by Cat Porter
Proof.
Testimony of his compassion, his pain, his deep and dark beautiful love, his brave buckled soul. Cold hard evidence of it in my very hands right now. How could he feel alive to me in a pair of ordinary scratched sunglasses that I held in my grip? My fingers tightened around the metal and glass.
All these years of my purgatory, he was rightly being worshiped and prayed for by a young girl I hadn’t even known existed as her avenging angel, a noble and brave martyr to her salvation. And we—his brothers, his old lady—had done what? Blithely commended him as a martyr of that arrogance and devil-may-care attitude that had typified him.
I clutched the glasses to my chest.
“Never forget you, baby.”
A moan escaped my lips. My vision swirled. A huge wave washed over me, pulling me under.
“I’m sorry! Oh God, I’m sorry.” Jill’s tiny voice seeped over me.
Becca cried out, shrieking.
“Grace!” Tania warbled from a distance.
A vintage radio losing contact.
Static.
“Never forget you, baby.”
Nothing.
HEAT PENETRATED THROUGH MY CLOTHES, warming my flesh. My body was tightly clasped, my face buried in a firm warm wall, and the strong aroma of paint and damp skin filled my nostrils. Miller’s skin. I pressed closer into him. A sigh escaped my lips, my muscles loosening.
“Hang on, baby. Taking you home,” he said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.
My eyelids cracked open. It was dark. Was it night already?
The gearshift of Miller’s truck was gripped by a woman’s hand, her pale skin illuminated by the glow of the dashboard and control panels. Whoever was driving was driving real fast. The drone of a motorcycle flared behind us. My pulse tripped. I rubbed my face in Miller’s chest and let out a moan.
“Stop the truck!” Miller growled, his body tensing around mine.
We came to a swerving halt, the bike groaning behind us. I gulped for air as my head rolled back, my eyes straining to find his black ones. Had to.
There.
His large hand cradled my face. “Grace, you need to go to the cemetery? We’ll go. What do you want, baby?” His hand swept to the back of my head.
I blinked.
Those eyes.
His molten beautiful eyes searched mine for an answer. I had an answer—there was only one—with all the certainty in my soul.
“Home.” My voice creaked from my dry lips, my icy fingers curling into the worn cotton of his T-shirt. “I want to go home.”
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, the lines of his face softening, as he rubbed the back of my neck.
The truck jumped into gear, lurching forward. Miller’s arms tightened around me, pulling me closer. I sank back into his chest once again, planting a kiss over his heart, and closed my eyes.
Within minutes, my body recognized the twisted turn and the jolts of the rocky dirt road leading to our house. The truck bumped to a stop, and the door jerked open. The motion sensor popped on the bright white lights. Miller held me in his arms and got us to the front door. I peeked over his shoulder. Tania and Boner stood in front of the truck, her holding both our handbags. The two of them were speaking, their faces drawn.
Miller set me down on our big sectional couch and immediately bundled me up in the large charcoal-gray wool throw. He brought me a glass of water and wrapped himself around me again, none too gently planting kisses on my forehead, as I took sips of the cold liquid.
“Better?” He wiped a strand of hair from my face. “You ready to tell me?”
“Is Boner still here? I need to ask him—”
“Right here,” said Boner in the doorway, the sunglasses case in his hands.
Tania was at his side.
I sat up. “Did you know? Did he tell you what he’d done? Did he tell you why?”
Boner sat down on the coffee table in front of me, his knees rubbing mine. “I only cleaned it up after. He’d called me, told me he’d gotten into a scrape, and asked if I could grab a couple of brothers to get rid of any evidence and the body. And that was what I did. Didn’t know about any girl. He never said nothing about it to me. I didn’t question him about that shit, Grace. I trusted his judgment.” His thumb rubbed over the surface of the Ray-Ban case in his hand.
“You’d met her back then.”
