, confused how he could walk into the prison and not see Michael.
He took a deep breath. “To make a long story short, I walked inside and was escorted to a room where the warden came to speak with me.”
My eyes widened. “The warden? What did the warden want with you?”
He smiled causing me to be even more confused. “Michael was killed yesterday in a fight.”
My hands flew up to my mouth as I gasped.
“Are you fucking for real?” Ryan boomed.
Brandon turned to her and nodded then looked back at me. “He’s dead, baby. He was stabbed by another inmate and killed. Because we were his victims, we would have been notified even if I hadn’t gone to the prison.”
I couldn’t believe it. It was over. No one would ever be after us because Michael wouldn’t be able to pay anyone to help him. I stared into Brandon’s brown eyes, not saying anything.
“Are you okay?” Brandon inquired. I nodded, still not able to say anything.
“I think she’s in shock,” Jason chimed in.
“Aren’t we all?” Ryan asked. “That guy was a piece of work and got what he deserved.”
“It’s over?” I questioned, barely above a whisper.
Brandon pulled me into his arms and we sank into the couch. “Yeah, babe, it is. It really fucking is.”
Chapter Fourteen
Brandon
After a few weeks, I decided it was time to take Spencer on another date. She was making progress in her therapy and having more good days than bad.
I was proud of her.
Life was starting to feel normal, or what I assumed normal felt like with a five month old baby. So being that it was Friday night, I’d told Spencer I wanted to take her out. Even though Kyle was five months, we agreed that she wouldn’t go back to work until he was six months old. We wanted to make sure that Spencer was in the right frame of mind being that Better Keep Jogging Baby was in the city and forty-five minutes from home.
Wanting to get Spencer thinking about tonight, I texted her:
Me: Wear a skirt tonight.
Spencer: Where are we going?
I smiled and texted back:
Me: It’s a surprise.
*
A little after six I arrived home from work, ready for a shower and to spend the evening with my wife. I pulled into our two car garage and when I entered our house, Niner greeted me, wagging his tail. The sound of running water could be heard coming from upstairs as I started to make my way to our bedroom.
Kyle was asleep in his bassinet that was starting to get too small for him. Once Spencer was one-hundred percent okay, we’d move him into his crib in his room. I kissed him on the forehead and then went into the en-suite bathroom where Spencer was showering.
“Hey,” I called, the steam engulfing me as I opened the door.
“Hey,” she called back.
I started to strip off my clothes to join her. “What time is Ryan coming over again?”
“Seven-thirty,” she said from behind the glass of the shower door.
I nodded and opened the door. “Good. Just enough time for me to fuck you before we get ready.”
She bit her lip and looked down at my hardening dick. “We better hurry before Kyle wakes up.”
“Turn around.”
After she had, I placed her hands above her head on the wall and nudged her feet apart. My hands glided over her slick curves and she dropped her head, resting her forehead on the tiled wall. I ran my hands back up her body and then took each breast in my hands, lightly squeezing them and she hissed. I glided my hands back down her body and slipped one hand between her legs as she sucked in her breath.
“Shit. You’re soaked.”
She moaned a response and then I slipped two fingers inside her while rubbing her clit. I nudged my cock against her ass, needing the friction. Usually, I’d make her come at least once before I slid inside her, but knowing we didn’t have much time, I needed to be buried deep inside her as we both came.
“Do you want me to fuck you like this?”
“Yeah,” she panted as my fingers pumped in and out, my thumb rubbing hard against her clit.
So, I did.
*
After dinner at MoMo’s, I drove us to Club 24.
“What are we doing here?” Spencer wondered.
“Dancing.”
She grinned. “Oh …” We started to walk around the side of the building toward the front of the nightclub. “Why don’t we just go in the back?” Spencer inquired.
“Because this is more fun.”
I grabbed her hand and led her down the sidewalk to where people waited in line to be let in. The bouncer saw me approach and unhooked the red velvet rope to let me through.
“Why does he get to go in?” I heard a guy ask.
“He’s the owner,” Marcus explained as Spencer and I smiled and walked passed Tiffany, who was waiting to collect money for entry once Marcus let them in.
“I feel like a celebrity or something.” Spencer giggled and started to walk up the stairs that led to where the bumping music was playing.
“That’s how I roll,” I joked and we laughed more.
Once we were on the second floor, I saw multicolored lights dancing with the bodies on the dance floor. I heard the music more clearly as it rang from the hundreds of speakers I knew we had throughout the entire floor. I could practically taste the booze as I watched the bartenders mix and pour drink after drink.
“Shots?” I yelled into Spencer’s ear so she could hear me over the loud music.
She yelled back. “Getting crazy on me, Mr. Montgomery?”
I grinned at her and took her hand, leading her toward one of two bars that were diagonal from each other in opposite corners. Once we made it through a sea of people standing and chatting near tables and VIP booths that were filled to capacity, we stood behind people waiting for our turn to order our drinks.
Blair from behind the bar caught my eye and straightened. I chuckled, figuring he’d just looked up to see his boss staring at him. He said something to the two chicks in front of me and they turned and eyed me curiously. Spencer’s hand tightened in mine and I tilted my head in question, but then they moved and we were able to step forward to the solid dark wood bar.
“Relax,” I shouted to Blair for him to hear me. “I’m here to dance with my wife tonight, not check up on you.”
He laughed and smiled at Spencer. “What can I get you?”
“Fireball!” Spencer shouted, and the
n turned to me. “We can feed Kyle with bottles until it’s out of my system.”
I chuckled. “Four shots of Fireball whiskey.”
He grabbed four shot glasses and the amber liquor then poured our poison. I grabbed one and handed it to Spencer and then took one for myself.
“To dancing.” I winked.
Spencer laughed, knowing exactly what I meant. “To dancing.”
We clinked glasses and then downed the spicy whiskey. The cinnamon burned my mouth as the alcohol warmed my belly instantly.
“That’s so good,” she yelled and reached for the next one.
I spoke in her ear, “Slow down, baby. We’ve got all night if you want. Plus, this is your first drop of alcohol since you had Kyle.”
“It’s just one more.”
“I know. I was just reminding you.”
She picked up the other shot glass and we clicked them together and then drank it down.
“Are you ready to dance?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No, I need at least two more of those.”
“No, you don’t.” I laughed and brought her hips closer to mine so we were only an inch apart.
“Are you trying to get in my pants?”
I leaned down and spoke in her ear again. “You’re not wearing any, but I would like to see if I could make you come on the dance floor again.”
Her eyes became huge and I saw her swallow. “We can’t. You own this place.”
“Only my staff knows that and with all these people here, they won’t see.”
She looked around. “Exactly, all these people.”
Taking my index finger, I ran it from her cheek, across her chin and down her throat to the valley of her breasts—slowly, then back up to her lips. She swallowed hard as I ran my finger across her bottom lip and her tongue lightly slipped out, tasting the tip of my finger.
Our gazes locked as the music thumped in my ears. People walked by and even my employees were only a few feet away, but at that moment, I only had eyes for Spencer. No distraction—no commotion—no interference was going to stop me from seducing my wife.
Her mouth slipped open and I stuck my finger in a little, letting her wet it. I groaned, my dick straining against the zipper of my jeans. If I weren’t careful, we wouldn’t make it to the dance floor. I’d take her down to the parking lot and fuck her before heading home.
Down on Me (Club 24 #7) Page 10