by Amiee Louise
I’m trembling at thought of what happened next and Brody pulls me closer to him.
“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to, kitten.”
I shake my head.
“No, it needs to be out there, I saw a car, but the headlights blinded me. I couldn’t tell who it was and the next thing I know, I’m being shoved into an alleyway. I banged my head, he punched me, pushed me to the floor and he…he…raped me.”
I can’t stop the flow of tears that track their way down my cheeks. I sob hard, as he pulls me closer to him and kisses the top of my head.
“Shh, you’re safe, kitten, I’ve got you, he’s not going to fucking get away with this, I promise you.”
From the pure conviction in his voice, I don’t doubt his feelings for me, not for one second.
25
Brody
The contrast of her lilac hair against the crisp white of my pillow, made her look ethereal and almost otherworldly. Even though I was somewhat aware of how fucking creepy it was, I couldn't take my eyes off her. She was beautiful, like an angel sent to redeem every fucking sin I'd ever committed. The way her chest rose and fell as she slept soundly in my bed. I can't resist her, I lean over her and start kissing her at the base of her throat, up the slender hollow of her neck and round to nibble her ear. She squirms, wriggling against me and my boner instantly pops up to say hello.
"Mmmm," she moans as I continue my journey up her neck and across her face. She starts grinding against me and all of a sudden my frisky kitten is awake.
"Hey beautiful," I greet her, slipping my hand inside her camisole, rubbing her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
She grabs a handful of my hair between her fingers and tugs gently.
"Brody."
I chuckle against her neck.
"I've got you, kitten, I'll take care of you like I always do, I promise. I'm going to make you come over and over again until you beg me to stop."
I settle myself between her legs, alternating teasing her nipple with my teeth and my tongue, as she writhes beneath me.
“Oh God!”
I reach down and I press one finger to her slit and gently rub and tease her wet folds, as I continue to play with her nipples.
“Brody.”
The evidence of her excitement was coating my forefinger, as I inserted two fingers easily inside her. Her soft whimpers of encouragement were a clear indication that she was beyond aroused. I continue to finger fuck her; she’s panting and breathless. She grabs her breast in her hand and bites her lip.
“Oh Jesus, I’m close, so fucking close!”
I tease her swollen nub and I can feel her pulsing around my fingers, she’s about to orgasm as there’s a soft tap on the door. Are you fucking serious right now?
“I’m busy!” I shout impatiently as the door taps again but more insistent this time.
For fucks sake. Raleigh moans softly and I leap ungraciously from the bed.
“Sorry, kitten, I’ll make it up to you.”
I wink, swinging open the door, wiping the remnants of Raleigh’s arousal on my boxers. I am greeted by Freddie standing at the door. I thought they were meant to be in Brighton until Sunday evening? He’s wearing blue dungarees, a black and white striped t-shirt and black Converse.
“Uncle Bwody, was Auntie Raleigh praying? She was shouting ‘Oh Jesus’.”
I try to stifle my laughter.
“Erm…yeah, she was. She goes to church every Sunday.”
I bite my lip, desperately trying to quell my laughter. Raleigh snickers and Freddie smiles a toothy smile, looking very proud of himself.
“Where’s mummy, mate?” I ask him softly, and he giggles mischievously.
Fucking hell, that giggle melts my heart.
“I thought you, mummy, daddy and Zacky were meant to be at Nana and Grampy’s?”
He reaches for me to pick him up and I swing him up in my arms.
“To be continued, kitten? Coffee?”
She nods, burying her head in the pillow and pulling the sheets to cover herself.
“Come on, trouble.”
I take Freddie down the hallway and down the stairs into the kitchen. I’m greeted by Peyton, barefoot, in her pyjamas, a black t-shirt with the words ‘But first coffee’ and black and white checkered shorts. She’s stirring a cup of coffee and she looks up at me as she sees me approach.
“Freddie Bear, there you are!” she coos, and I chuckle, kissing her tenderly on her forehead.
“And a good morning to you, sweets,” she laughs, as I set him down on his feet and he takes off at a hundred miles an hour. Jesus, he’s got far too much energy for this early on a Saturday morning.
