“They put me into witness protection to protect me from the powerful parents who put their kids there and didn’t want the world to know what happened. See most of them were brainwashed, but some of them, like me, made it out with something left.”
“Your brother was different when he came back. But we all thought it was rehab.” He’s breathing heavy, his nostrils are flaring. “He kept saying you were happy and to leave you be. I wouldn’t leave him alone. And then he got sent down anyway.”
My brother’s actions that night with Poppy and Bradley cost him his entire future. Bradley’s more so than my brother’s. Bradley got an infection in his shattered femur and ended up losing half his leg. They threw the book at my brother who with his new morale self, pleaded guilty and apologized.
“I know. I found out after I was in my right mind. Marshall checked in on him. He’s not brainwashed anymore, but he is high again apparently.”
“Still in prison?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I don’t know. I don’t care.”
“Understandable.”
“He left me there. He knew what was happening and he agreed with it. He left me there.”
Kane starts pacing. “Are you sure he was the only one who knew?”
“Matthew?”
“No, the fucker who got what he deserved. What he earned. Are you sure he was the only one who knew about our kid’s whereabouts?”
“Webber looked into it for me and I haven’t stopped. He was the agent who saved me from myself. He paid a private detective too with his own dime. The trail was deader than the fucker I severed.”
Kane scratches the stubble of his jaw. “Fuck. I don’t know what to do with this. Any of this.”
“I told you that you didn’t want to know.”
He doesn’t agree, instead he asks, “That why you stayed away?”
I lift a shoulder. “That and because you became the catalyst for all of my fucking problems. You’re in every bad memory I have Kane.”
He rears back like I’ve slapped him and silence falls over us both. We stare at each other, his vibrant and alive eyes holding the dead in mine. “Fuck you, Immy. That was uncalled for.”
“Yeah well, I’m vicious now Kane, just like you were once upon a time.”
“I’m seein it, don’t fuckin’ like it. Don’t know what to say to make this hurt less.”
“For who, you or me? Because trust me, I don’t feel a thing.”
He blows a breath out of his nose. “About me? Or about all of this?”
“About everything.”
“You must feel somethin’, you’re still chasing after our kid.”
“I just need to see her. I just need to know she’s safe and loved.” It’s become an obsession. I’m almost scared of what will happen when I do find her. I put out a kidnapped child report, but without a photo to go on or even a date, finding her will be impossible. All of the records were destroyed in that fire we stupidly set but he didn’t keep adoption files there anyway. I know because I looked.
“So you’ve said.” His eyes are set with determination. “I’ll find her Immy.”
“You didn’t fucking find me.”
He throws his cup against the wall, it shatters and I don’t even flinch.
“This is a rental,” I say flatly and I know I’m being cruel but it’s all I know how to be anymore.
“I need a breather.” Walking away, he slams the door behind him and I listen to his heavy booted feet get more and more distant.
I don’t know if he’ll come back. I’m almost hoping he won’t. But then seeing him is sparking just a little piece of the old me that I once knew. The old me that he helped me create.
I clean the mess he made, carefully wiping away coffee and scraping up fragments. It’s therapeutic and helps me gather my thoughts. Cleaning isn’t my most favorite thing to do but thankfully I don’t despise it.
My phone vibrates, it’s Marshall. Why am I not surprised?
Marshall: How is it going?
Immy: You’re asking me how your betrayal is going?
Marshall: Yes. Exactly.
Immy: I hate you.
Marshall: We’ve been through too much together; you could never hate me.
Immy: Shut up.
Marshall: So it’s going well then?
Immy: Kane needed a breather.
Marshall: I bet. Were you nice to him?
Immy: No.
Marshall: Can you try and be nice to him?
Immy: I just talked about it. You know how I get when I talk about it. Or when you try and talk about it.
Marshall: Poor Kane.
Marshall: But seriously, Immy. He’s in this now too. Cut him some slack.
Immy: You do realize that you have just selfishly burdened him with years of maddening pain and unanswered questions?
Marshall: He deserved to know.
Immy: Deserved to know what? A kid he’s never going to meet?
Marshall doesn’t reply and I stuff my phone into my pocket. Then I check the time and pull out my laptop.
Like I do every day, I send an email to Webber and ask him for updates. My daughter is now considered to be a cold case. A cold case. She could be dead for all I know. And that’s the worst part. Not knowing.
The door swings open around half an hour later and Kane strolls in like he owns the place. He starts looking around like he has a right but for the most part he completely ignores me.
I watch as he goes into my room and listen to him yank open my drawers. I don’t ask, I just give him his breather. He’s figuring something out and I’m not about to interfere with that.
When the final drawer slams shut he returns and yanks open the cupboards beneath my flatscreen.
“You’ve got nothin’,” he snarls like that’s supposed to mean something to me.
I give him an incredulous look. “Huh?”
“Nothin’,” he repeats, raising his hands. “You have got nothin’.”
“Still not following.”
“No pictures.”
“Nothin worth photographing.”
“No trinkets and Immy you used to fucking love trinkets. Had to drag you out of every shop we ever went by to stop you from buying a stupid fridge magnet or a postcard. Or those stupid fucking bean bag baby stuffed animals.”
