Vote Then Read: Volume II

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Vote Then Read: Volume II Page 89

by Lauren Blakely


  Still, she welcomes me with every kiss of her lips and nibble of her teeth as she mutters, “I will protect you.”

  Her words disturb the internal balance in me as tears rush to my eyes, and I’m left utterly speechless. She's like good Tennessee whiskey, perfect for savoring and enjoying the journey. I delight in all things Jaid from her accent to her ass. But in my drunken state off Jaid, I'm frozen by questions floating through my mind.

  Why would a guy like me need protecting?

  How can she possibly know how bad this is going to hurt?

  What is she forecasting?

  “I’m gonna come…” I grumble, pounding into Kaci with all that I have. My hips flex back and arch, trying to hold onto the inevitable eruption, but she feels too good on my dick. Kaci is my home, my shelter, and the one I know. I understand her makeup, her terrain, and her attitude. I comprehend her actions with a mere reflection because she built me. She made this man I have become. I’m not ready to let go. I’m not ready to come. I’m not ready to learn a new language, and my frustration with my mechanics blusters out a hazy, “Fuck.”

  Kaci’s hands drop to my ass, encouraging me to let go. “Do it, Sir.” She rarely says it, but the deferment hits like a catastrophic bomb in my soul. But she isn't done as she whispers, “Take me, Master. Take it. And I will surrender.”

  That does it.

  Jaid impacts into my world with the force of a determined vixen set on one thing—annihilating the pain of my loss.

  Crazy bitch is gonna get cut.

  Stay back, stay away.

  I’m a fucking madman.

  She doesn’t know. She doesn’t understand. But her kiss declares otherwise as I come with a thundering spew, but amidst the chaos of my declaration, I feel Kaci’s body quenching by my deluge. The worst part is I feel terrible about Jaid. She missed out, and the guilt I carry from her sacrifice is real.

  Her blue eyes glaze over as she breathes against my lip. “I’m going to go eat your come now.”

  My eyes shutter closed.

  This girl. This fucking girl. My God, where did she come from?

  She scampers across the sheets when I lift my hand and grab her bicep as we are shoulder to shoulder. “You got me, Jaid?”

  “Always, Salvatore. Always.”

  The three of us spent the rest of the day together. We took showers and got dressed. We went to Idamae’s for lunch, and Kaci asked to go by the cemetery. She wanted to visit Bertie. Despite how much I didn’t want to go, I agreed.

  It was a beautiful day, and we took the top off of the Scout. Kaci wanted to ride in the back, which left Jaid up front with me. I was pretty tickled that she let me drive because it kept my mind off the inevitable. Going to the cemetery was never easy, but knowing your wife would be there soon, damn near brought me to my knees.

  We stopped and bought flowers before heading out to the White Rose Cemetery. Kaci would be buried next to our friend, Bertie. Her death still stings and probably will until I figure out who killed her. The speculation over her death has spanned the gamut—a mob hit, an inside job at Sibyl, or maybe even a drug deal gone wrong. Her murder was brutal as she was stabbed over twenty times in a restored mission known as La Chiesa, or The Church.

  La Chiesa just happened to belong to the girl singing out of tune in the back seat. Her paternal grandfather, Earl, and his partner, Ply, brought the old relic of a church back to life. Ply died about ten years ago, and now Earl was in bad shape at a nursing home. I wonder how many years I’ll have to suffer without Kaci.

  Earl is still suffering.

  Because ultimately, love is love. And we want to think we can control and steer it like a vehicle, but the truth is love has a mind of its own. Sometimes though, people like to play matchmaker, which is precisely what Kaci did with Bertie and me. It was before our marriage, and my becoming an agent when things got so complicated.

  Kaci has always known she was dying. The crab was first diagnosed when she was in her early teens, but she fought and thrived through remission. Several months before we met, she had been feeling tired and went to see her doctors in Houston. A battery of tests later revealed the horrific diagnosis—her cancer had returned in full force. She did meds. She did chemo. She did everything they hoped would change the outcome, but nothing was working.

