by Jessie Evans
“I contacted my old fence in Charleston,” Gabe says. “He knows a guy who is going to set us up with passports and birth certificates under different names. I’ve already taken pictures of the kids and sent them over. I told him I’d get our pictures to him this afternoon.”
I shake my head hard enough to send my hair flying around my face. “No, Gabe. I can’t do that to them. A life spent running isn’t any better than if they ended up in the system. I can’t—”
“It will be a hell of a lot better than if they ended up in the system.” Gabe stands, lifting me in his arms, carrying me across the room. “I’ve already booked a cottage on the coast of Croatia, a lovely country with a stable government, an excellent exchange rate, and no extradition policy for people accused of crimes on U.S. soil.”
“What?” I let out a soft oof of surprise as he lays me on the bed.
He smiles. “We’ll be staying in a beach town by the Adriatic Sea. It will be just like the Italian Riviera, only cheaper.”
“Cheaper,” I echo, mesmerized as he reaches for the bottom of his tee shirt and pulls it over his head. Even at a moment like this, the sight of his bare chest is enough to make my fingers itch with the need to touch him
“We check in on Wednesday.” Gabe lies down beside me, his hand coming to rest at my waist, making my skin tingle beneath the scratchy fabric of my dress. “We’ll have the cottage for the rest of the summer, long enough to decide whether we want to stay where we are and homeschool the boys, or move to the city, where they have an English-speaking school.”
“You can’t be for real.” I stare deep into his eyes, seeing nothing but determination.
“Do I look like I’m not for real?” He lifts one brow as his fingers bunch the fabric of my dress, pulling my skirt higher on my thighs. “I have enough money to cover our expenses for years if we’re relatively frugal. I’ve already transferred a sizeable amount into a Swiss bank account. We’ll have access to the funds as soon as we land.”
“But what about when the kids get older?” I ask, covering his hands with my own, the enormity of this conversation enough to make my head spin without Gabe undressing me at the same time. “We can’t run away to a foreign country forever. What if the kids want to go to college in the states, or—”
“Then they go to college in the states.” He brushes my hands away and finishes bunching my dress around my waist. “And they can come visit us on their breaks. We can run away forever, Caitlin. You and me.” He leans in, kissing me with a tenderness that is every bit as arousing as the way he fists his hand in the top of my pantyhose. “We can go somewhere no one knows our names, and be a family.”
My breath rushes out over his lips. “Gabe, I—”
“I’ve already got our story figured out,” he interrupts, sitting up long enough to strip my pantyhose down my thighs and toss them to the floor before lying back down beside me. “We’ll tell people that you were given custody of your brothers after your parents passed away, and that you and I are married, and Emmie is our daughter.”
Tears spring to my eyes and my throat feels like it’s about to close up, but I don’t know if it’s from gratitude or fear. I reach for Gabe, wrapping my arms around his neck and drawing him closer.
“Are you sure you want this?” I ask as he presses kisses to my throat and my pulse speeds faster. “Your parents don’t want to ruin your life; they just want me to go away. Maybe, if I do, things can go back to the way they were. You can go back to school and have the life you wanted, and—”
“All I want is you.” He pulls back to look me in the eyes, an intensity in his gaze that steals the rest of my words away. “You are the only thing I want, the only thing that makes my life worth living. You are everything to me.”
I blink, sending tears streaming down my cheeks. “You, too. To me.”
Relief flickers in his eyes. “And that’s all we need.”
“But what about jobs?” I ask, still having a hard time wrapping my head around all this. “We’ll eventually need jobs, and I don’t even know what language they speak in Croatia.”
“Croatian,” he says, rubbing my tears into my skin with the pad of this thumb. “And I told you, I have enough money to hold us over for years. That’s more than enough time to learn a new language.”