I feel my jaw tick but I keep silent. He’s right but it’s not a memory I want to cherish.
“You fuckin’ said I was in every bad memory.”
“I said that,” I confirm, turning in my seat and pulling my knees up to my chest. My ankles cross as I hug my legs and watch him move around my space.
“But I bet your fuckin’ ass I was in every good one.”
He’s got me there. I look away, I don’t need to feed his ego by admitting that.
“I’m not to blame for what happened to you. I looked, Immy.”
“I know.”
“NO YOU FUCKIN’ DON’T!” he booms, grabbing my arms and dragging me to my feet. “I stopped going to school. I put up fliers. I called radio stations and put in reports. I used to make my daddy’s Renegade’s fuckin’ take fliers with them. There were fliers beggin’ for you to call me all across the state. Not one call. I knew somethin’ wasn’t right so I didn’t stop looking for you.”
“You want me to thank you?”
“I want you to know that you didn’t save me from pain and questions. My life has been nothing but pain and questions because of you…”
I blanche. “Is Marshall feeding you my texts through a fucking wire?”
“Naw, to my fucking phone.” He tosses said phone on the couch. “Don’t know why I ever loved you Imogen Hardy. Still don’t know why I ever loved you. But I did. You didn’t deserve it. You don’t deserve it. I didn’t deserve you. We were two fucked up kids that never should have been anythin’ to each other.”
“So why are you doing this to us both? I gave you an out. I gave you a reason.” I’m so eternally confused. �
�If you don’t know why you loved me then why the fuck are you here?”
“Because I needed answers and now I got my answers I’ve gotta deal. Somewhere out there we got a kid. I’ve got a kid.” His face gets in mine, his eyes are wild and angry. “AND YOU FUCKING KEPT HER FROM ME!”
“Are you insane?” I shout and shove him back. “I didn’t fucking keep her from you!”
“You should have come back the minute you were free.”
“I was fucked up. I wasn’t sane.”
“Free of your brain then! I don’t know but you should have reached out when you were well.”
“I’M STILL NOT FUCKING WELL, KANE!” I shove him again. It’s all too familiar. “I’ll never be well. I’m damaged. I’m poisonous. I’m unlovable. I’m vicious.”
“Yeah, well so am I and you still loved me anyway.”
“I killed a man in cold blood and I don’t regret it.”
“So did I,” he whispers.
“That’s not the same.”
“Isn’t it? Let you steal his money. Left him there. Didn’t call for help. Didn’t even fuckin’ care. You still sat on my dick years later and I never wanted to change a thing about that moment.”
I bite my lip. “I don’t know what the point in any of this is.”
“The point is, whether we wanted it or not we were in this life together. You left me, not on purpose at first but then on purpose and fuck you for that. Got a kid out there I could have helped you find.”
“She’s in the wind. There’s no possible way.”
“So you say but you didn’t give me the option to find that out for myself.”
“You want me to say I’m sorry?”
“Yeah,” he responds and for a moment I see how haunted his eyes are. He’s not doing a good job of hiding it. “I do. I want you to say it, I want you to feel it and I want to fucking see it.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the baby that was stolen from me.”
“From us,” he corrects. “Unless it’s not mine.”
I almost laugh at that weak attempt to goad me. He doesn’t stop me as I sit back on the couch. “When are you leavin’, Kane?”
“Right now, just came back to say goodbye and wish you luck in getting your shit together.” He tugs on the lapel of his leather jacket and digs into his pocket for a mint. “You’re an incredible tattoo artist, Immy. You’re a shit fuckin’ person.”
“Ouch,” I respond, my tone deadpan. “Thanks for the burn. Let me rub myself down with some aloe.”
Angry, he shoves me backwards onto the couch, forcing me to uncurl, and grips my face, forcing me to look at him.
“You said you hated me.” He squeezes harder. It doesn’t hurt but it isn’t pleasant. “You ain’t got nothin’ to hate me for.”
“Cept maybe your shit grammar.”
His eyes narrow. “Table’s are turning Imogen Hardy. Because now for the first time since we met. I hate you. For real. I fucking hate you. Wish I’d never met you. Because you’re in all my bad memories too. Now you’re in the worst.” He bites on my lower lip, like he wants to make me bleed but can’t quite bring himself to do it. I hold his fiery gaze but don’t flinch, despite the pain, and after a moment my lip pings free and he stands and rights himself. “Unless you find my kid, don’t contact me. We’re back to how we were before we ever fucked except this time I mean it and this time I don’t want to stick my dick in you.”
“You’re a liar and a shit one. You’re a worse liar than me.” I follow him, round him, and press my hand hard against his chest.
“Move out of my way.”