  With diligence, I managed to push our relationship along despite her initial reluctance. She didn’t want to get my heart tied up with her strings because she knew I would be hurt, irreparably. I kept on, but she countered my move with one of her own by attempting to fix me up with Bertrand “Bertie” Miles Jameson.

  Kaci wanted me with Bertie for two reasons. For one, Kaci understood my type better than anyone. Bertie was right up my alley. With long, dark curls, pretty blue eyes, and an embodiment of old-school pin-up girl, Bertie seemed to have the whole package. The second reason for Kaci’s matchmaking was so I would keep the transitioning – from male-to-female – Bertie safe. Kaci predicted we could live happily ever after, and honestly, we probably would have had it not been for her murder.

  Bertie was bubbly, bright, and exuberant. She had a high-energy to match my own, and I did what Kaci wished – I fell in love with Bertie—hard. Despite my initial hiccups, I came to understand Bertie was just like any other girl.

  Unfortunately, or maybe admirably, she was waiting to complete her bottom surgery until Earl passed. She loved the old man she called her Granddad, even though there was no blood relation. Earl had saved Bertie from a life of drugs and other unsavory acts in New Orleans, and Bertie was bound and determined to honor his sunset years.

  We never made love in the traditional way, but damn if I cared. I would have done anything to be with her. I showed up at The Church one night only to find a swarm of emergency responders. I can still see the red and blue lights in the darkness if I close my eyes. The scars on my soul weep from her loss.

  I lost Bertie. I will lose Kaci.

  I swipe the tear away as I turn into the cemetery and make my way around the loop. Jaid lays her hand upon mine as she senses my grieving. I swear she is so attuned to me; she can read my thoughts.

  I’m not sure why Kaci didn’t set me up with Jaid. There is that hurt between them that I believe comes into play and whatever it is, I fear it is significant.

  Stopping the car, I watch as Kaci bounds out quick and skips a beeline to the spot. Jaid swivels to me and asks, “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, putting my sunglasses on. “I don’t know.”

  “You’re so cool,” Jaid gushes as a blush tints her cheeks. “Way too cool for me.”

  I snarl and brush the back of my fingers over her delicate skin. “What happened between you?”

  “It isn’t important,” she dismisses, looking straight ahead. “What’s important now is making sure you stay afloat.”

  Pulling the door lever, I exit the vehicle and come around to her side. I prop my elbows on the window and drop my shades just enough so she can see my eyes. “I will be fine.”

  “Sal, people who say I’m fine or I will be fine—very rarely ever are.”

  “I’m starting to hate you.”

  She giggles. “The feeling is mutual.”

  I open the door and take her into my arms. We are hugging, holding on, and silently praying we make it through this—all of it. I toss her hair off her shoulder and whisper in her ear. “Find out why my wife wants me with Iris Kettles.”

  I feel her nod against my scruff. “I’ll do anything you ask.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  We spend hours at the cemetery walking and talking. I’m in the middle, serving as the mediator between the girls who seem to still be at odds despite our previous romp.

  The trees – oaks, mesquites, pecans – blow with a chilly breeze, causing the wind chimes to ring out with a sweet lullaby. It’s a beautiful place that fills my heart with a peaceful harmony. I know, it’s a cemetery and that’s the idea, but not all restin
g places are created equal. I enjoy coming here when I’m not so wrapped up in self-loathing.

  I’m not even fond of myself at the moment.

  Maybe I’m not supposed to be.

  Lowering to her knees, Kaci’s hand skirts across the tombstone. Her voice deposits into the earth with nothing more than a hush, “I miss you so much, B.”

  The scene chills me as I run my hand through my hair and decide a smoke is in order. We are flanking the broken, terminal girl. We are supposed to be the strong ones. Jaid shoots an empathetic gaze at me as I undress her with my eyes. I want to grab her hand, flee, and escape. We could go anywhere in the world, and I could drink myself into a stupor and fuck her senseless. Her lips part slightly as the heat rises between us. We are lusting over one another in a cemetery where my wife will soon be.

  I’m an asshole.

