by Amelia Shea
Fifteen minutes later, she came down the stairs and into the kitchen to find him sitting at his small table. He looked up from his lap when she came in. She had never seen this look from him. He looked almost sad. He had a bottle of beer and a photo album in front of him resting on the table.
“Hey.”
He said nothing. He stared back at her with something in his eyes. She always saw confidence in his eyes, no matter what situation they had been in, but now all she saw was doubt.
“What’s going on?”
“Sit.” He nodded to the chair across from him and she slowly walked over and sat down.
“I was wrong for telling you to go, making you upset, fucking making you cry. Kills me that I did that to you.” His gravelly voice held so much emotion, so much pain, that she felt it.
“T,” she whispered, getting him to look at her. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not, Cass. I…I’ve never felt this way about anyone. The first time I saw you, I fucking half fell in love with you like some poor pussy. Then, I heard you talk, saw how you were, all nice and caring. That fucking did me in.” He paused before continuing. “Seeing you with your family, and then my family, I was done. You fucking owned me. You made me think that this hard bastard that I am, a guy who treated women like shit, scared the piss out of people, and trusted no one but my family…that I could have you and everything that comes with you. Your love, your trust, that big fucking heart. I want it.”
“T, it’s yours…” Cassie whispered. She got up from her chair just wanting to fold her arms around him and comfort him but he put his hand up to stop her. She slowly sat back and waited.
Waited for him.
He reached up to the table and pushed the album in front of her. His dark eyes filled with sadness and watched as she opened it up. The first page was a police report; the second was a report from children’s services.
Tegan Ross.
She fingered through the album from page to page. Starting from the age of two and every year after, there were reports of alleged abuse. Unexplained bruises and welts. Broken arm at the age of three. Fractured ribs at the age of six. Two fingers broken at the age of seven.
Cassie flipped to the next page. Letters from school and concerned teachers urging children’s services to look again into this child. Letters begging for something to be done.
Then the pictures—eyes swollen shut on a mop-haired toddler, the welted back of a rail-thin nine-year-old. Scrawny arms filled with cigarette burns.
The last page was an enlarged photo of a battered, almost unrecognizable boy at about eleven years old. He lay in a hospital bed with a cast on his arm, his chest wrapped in gauze, gashes on his other arm and neck. Cheek with a handprint and a deep cut across the top of his ear. Cassie peered through tear-filled blurry eyes at the boy. Tegan Ross. The most gut-wrenching part of these photos wasn’t the awful, hideous pain this kid had to endure. It was his eyes—a vacant, emotionless, unloved stare peering into the camera.
A boy without hope.
Cassie’s eyes held the boy’s stare in the picture.
“That was the last day I saw them, my parents. They beat me so badly, doc said it was a miracle I survived. Overheard him telling the cop that he’d never seen something so horrific done to a child. Spent twelve years in hell but that was the last day.”
“How could they do this to you?” she whispered, tears streaming down her face.
T let out a breath. “Don’t know. They’d been beating me since I could remember. They’d beat me for small shit like spilling something then make me promise not to tell. I was a kid, didn’t know better. I thought that was how everybody lived.”
“But the reports, they never helped you?”
“Hard to pull a kid from his home when he’s swearing that he fell off his bike, that he tripped down the stairs. I never gave them any doubt that what I was telling them was the truth. I’m sure some knew, they didn’t care enough.”
“Where are they now? Your parents.”
“She’s dead. He’s in jail.”
“For this?” She slid her fingers gently over the picture.
“He did six years. Got out and went back in months later for manslaughter, been in ever since.”
“Have you spoken to him?”
T shook his head. “He started sending letters a few years back. I toss that shit when it comes. Don’t want them, don’t need them.”
“You never read one?”
T paused and looked down at the photo album in front of Cassie. “Once, I was drunk, got a letter, read it. Just bullshit about being sorry, wanting my forgiveness. Lived in hell for years and this motherfucker wants forgiveness because he found God. ’Cause now he’s sorry? Fuck him.”
“I’m so sorry, T.” Her soft sobs rang through the kitchen.
“Pix, look at me.” His voice was quiet, no longer holding any rage.
She looked up at him. His head was bent low and his eyes peered up through his lashes.
“I didn’t want to show you this. But I had to. If we are going to do this, you have to know everything. Don’t cry for me, Cass. You know what happened exactly a month later? I met my mom and dad. A year later they took me in and loved me. Would have been sooner but I refused to go home with them. Thought there was no way they could be good. But every week they showed up at the home. Every week, my mom baked something for me. Spent the first six months not uttering a goddamn word to them. But still, every week, they showed up. Never gave up. And believe me, I was not a fucking easy kid to love, but they never gave up on me. When other people would have given up, they stayed. Proving their love, showing me I could trust them.”
He took a deep breath. “I keep that book, not for the memories of a shitty childhood, but to remind me. A reminder that someone came along, loved me enough, cared enough.”
She closed the book and stood up slowly. She could feel T’s eyes on her, watching her every move. She rounded the table and put her arms on his shoulders as his came to her waist. She straddled his lap.
“Cassie…” he muttered.