“But what about visas and friends for the kids and—”
“We’ll figure it all out,” he says, bringing a finger to my lips. “I don’t care what kind of work I do, or what language I speak. As long as we belong to each other, and I get to tell you I love you every day, I will be the happiest man in the world. You’re my home, Caitlin, and I—”
I silence him with a kiss, too overcome to tell him how much everything he’s said means to me. I have to show him. I have to show him with my body and soul that he is my home, too. He is my friend, my lover, and my saving grace. He is my partner, my other half, and one of the few people in the world I would fight to the death to protect.
He is the dream I didn’t know I was wishing for until it came true, and one lifetime will never be enough to show him how lucky I feel to have been entrusted with his heart.
“I love you so much,” I say between kisses, breath coming faster.
“Nothing can scare me, except thinking of another day without you in it.”
I sigh into him and he inhales, breathing my breath. “You’re pretty romantic, you know that?”
“I’ll show you romantic.” He kisses me hard enough to make my lips feel bruised, before he whispers, “Roll over onto your belly. I want to fuck you from behind.”
I obey without a second of hesitation, rolling over and sweeping my hair to one side, shivering as Gabe draws my zipper down, curls his fingers into the front of my collar, and strips my dress from my body with one smooth movement, leaving me in nothing but my bra and panties. I reach back, intending to unhook my bra, needing to eliminate the barriers to being naked with the man I love, but Gabe brushes my hands away.
“No. This is my job,” he says, kissing his way down my neck as he makes quick work of my bra and underwear.
A moment later he is on top of me, blanketing me with his body, surrounding me so completely there is nothing but him—his smell, his taste, the feel of his strong arms sliding beneath me to cup my breasts, his erection nestled between the cheeks of my ass. I moan, arching back into the burning length of him, amazed that he can feel so hard and so soft at the same time. His need is rock solid as it presses against my tailbone, but his skin is petal soft, fever hot. The feel of that pulsing flesh so close to where I ache for him is enough to send a rush of liquid heat from my body.
“I love your cock,” I whisper, moaning as he rocks forward, grinding against me, intensifying the throbbing between my legs. “I can’t wait to get my tongue on you again. I want to taste every inch of you.”
“Not today,” he says, kissing his way across my shoulder as his fingers tease my nipples, making me cry out from the combined erotic friction of his touch, and my sensitive skin rubbing against the sheets. “Today, I’m going to pin you to this bed and fuck you until you know that you are mine, and I am yours, and nothing will ever come between us again.”
“Yes.” I reach back, digging my fingernails into the thick muscles of his ass, pulling him closer.
“God, Caitlin.” He groans as I arch my back even farther, in what I hope is a clear invitation. “You drive me crazy.” His teeth nip into my shoulder while one of his hands slides down to tease my clit in gentle circles.
My blood pressure spikes so fast my head spins. “Fuck me, Gabe,” I beg as I wiggle my hips against him. “Don’t make me wait. I need you.”
“I need you, too,” he says, fingers moving in firmer circles against my swollen nub, bringing me within seconds of tumbling over. “Let me get a condom.”
“I’m on the pill,” I say, hooking my feet around his ankles and holding him captive, certain I’ll die if I’m deprived of the feel of his body for even a second. “
I’m on the pill, it’s okay. I want to feel your bare—”
My words end in a cry of satisfaction as he shifts his hips, finding my slick center with the blunt head of his cock and driving inside. With my legs together, it’s a tighter fit than usual. Gabe has to force his way through the resistance, and for a moment it hurts, but then he is buried in my body, his hard length encased inside my heat, and it is pure bliss.
Bliss made all the sweeter because of that moment of pain.
It’s like me and Gabe, I realize as he pulls back and drives home again, making my entire body sing. The pain of losing him has made this second chance even more precious and beautiful. What we have is sacred, a bond forged by pain and pleasure, suffering and passion, and Gabe is right—nothing will tear us apart again. This is forever, for keeps, for the rest of our lives, no matter what the future holds.
“You’re mine,” I breathe, shoving back against him, wanting more of him, all of him.