  We go across the street to the park, and I push Kaci on the swing as Jaid snaps pictures. Kaci giggles like a little girl as she flies higher and higher. Her blonde hair swoops against me as I run a few steps with a guided push.

  “Go, girl. Go,” I cheer as we are lost in the laughter of the moment. “Fly!”

  Jaid sits in the one beside her, and they keep swinging, higher and higher as if in a competition to see who can fall off first. Finally, Jaid jumps and lands on her feet making a subtle statement about superiority and health. I yank back the chains on Kaci’s swing before she decides to jump and grab both of their hands like they are two toddlers in trouble for throwing sand in one another’s faces. If I could put them both in timeout, I would, but neither one wishes to take a submissive role with the other present.

  I’m never going to be ready for those timeouts.

  “Make sure he behaves,” Kaci randomly says, breaking our meditative trancelike discipline. “Don’t let him go overboard.”

  Jaid grips my hand tighter and drawls, “You mean like you have?”

  Oh, shit.

  Shots fired from Tennessee whiskey.

  Letting my hand go, Kaci stops our trot and darts in front of me to the other side of the line—me. She is encroaching on Jaid’s space like an alien invader, and I have no doubt this is about to go south. There will be blood drawn in this battle.

  “You fucking whore!” Kaci yells, slapping her hard. “You are the one that pushed Jack away from me!”

  Claiming her ground, Jaid stabilizes in her gait and retorts with a gentle, persuasive accuracy. “I did no such thing, Kacilyn.”

  “Bullshit!”

  My eyes path between the two as I realize all too well the predicament I’ve managed to get myself into this time. I’m beholden to the woman who is my bride, but my future rests in my hand and the kiss of a promise.

  I’m seriously fucked.

  “Ladies, why don’t we go home?”

  “Not until she admits the truth,” Kaci rages, blasting from every angle. “You are the one who told Jack the cancer was back. And he pushed me away because of it.”

  “If you were with Jack, you wouldn’t have Sal,” Jaid points out, maintaining her position. “Besides you and I both know how unrequited that love was and you would admit that if you weren’t pining over the only Master that ever turned you down.”

  “Fuck you!” Kaci spits, fuming with rage as I’ve never seen. She turns away with one last remark, “You have no idea what you are talking about!”

  Jaid attempts to grab Kaci, but I have her hand and refuse to let go. She bounces back like a yo-yo. “He is twenty years older than you. And he never fucking wanted you! He’s in love with your Aunt Serene, and you cannot handle that! You never wanted to see that because not only are you sick, you are blind. Blind as a motherfucking bat! Jack was using you because you were young, fun, and full of energy. You were never marrying material.”

  Ouch.

  True, but ouch.

  “You know what?” Kaci comes barreling back, waving her hands about wildly like a mime. “You’re right! I spent years training under Jack, and he shipped me off to work this case,” she says with a display of her hand to me like I am the case—her case.

  I’m going to be a basket case if this doesn’t stop soon.

  “I wanted to die in Jack’s fucking arms, and you took that away from me!”

  With the girls going at it, I let go and step away because there is nothing left to say.

  At the apartment doors, Kaci and I remain at odds as she heads inside. Jaid grabs my hand, and I pull our door closed most of the way.

  “I’m sorry. I never intended for all of that to explode.”

  I nod and look down as I rub my neck. “It’s easier for me to forget this is all for show, you know?”

  “She loves you, Sal.”

  “Only if she loves the second-place runner-up,” I confess with a pitiful smirk. “I know she loves me. I also know she loves Jack more, but she wanted to leave with something besides Hope on her last name. She believes she has run out of hope. She would have married a vagrant if it eliminated the Hope. I was just the lucky schmuck that got drafted.”

  She sighs and shakes her head. “Why did you do it?”

  “Love,” I softly reply, squeezing her hand and kissing her cheek. “Goodnight, Jaid.”

  Opening the door, I close my eyes knowing all too well about unrequited love. “Salvatore, wait…”

  Looking over my shoulder, I smile at the girl who is just as caught in the mess of Kaci Hope’s lies as I am. Maybe that is why we have such an understanding. We are both wrapped cocoons, struggling against her tethering webs and waiting for her venomous deathly strike.