He nodded. “It was a bad time. We had the cops and the Feds breathing down our necks. She showed up, and I kicked her out. I figured she was just another girl. Told her never to come back again. Told her to keep her trap shut about knowing him, never to mention you or the One-Eyed Jacks to anyone. Ever.”
“You made an impression,” muttered Tania.
“Yeah. She was a kid. I made sure I spooked her off. Had Dready follow her, and I kept tabs on her for a bit. Never any problems.”
“You recognized her today, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did.” Boner gave Miller the Ray-Ban case. He leaned over me and planted a kiss on my cheek.
I sank back into the sofa, wrapping myself up in the throw again, and stared into the empty fireplace.
A hand squeezed my shoulder. “You need anything, Grace, anything at all, you call me.” Tania turned to Miller. Anytime.”
“Thanks.”
The door closed, and Miller’s body was around mine again. His fingers found the silver ring on my thumb.
“Dig’s?”
I took in a breath. “Boner had it. He gave it to me yesterday.” I stretched out my hand in his much larger one. “Why did he keep it a secret from me? We got into a fight about the diamonds, the gold. I figured he’d killed Mole, but when I reacted—and I reacted badly—he didn’t defend himself, didn’t tell me the reason.”
“It was something he needed to do, it went deep.”
My head sank against Miller’s shoulder.
“It was good, Grace. A very good thing.”
“It got him killed.”
“Yeah, it got him killed, and look what got my brother killed. Jack shit. Is Dig’s a nobler death because he died for a good cause? Maybe. I don’t fucking know anymore. Does it even matter in the end because the result is still the same? Both of them gone, ripped from their lives, from us.”
He sighed and leaned his head against mine.
“I used to think that what was left was only what was in his coffin.” I touched the Ray-Ban case. “But it’s bigger than that, different than the things they actually left us—the bikes, a business, the houses, money.”
He squeezed my hand. “How are you feeling about Jill?”
“She was afraid I’d hate her once I knew the truth, but I don’t hate her. She didn’t get Dig killed. If I hated her, it would negate Dig’s decision, which was no decision at all—not for him. That had been his fight. It had been a burden to him, but it’d defined him. I only wish I could’ve helped him through it, made it better somehow. Maybe I should have pushed him more. I don’t know. But look what he did for her—not only saving her from more rape and torture and probably death, but she also went on and had a life. Her own child. Got out of a bad relationship, stuck up for herself. She has professional goals, dreams.”
“He inspired her.”
“I think so.” I curled up in Miller’s arm and peeked up at him. “What better way to bring our baby into the world?” I whispered.
“What?” his voice softened.
“She offered to be our surrogate.” My one hand rubbed over his chest. “I can’t help but feel that somehow, someway, he’s giving us this chance.”
Miller kissed me lightly, his hands sifting through my hair.
“I like that, him giving this to us. Like he’s watching over us somehow.” I slid my forehead to his. “I love you, Miller.”
“I know you do, baby.” His warm hand moved around my neck.
“He felt so guilty about you when Wreck was killed,” I said against his lips. “He was always hearing the sirens after that.” I sucked in air
and buried my face in his neck.
“Shh…” Miller rocked me in his arms, the firm muscles of his back rippling under my fingers. “I didn’t hate him, didn’t blame him or anyone else. It was just such a shock. You don’t ever expect the earth under your feet to give way. It gave way for me that day.”
I clung to him. “Boner gave me this ring to snap me out of my head mess. I wore it, and she saw it. That’s more than good timing, that’s…”
“Convergence.”
I smiled as my hands raked through Miller’s hair, and I rose up in his lap. “I can’t ignore that. I don’t want to.”
“What are you saying?” His hands slid around my ass, pulling me into his body.
“I found you,” I whispered, my hands cradling his face. “The very day I stepped foot back into South Dakota, I found you. Now, I found Jill. I found her when she needed me, and I needed her. Not all those years ago when I wouldn’t have been able to listen to her without anger and bitterness. I wouldn’t have been able to see it, understand it like I do now. Now.”