She embraced him in a hug and held him as tight as she could. She needed him to feel it—her love, her trust…her. His arms wrapped around her. They became one being holding on as if their lives depended on it.
“It’s yours…” She whispered through her tears. “All of me, it’s yours,”
Chapter 23
CASSIE lay awake next to T. The sun shined through his dark curtains, only letting in a soft glow. They hadn’t had sex, fucked, or even made love last night but she had never felt closer to him than when she laid in his arms and fell asleep.
The pictures from the album flashed through her mind. All the bruises and scars. All the pain she saw in his eyes. He was just a kid, so small. Parents were supposed to protect their children, not hurt them. Aside from a slap on the butt when she was a toddler, she couldn’t remember a time when her parents hit her out of anger.
“Whatcha got going on in that head, pix?”
“Thinking.”
“About?”
The room stood silent. She didn’t know how or if she should answer. She didn’t want to bring it up. Maybe she needed to let it lie.
“You know why I got all these tattoos?”
“Why?”
“Cover up the scars. Hated seeing my body riddled with that fucker’s mark. The guy who did them was the best around. Scars can be hard to cover, depending on the scar tissue and the depth. Had most of this all done in a matter of four months, except for a few small ones and the wings.”
“Really?”
He nodded, keeping his gaze on her. She let her finger caress the dragon on his arm, along his shoulder down his chest. His chest was a mural of dark colors, mostly grays and blacks. She could see chains linked together across his stomach. Tracing her finger up to the side of his ribs, she peered in closer.
“Dog tags.”
She lifted
her gaze to his, realizing he had been watching her.
“Can I see your back?”
He shifted on the bed, exposing his back to her.
“Got the wings three years ago.”
On his left shoulder blade was a black winged tattoo. It was exquisite, almost delicate. Inscribed in the wings read Mom, Forever Angel with the date of her death. Cassie’s finger drew over the outline of the wings.
He rolled to his back before she could see the rest.
“It’s beautiful. Nothing here though.” Her hand rested over his heart.
“Yeah, except over my heart. I kept that clean.”
“Why?’
“Promised my mother. She was pissed when I had them done. Said I had nothing to be ashamed of from my scars. They were a sign of my survival.” T snorted. “I disagreed but made her a promise not to cover my heart. She said someday, I might want to cover that spot with the person who owns my heart, my missing puzzle piece.”
“Puzzle piece?”
“Yeah.” He huffed. “She believed our lives were a puzzle, all the missing pieces put together gave you your life. That’s the first thing she said to me when we met. She said, ‘T, we finally have the missing puzzle piece to our family.’ She said it was me.”
Cassie hugged him closer, kissing the clean spot over his heart. “I love that story. I’m probably going to make you tell me again tomorrow.” She winked at him and he smiled with a short nod.
“Gimme that mouth,” he growled.
Cassie reached up and gave him her mouth. She’d give him anything he wanted.
* * * *
The heat beat down on T’s back, sweat dripping off his arms. Not the fucking day to power wash the house. They stayed in bed a little longer before Cassie got up to take out Baxter. She was cleaning the house and declared dinner was on her tonight. She quickly clarified her statement. She was making it; they weren’t eating it off her.
Chores around the house led to a job he’d been putting off for months. An hour into it he remembered why he’d put it off. This fucking sucked. He shut off the power washer to refill the machine when he heard a voice call out.
“Hey, T.”
He looked over to see Rona in skimpy shorts and a small tight tank with her tits on display. His temper flared. This bitch was pushing him to be mean. Up until now, he’d tried to remain civil. Any other bitch he would have told to fuck off, but he lived here, and was going to have to see her. She had a big fucking mouth. He didn’t need his neighbors hating on him. They were already wary of him.
He nodded. “Rona.” He continued adding the soap to the washer, hoping she’d get the hint. She didn’t. He stood up and turned around to face her.
She smiled and patted a bandana over her chest pulling her shirt down in the process. “It’s so hot today, isn’t it?’
T rolled his eyes and was about to say bye when he was interrupted.
“You can say that again. Hot as hell out here.”
T turned to the door and his jaw tightened. Cassie stood there in a barely there, lime green, drawstring bikini. The bottom left nothing to the imagination. The patch of material over her pussy just covered it. The top had less. Small triangles covered her tits, which popped out on the sides. Basically, it covered her nipples and not much else.
Her breasts weren’t big but they were perky and firm and proportioned to her sexy body. His eyes scanned down her body. Tight stomach, toned legs. God, his girl was hot!
She smiled over at him. “I was going to catch some sun, baby. You want to rub the lotion on me?” Her coy smile had him taking the stairs two at a time. She looked past him and waved. “Oh hey, Rona.”
T smirked and grabbed her, throwing her over his shoulder as he walked into the house.
“Hope I didn’t interrupt.” She giggled.
He slapped her barely covered ass and she gasped.
He charged up the stairs into his room and tossed her on the bed. She bounced twice, her laugh ringing through his room.
“You come out looking like that, I’m gonna grab you and fuck you every time, Cassie.”
“Really, no matter who’s around?” Her eyebrows quirked up.