  Kaci isn’t innocent just because she is dying. She doesn’t get excuses for poor behavior just because her shift is in overtime. And maybe that sounds cruel, but it’s true.

  Kaci has lied to me.

  Kaci has betrayed me.

  Kaci has deceived me.

  I am not her one.

  But she is mine.

  And as I’m standing there looking at the sky blue eyes of Jaid, I’m questioning my motives. How much did I want out of the box? If I would have known how dark Kaci’s world would have been, would I have still made the same choices?

  It’s too late now. We are all too late. The time has passed.

  It takes everything in me not to slam the door and knock the wind out of Jaid with a kiss. I would embrace her tight, carry her inside of the apartment, and make love to this girl until dawn. Just to get away. Just to escape. Please let me bury my dick in you, so I don’t have to feel how badly I have fucked up my life.

  But instead, I disappear inside and close the door. I feel so vacant and alone. So violated and full of contempt. I cannot be helpful to Kace right now. In fact, I won't be nice. I won't even pretend.

  Her words at the park tore the flesh from my body with her very dull talons. It wasn't quick and easy, but slow and torturous—a painful death—one I'm not sure I deserved.

  I slide through the living space to the bedroom. I hear the water running and know she's gone to escape in her hideaway. I leave her be, stripping off my clothes, and flipping the channels until I arrive at sports.

  We are labeled misfits amongst men—Gods of power reckoning with a malicious will. The harder we try and escape their clutches the worse their acts become. And I want to run.

  I’ve always wanted to run. It’s in my nature. I needed away from the grasp of my father and his influence. I trained my mind early to believe when shit gets rough—run. It doesn’t matter where as long as it’s not here. I trust my feet and wits and charm to carry me though.

  I wish there were another way. A more natural way that made sense, but nothing ever does. The situation can vary from my reluctance to submit to my father’s wishes to Kaci’s illness, but it doesn’t matter. My reaction is always the same. Run, find higher ground, a hidden shelter, but get the fuck out now.

  I have questioned many times if Kaci knew this about me and this marriage was her feeble attempt at breaking the behavior. We set up the plan for post-mor
tem for this reason. I’m a fly-by-night playboy set on a mission in an underworld of hedonists. Self-preservation is paramount.

  The bed lamps set off the glistening puddle, streaming out from under the door. Alarms in my brain pound as the reaction comes as naturally as breathing. I open the door slowly, not knowing where Kaci is. Water is pouring, flowing with the force of a wild river as I see her lifeless body in the puddle.

  “Fuck! Kaci!” I howl, racing the clock. I turn off the spigot and crouch to her side. Picking her up, I follow the programming Kaci implemented as my shaking hands push the buttons.

  “Jack,” I calmly say as I scan over Kaci’s adorable face. “She’s down.”

  With an immediate end of the call, I burrow my head down to my chest as the tears trickle. “Dear God, please don’t leave me alone in this life.”

  “I’m fine,” Kaci declares from the sofa an hour later. “I fainted, nothing more or less. I’m dying, remember.”

  I give her a harsh scowl. “You need to go to the hospital.”

  “Fuck no,” she rallies with surprising energy as Jack drapes his stethoscope around his neck. His skills as a physician – trauma surgery and plastics – come into play every time Kaci has an issue. Their history further complicates the relationship dynamic between the three of us.

  Truth is I adore Dr. Jack Kerris. He is a good man, an excellent physician, and a brilliant Master. I’ve been under his rule more than once. With a blazing fury, Kaci vehemently states her request, “I swear to God, Raniero if you let me die within the confines of a hospital—I will never forgive you.”

  My fists clench with indescribable, rampant anger. I want to take Kaci and shake her senseless until she bends to my will. “I’m your husband…”

  Yes, I just played that card.

  “She’s right about being fine, Kid,” Jack says, laying his hand on my arm with a comforting touch. “My guess would be her blood pressure dropped, and she tumbled to the ground before she even knew what was happening.”

 

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