Tears spilled from my eyes, and he wiped at them and licked them from my hot face. My mouth found his, our tongues seeking each other. I dug my fingers into his neck, and a groan escaped his lips.
“Grace.” His hand dipped down the gap in the back of my jeans, sliding under the thin elastic of my panties, cupping my ass.
“Wait, baby. Wait.”
“Ain’t waiting.” His voice was hoarse, his breathing short and choppy.
“I want to call Jill right now. She needs to hear from me, and I need to make sure she’s okay. I want her to know that I’m grateful for her, that I’m grateful for what Dig did. I’d like to ask her to go to Dr. Carollton with us. What do you think?”
Miller stretched back and took in a deep breath, his lips twitching. He reached for his cell phone on the coffee table without disconnecting us, his head swinging up at me. “I’m good with it. You sure?”
“Very sure.” I grinned. “Very, very sure. Ah, and then I have to tell you all about our little adventure in Nebraska.”
His eyebrows slammed together. “I heard. Not happy. Creeper is a dead man.”
“Baby—”
“That slime grabbed my old lady. Again. He’s gonna pay, and I’m gonna make him pay.”
“Honey, Butler was there—”
A muscle in his jaw tensed. “Yeah.”
Still a sore subject.
His hands wrapped around my neck, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t know what the fuck he’s up to, but I’m glad he was there. If anything had happened to you, Grace…”
I clutched his shoulder. “Butler’s out there on his own, cleaning up. He’s got some sort of plan brewing in Nebraska with Creeper as his bargaining chip. He’s leaving Jump out of the loop. You and Boner should have a little chat about it.”
“Fuck.”
My lips twitched, and he smirked.
“Love that grin.” His thumb rubbed across my lips. “Missed it.”
An ache careened through my chest. “I missed you,” I whispered. I planted a kiss on the bump on his nose and then another along the scar down his cheek.
“Don’t shut me out again, Grace. Don’t hide from me. Not from me.”
I hugged him. “I won’t.”
He pushed me back against the sofa, and I let out a huff of air.
“Baby, hang on. Let me call Jill. One sec. Please!”
He ignored me and unbuttoned my jeans, sliding the zipper down. My stomach dipped at the light touch of his fingertips. He let out a low growl as his hands snuck under my shirt, skimming my bare skin, making heady promises.
“Miller…”
His tongue prodded the satin trim of my panties. “Make the call, and make it quick, baby. I got to get inside you.”
“THEY’RE STARTING NOW.” The nurse smiled.
“Thank you.” Miller turned to me and lifted his eyebrows.
I grinned as he took my hand in his and led me back to the small sofa in Dr. Carollton’s waiting room.
In the two weeks since Jill’s confession, we had gone to Dr. Carollton, and Jill had undergone all the appropriate tests. She’d passed them with flying colors. We’d trooped across the state to the lawyer’s office in Sioux Falls to sign newly prepared surrogacy documents, arranging for payments and care and protecting all of us on this journey toward the birth of a new life.
Our new life.
It was finally happening. The transfer of our Flies as Eagles embryos into the hopeful safety of Jill’s haven.
Tania waited with us, shuffling through every magazine in the office and on her phone checking in with Lenore who was babysitting Becca.
Miller’s fingers suddenly tensed around mine.
A nurse stood before us. “It’s done. She’s resting now.”
“Can we go see her?” I asked.
“Sure. Come with me.”
“Go,” said Tania, a smile lighting up her face.
With Miller’s one hand at my back, we followed the nurse behind a closed door.
“Hey,” Jill whispered.
I took her hand. “How are you doing? You feel okay?”
“I’m fine. It went great.”
I placed my other hand over hers and squeezed. “Thank you.”
She slightly shook her head against the table. Her eyes filled with water. “I need to thank you, Grace. This is my answer, too. This giving back to you. To him.”
“You picked a hell of a way,” Miller said.