“And you are mine,” Gabe growls against my neck as he rides me harder, deeper, until every cell in my body is electrified with pleasure, and I’m squirming beneath him, so close my blood rockets through my veins.
His fingers are still busy between my legs and at my left breast, sending shockwaves of pleasure zipping from my head to my toes and back again, threatening to short-circuit my nerve endings. I’m not sure my body can handle the orgasm building to a fierce crescendo inside of me, but then Gabe shoves home one last time—coming so hard his cock jerks inside my channel—and my own release hits with enough force to take my breath away.
I explode like a firework painting the sky, like a bomb filled with flower petals showering the world with color, happiness, and hope. I come laughing and crying, clinging to Gabe’s arm, and biting down on my bottom lip so hard it hurts, which for some reason makes me start laughing all over again.
“You okay?” Gabe kisses my cheek, his tongue slipping out to lap away one of my tears.
“Happy tears,” I say, my voice trembling in the aftermath of one of the most intense orgasms of my life.
“Tasted like a happy tear.” He bands his arms around my chest, hugging me tight. “I love the tattoo, by the way. It’s stunning.”
I smile. “We were going to get matching tattoos, remember?”
“I remember. Dandelion flowers, with the seeds blowing away, off in different directions, but from the same source.” He kisses the place where my flower bends across my shoulder. “But I think I’ll get something different once we’re settled.”
“Dandelions not good enough for you?” I turn my head and he shifts to rest his face on the pillow beside mine, though his body stays buried inside me, exactly where I want him to be.
“I was thinking about Shakespeare’s ‘Sonnet 116,’ ” he says, his eyelids droopy with pleasure. “ ‘Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love, which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. O no; it is an ever-fixed mark, that looks on tempests, and is never shaken.’ ” He brushes his knuckles gently across my cheek. “It reminds me of you.”
I sigh as I bring my finger to trace the outline of his lips. “If I tell you you’re romantic again, will you have to fuck me from behind to show how tough you are?”
He grins a wicked grin. “Maybe.”
I see his wicked grin, and raise him a wink. “You are the most romantic man, and I love that you can quote poetry, and want it tattooed on your body.”
“Now you’ve done it,” he says in mock anger, making me giggle. “I’m going to show you what poetry-quoting men are made of.”
“Sunshine and rose petals?”
“Piss and vinegar,” he corrects. “And blood and sweat and pain…” He pauses, reaching out to twine my hair around his finger. “And locks of hair, from the only girl they ever loved.”
My smile softens, and suddenly, my decision is made. “Let’s do it. Let’s leave tonight.”
Gabe kisses the tip of my nose. “I’ll book the flights as soon as I have the names on our new passports. But first, you and I need to do a photo shoot.”
We get up and get dressed. Gabe takes my picture against the cream wall in the bathroom, before I take my turn, standing on top of an overturned trashcan so that I’ll be tall enough to get a shot of him straight on. He sends the images to his contact, and gets an email back within a few minutes, saying that the documents will be ready later this afternoon. Gabe arranges to meet the man at Harry’s diner at five o’clock with the money and gets the new names and birthdays for the plane tickets.
I sit on his lap as we book an eleven o’clock flight out of Charleston to Frankfurt, and then on to Pula, Croatia, where we’ll rent a car to drive to the beach town of Porec. The flights are over a thousand dollars each, and when Gabe hits purchase, my stomach lurches.
“You just dropped eight thousand dollars on plane tickets” I say, still feeling queasy.
“It’s only money,” he says. “Speaking of, I need to get going. Kimmy has a friend who wants to buy the Beamer for ten grand. She’s going to pick me up a few streets over in about ten minutes.”
I frown. “Isn’t that a lot less than it’s worth?”
“It is.” He shrugs. “But it’s cash and it will be good to have some on hand while we’re getting settled. And it’s not like I can take the car with me.” He stands, setting me on my feet. “Get the kids packed. I’ll be back before dinner.”
“Be careful, okay?” I hug him tight.