“You don’t hate me. You wish you did. That look in your eyes isn’t hate, it’s pity. You hate that you pity me. I get it. I’ve got nothin’. I’m nothing like the girl I used to be. The girl you loved. The girl you thought you’d find here today.” I press even harder and focus on the feel of his heart beneath my palm, it makes me think of the time I held his heart in my hand when the world was an easier place. Even though the world was a hard place, it was still so much easier than this. “So no, you don’t hate me. You’re running because you know I’m not gonna make it through this and it fucking hurt you too much the first time.” I grab his dick through his jeans and his nostrils flare. “And don’t lie and say you don’t want to stick your dick in me. You’ve been hard since I walked into that fucking church back in Faceless. It’s why you got here so fast after Marshall said I’m still pining after you.” My fingers wrap around his girth, he’s even bigger than before. Evidence that a man’s dick doesn’t stop growing at seventeen. “There isn’t anything left for you here but this. You want who I was, you ain’t getting her. She doesn’t exist. But you want a taste? I fuck harder now than I ever did back then. All you’ve gotta do is ask.”
He gets closer, so close his breath on my lips makes my mouth water. He smells of mint and cigars. “Funnily enough, after all you’ve told me. I’m not in the mood.”
“Funnily enough,” I whisper, reaching up on my tiptoes. “After all I’ve told you, it’s the only thing that’ll get that shit out of my mind.” I lick his lower lip, the tip of my tongue against the satin feel. “Don’t let me down here, Kane. Fuck me like you want to hurt me.”
“I do wanna hurt you,” he hisses, tangling his hand in my hair and doing just that.
“I know. Do it.”
I beg him with my eyes, knowing if I’m ever going to feel anything again it’ll be with him. I watch as his determination cracks and morphs into something new, right before our lips meet and this time both of us are willing.
His kiss is painful but it’s refreshing and it’s everything I’ve always wanted. My memories of our past light up in my head as his flavors explode my senses.
I hum, gripping his neck as he turns us by my hips and slams me so hard against the wall I feel it crack. It knocks the wind right out of me and straight into him but he doesn’t let up. He grabs my breast so hard I flinch but then he lets up and rolls it gently under his firm grasp. His other hand yanks up my gown and pulls on my thong, snapping it on one side so it slides down my leg.
With a tug my head comes back and my lips part as he bites and tastes me neck. His every move is strong and unrestrained. He’s angry, so fucking angry and he’s taking it all out on me.
Spiraling tingles of pleasure curl down my throat from every space he sucks and bites. I whimper, desperate and needy sounding sobs of absolute divinity.
He bends low for a split second, lifts me higher, keeping me pinned against the wall and I don’t even get time to register the feel of his cock against me before he has impaled me on it.
I cry out, a growling gasp that I can’t control. His cock, so big and thick and hot stretches me to my limits. It burns despite how wet I am.
With a moan of his own his body traps mine against the wall before he begins, giving me only half a second to get used to him before he savagely thrusts in and out, getting deeper and deeper with each stroke. It hurts just like he promised, and it feels so good all at the same time. I moan, it’s loud, I can’t control it. This raging inferno that has claimed us both is fueled by the gasoline of our hate and love. Both emotions exist in us somewhere and combined they create something so beautiful and vicious.
“Your pussy is even better than I remembered,” he hisses in my ear, gritting his teeth with each jarring thrust. “I fucking hate you for that.”
“Can hardly feel your cock,” I lie, panting as sweat beads on my neck.
I shriek when he drops me and forces me onto the floor. My back hits the carpet and I wonder if a bruise will form along my shoulders.
Kane Jessop isn’t being nice to my body right now and yet I’ve never loved sex more than I do in this moment.
He pins my wrists with a large hand as his body slides between my thighs and his cock takes its rightful place seated in my pussy like king of the fucking dicks. Never had a better one than this. Never has it felt better than this.
I’m los
ing my mind, I can’t breathe, I can’t think, I can’t see.
“You’re a fucking bitch, Immy,” he whispers right as I’m about to come. “Never should have saved you that night.”
“Probably,” I reply, taking everything he’s giving me.
“Shoulda’ let you die.”
“Wish you had.”
He goes harder, grinding against my swollen clit and I feel it building, an orgasm so powerful I might lose every hair on my body. It’ll be the first orgasm I’ve had since before this all happened. Not for lack of trying.
His groans get louder and more frequent and his hips jerk erratically. I know he’s coming; I can feel him throbbing. It feels incredible. I missed this. I missed his noises and his movements.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “Not yet, not yet. Fucking. FUCK!”
His hips piston wildly, pushing me along the carpet, making the skin above my ass burn. Then he drops, effectively collapsing on top of me as my orgasm ebbs away and my tingling body returns to normal. Well shit. That’s disappointing.
“Just give me a sec to catch my breath.” His heaving chest against mine makes it hard for me to breathe. When he starts to rock again, still hard, I shove his shoulder.
“Get off me.”
He immediately stops and rests on his arm so he can look down at me, bewildered. “The fuck?”
“Get off.”
He complies, pulling out and leaning back onto his knees. I scramble to pull my gown down. “You didn’t come.”
“Lost it.”
“Then give me chance to build it up again. You know I always do.”
“I’m not in the mood,” I admit, hugging myself as I move to the bedroom.
He laughs coldly. “This because of what I said? You lose it because of that?”
I roll my eyes, hiding not only my hurt but everything else. “Nope.”
“You know I didn’t mean it. You just piss me off is all.”
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