An hour later, Tania brought Jill home and had her tucked in bed.
Stopped at a red light, I raised myself up in the seat of the Harley and pressed myself against Miller’s back, my mouth at his ear. He relaxed his head against mine.
“Can we go home first before we go to the shop?”
“What is it? You okay?” He raised his voice over the hum of the engine.
I only squeezed his middle. The light turned green, and Miller punched the Fat Bob into gear. We tore out of Rapid, speeding off for Meager.
Forty minutes later, I jumped off the bike and sprinted to the front door. My entire body was tingling with giddy energy. My heart raced as my key turned the lock, and Miller’s big hand pushed the door open. He hustled me inside, away from the cool air, the sun’s mild rays doing nothing to warm us. I threw the keys and my bag on the floor, flung my leather jacket to the side, and tugged his off his frame.
He let out a rumbly laugh. “Babe?”
“Make love to me. Now. Now that our baby is finding its home inside Jill, starting its life, getting cozy in its little nest, I want to make love for us and make love for our baby. He might not be in here”—my hands went to my tummy—“but he is, all the same. Fill me with us, Miller.”
His face tightened, and he picked me up in his arms and brought me down the hall to our room.
He laid me on our bed, his eyes holding mine. My heart raced as he quickly peeled off his clothes, my hands stroking over his smooth firm flesh. I wanted him to strip off my clothing, to take me the way he wanted to, from start to finish, to be his. For this to be ours. He did just that and slammed into me without preface.
“Fuck, I love you,” he murmured over me, his voice shuddering. “Love you, baby.”
He slowly pulled himself out and rocked right back in even deeper. We both groaned loudly, our lips searching each other’s. My hands slid to his face, and we held each other’s gaze as his cock dragged out and slowly thrust inside me once again, savoring its home. My hips rose, pleading for every thick inch of him inside every inch of me. We ground into each other, our bodies lost in a fevered rhythm. His teeth grazed my shoulder, his groans filling my ear. I never wanted this to end, never wanted it to change, never wanted to not feel this, because this is what had made our baby.
Yes, there was some sort of holy coordination of past and present in the making of our child, but this, this was its essence.
Heat flooded my insides, need searing through my flesh, joy squeez
ing my heart. “I love you, Miller.”
“Aw, Grace.” His groaning with every slow, long thrust filled our bedroom.
“Yes, yes.” My voice choked, my body on fire.
His one hand cupped a breast and squeezed it, kneading it. He held me, held me down, and I came, as he thrust deeper and faster, coming inside me. But I didn’t want to let go of him, didn’t want any kind of disconnect. I wanted to feel it all again, surge into him. Again. Until there was no Grace, no Miller. Just us.
I wriggled against the heat of his heavy body, my sensitive clit pulsating as my legs squeezed around his hips. His mouth nuzzled my throat as I rubbed against him, circling my hips. My hands clung to the firm muscles of his rear, and he held himself still, murmuring filthy encouragements against my damp skin. He slid his index finger into my mouth, and I sucked hard on it as his molten needy eyes held mine.
“Fuck, baby.” He took it away from me and drove it into my rear.
I cried out, a rush of pleasure detonating through me. “Oh, you play dirty.”
“That’s the way you like it.” He chuckled as he nipped at my throat.
I tugged on his hair. “More,” I whispered against the side of his jaw, down to his smiling lips. “Miller…more.”
Two weeks later, I got a call from Dr. Carollton. I gripped the edge of my desk at the shop as his words penetrated. I held my breath as I tapped on the phone’s screen, ending the call. The phone slid from my hands, clattering on my desk, and I ran through the door leading into the shop.
Boner’s eyes widened at me.
Tricky raised his head from the interior of a car engine. “He’s painting—”
I ran.
Miller peeled off the disposable togs he wore while spray painting. His dark brows lifted as he yanked the cover off his head, his hair sticking out of his man bun. “Babe?”