“You too,” he says, kissing my forehead. “Try to lay low, but call me if there are any developments. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
With one last squeeze, I reluctantly set him free. “I don’t like the idea of being apart, even for a few hours.”
“It’s going to be okay,” he says, backing toward the door. “We’re almost home free, beautiful. Just hang on a little longer.”
I smile as I watch him go, but when the door closes behind him, I can’t help feeling like I’m never going to see him again. I stay busy for the next few hours—showering and changing into soft gray running shorts, and a black tee shirt, packing up the kids’ backpacks, talking the boys through the plan, and arguing with Danny, who doesn’t want to move to another country without at least getting to say goodbye to Sam in person—but I can’t shake the sense of impending doom. When five-thirty comes and goes without a word from Gabe, I finally get so worried I pick up the phone.
My call is sent immediately to voicemail, but I try not to freak out. Gabe’s contact might have been late to meet him at the diner; they might still be in the middle of their exchange. There is probably some reasonable explanation for the delay.
I believe that, until the digital clock above the stove flicks to six, and three more calls go straight to voicemail. I’m about to tell Sherry that I’m going looking for Gabe, when my cell rings. I snatch it up from the counter where the kids are eating a subdued spaghetti dinner, my pulse racing with relief, only for my hopes to plummet when I see an unfamiliar number on the display.
It’s not Gabe, but it’s a local number, so I step into the bedroom and answer the call with a soft, “This is Caitlin.”
“Hi, Caitlin,” a familiar voice says. “This is Kimmy.”
“Oh, hi Kimmy,” I say, surprised. “What’s up?”
“Listen, I know we’re not friends or anything, but I didn’t know who else to call, and Gabe left your number the other day with the keys, just in case there was an emergency with the car, and—”
“What’s wrong?” I ask, the anxiety in Kimmy’s voice making me impatient. “Is Gabe okay? Did something go wrong while you were selling the car?”
“No, that went fine,” Kimmy says. “We got everything taken care of, he got the money, and he went across the street to Harry’s to meet a friend. I didn’t expect to see him again, but then I realized he’d left his house key in the bowl by the door. I ran down to catch him before he left and I saw him leaving the diner with this super
big guy. They were walking really close together and it just looked…weird, you know? And when I called Gabe’s name, he didn’t stop or turn around, and I know he had to have heard me. I was practically shouting.”
“What did the guy look like?” I chew my thumbnail as I pace the carpet, fear that Gabe’s father has intercepted him and forced him back to Darby Hill making my heart feel like it’s punching my ribs. “Was he Gabe’s height? An older man, with—”
“No, he was young,” Kimmy says. “And taller and heavier than Gabe, with wider shoulders. I remember that, because you don’t see many men bigger than Gabe.”
Young, broad shoulders, bigger than Gabe….
A horrible suspicion sweeps through me, but I don’t want to believe it’s true. Still, I ask, “Did the man have light brown hair, a little curly at the bottom?”
“Yes,” Kimmy says, sounding relieved, though she has absolutely no reason to be. “Do you know him? Are he and Gabe friends?”
“What time did this happen?” I ignore her questions, knowing I don’t have time to explain. There’s a chance another massive guy with hair like Isaac’s decided to take a close walk with Gabe out of the diner, but my gut says that’s pretty unlikely.
“About an hour ago? Maybe a little less?”
“And you’re just calling me now?” I ask, anger tightening my voice.
“It took me a while to get worried,” Kimmy says, defensively. “And then I had to get up the guts to call you. It wasn’t easy, okay. You are the woman he dumped me for.”
I take a deep breath and rein in my temper. It’s not Kimmy’s fault something’s happened to Gabe, and without her I might not have any clue where he is. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried. Can you tell me anything else? What direction they went? If they got into a car?”
Kimmy sighs. “They were walking down the street toward The Neptune and turned left on Mark Street, headed away from downtown. That’s all I know.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I’ll see if I can track him down.”