He tore off his shirt, soaking wet from sweat, and pulled off his shorts, standing naked in front of her. Her eyes skimmed his hard body and zoned in on his cock. She licked her lips. “I see this is going to be dirty.”
“Might wanna take that off before I rip it off.” T motioned to her bikini.
“Hmmmm…will you rip it off with your teeth?” she teased, pulling on her top strap.
T stalked to the bed and let his body fall over her, his arms taking all the weight not to crush her. His head came down to her and his lips devoured her in a kiss that could only be called desperate. She reached around his shoulders, pulling him to her and kissed him with all the passion and desire she had.
She had been so mad when she peeked out the window and saw Rona, practically naked in her yard, doing everything possible to make him notice her. Tramp! But he didn’t give her the time of day. He had ignored her. At that moment, Cassie decided she was going to thank her man the best way she knew how.
His hands gripped the edge of her top and pulled the small material aside to bare her breasts. His mouth immediately attached to her beaded nipple and she moaned. “T.”
Her hands raked his back, begging for him to get closer, as if that were possible. She felt his body pull away and she shot up to follow. Gripping her waist, he moved her up the bed until his face was level with her bikini bottoms.
Her eyes followed his mouth as he descended downward and in one quick swoop, he ripped them off and whipped them across the bed. She shivered at the sight and panted when he dropped down and slid his tongue over her.
“Ahh…” Her head dug deep into the pillow and her legs instinctively closed. Calloused hands gripped her knees and spread her open, assaulting her to the point of extreme pleasure. Cassie threw her hands over her head and grasped the bedframe. He was unrelenting and she squirmed to get closer to him. The vibration from his groan had her breathless.
Pulling up from her, he crawled over her body, eyes dark and heated. “Sweetest taste my mouth ever fucking tasted.” He leaned in kissing her hard. She tasted herself on his lips before he pulled back and got to his knees.
Cassie rose up to him but he spun her around. “Gonna give you want you want,” he whispered in her ear. “What ya been begging for, baby.”
She planted herself on her stomach and rose up to her knees, ass in in the air, waiting. She had been begging all week. Somehow, the fear had gone, and now she just wanted him. Everywhere.
His hands ran over her back up to her shoulders, pulling her back. She turned her head to meet his lips. Her tongue glided across his thick bottom lip and entered his warm mouth. His chest covered her back and she felt herself dripping from her core. She wanted this, with him, forever.
His mouth traced down her cheek up to her ear. “Gonna go slow, real gentle with you, Cass.” He licked the outer shell of her ear. “Until you beg me to make you scream.” His last words came out gravelly, like he was trying to hold back. No doubt she’d be screaming, for him, for more.
Her body felt bare when he got up and leaned over to his nightstand. Following his move, she watched him open the drawer and pull out a bottle of lube before crawling back behind her.
Her heart raced at the anticipation. While she knew he’d go slowly, her fear of the unknown crept up and had her second-guessing what they were about to do.
She turned her head as cold liquid shocked her crease; she sucked in a tight breath. His chest came down to her back and she closed her eyes. “Gonna feel so good, Cass.”
She felt his finger slowly glide along the crease of her ass. “I’m gonna own every part of you, baby.” His mouth grazed her neck, sending chills throughout her body. His finger penetrated her from behind and she gasped at the sensation.
“
Slow, Cass, real slow…” he whispered.
Her breathing got heavier with every move he made. Her body trembled. She felt his cock at her pussy and panted as he entered her slowly. Her mind was lost with all the feeling she had going on. His hips rocked back and forth sliding deeper inside her. She felt him pull out from her and enter her again with more pressure, two fingers.
“Yes…” She panted.
He slid his cock in and out, gaining speed as she rocked her hips back to meet his strokes. She had never felt so on edge. She could feel him everywhere.
He pulled out from both ends and she felt the cool liquid drip down her crease before feeling the crown of him at her back entrance. His arm came down to the bed, muscles straining as he held himself up and slowly entered her. She felt a slight pressure and a bite of pain as he breached her.
Cassie gasped a harsh breath and stilled.
“Breathe, baby, now push out, and I’m gonna slide right in, slow and easy.”
She steadied her breathing as best she could and did what he said. She could feel every inch of him stretching her out as he glided into her. He stopped and groaned. “Your ass is gripping me so fuckin’ tight, I’m going to explode.” His voice was almost pained as he glided further inside her slowly.
“Oh, baby, slow…go slow.”
She felt a sharp bite of pain before he was fully seated inside her, his lips skimming her neck, her feeling only him inside her.
“Gotta move, pix.”
He pulled out slightly before slowly pushing back into her; the sensation had her gripping her sheets. It was a feeling of pressure, erotic pain, and pure ecstasy as he drove deeper inside her. His hand came around her hip and zoned in on her clit. Her breathing intensified, as did the sensation. He dipped his finger into her pussy before dragging the moisture over her nub.
“Oh, God…”
His body moved over her in a pace that quickened and his finger pinched her clit lightly before dipping between her folds again.
She buried her head into the pillow, muffling her screams as T fucked her from behind. This wasn’t making love, this was pure, unadulterated fucking, and she loved it.