“Morning, I’m so sorry, babe, did he disturb you? We were meant to be at my mum and dad’s until Sunday, but I got a call from Seb, he’s split up with Willow and his mum’s been rushed into hospital. I’m covering the shop indefinitely; we drove back last night and into the early hours. I’m fucking knackered and I feel like I’ve hardly slept. I need to do the shop banking and I’ve got back-to-back appointments today,” she says sounding irritated, which is unusual because she loves her job.
“Is everything ok? You never complain about your job, want to talk about it?”
She sighs and leans heavily on the kitchen island, as I step closer to her.
“I think I’m pregnant, Brody.”
My eyes widen and she pauses, putting her hand to her face.
“Holy fucking shit!” I curse excitedly. “Have you pissed on a stick, or whatever girly shit you women do?”
She tries to suppress her smirk at my infamous tactfulness, and she shakes her head. “No, not yet I’m fucking terrified of the result.”
She bites her lip, avoiding my gaze.
“Then what the fuck are you waiting for? We need to know whether there’s another little Sammy on board. Does he know?”
She shakes her head no again and I move closer to her, wrapping her in my arms. She’s showing the same fear that she has in all her pregnancies, she’s terrified that Sam’s going to run out on her like her scumbag fucking ex did.
“You do know that boy would walk through hell for you and those boys? I get you’ve been burned in the past, but he’s proven to you time and time again that he’s committed to you, you’re married with two kids for fucks sake!” I try to reassure her, but she bursts into uncontrollable floods of tears.
“Hey! What’s with the tears?”
She breaks down right in front of me and it’s weird because I have a major issue with crying women, I just can’t deal with it. She’s the only woman who can cry in front of me and it doesn’t set my nerves on edge. I wrap her in my arms and she just clings to me as if her life depends on it.
“Hey, shhh, I’ve got you, sweets, I’ve got you.”
It takes her a few minutes to compose herself and I squeeze her tighter.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” I coax softly, and she’s silent for a few minutes, burying her head deeper into my chest.
“Don’t hide from me, sweets, you know you can talk to me.”
I unwrap her from my hold and tilt her chin up to face me. The look in her eyes breaks my heart, I hate seeing my best friend in obvious pain. She’s such a selfless soul, she does everything for everyone else, without a care in the world for herself.
“I’m terrified he’s going to have another one of his episodes. He’s been doing so well lately I don’t want anything to jeopardise that,” she admits, almost shamefully and starts to sob softly again.
This time I just wrap her in my arms and allow her to find some sort of comfort there.
Raleigh
He’s been gone for an awfully long time, I decide to untangle myself from his bedsheets which still smell deliciously and distinctly of Brody Hart. I inhale them deeply and take in the rich, musky, masculine scent of him, silently grateful he can’t see me right now. Get a grip, Storm. I pull on a discarded heather grey t-shirt
of his and take out a clean pair of boxers of his out of his drawer. I put them on and head out of his room in search of him. I can hear muffled voices and soft female sobs, as I get to the bottom of the stairs. I turn the corner and quietly linger, I spot him with his arms around Peyton. He’s talking softly to her and comforting her. I see him tilt her chin up with the tip of his finger and the moment is so intimate and tender I can’t help the pang of jealousy that hits me right in the gut. I know deep down I’ve got nothing to be jealous of, they’re just friends, but part of me still can’t help thinking why isn’t he like that with me? I round the corner and make my presence known. He doesn’t jump back from her, he kisses the end of her nose.
“Come and find me in a little while, babe? We’ll talk more?”
He winks and spins around to face me.
“Morning, kitten,” he purrs, and I chuckle softly.
“Good morning to you, handsome.”
Peyton rolls her eyes, scrubbing the wetness away from her red, puffy eyes.
“Get a fucking room!” she quips, and he kisses me chastely on the lips.
“I’m going for my morning workout, fancy joining me?”
I decline and as he heads down to the basement, I’m left in the kitchen with Peyton. She swipes her eyes again and sniffs, as she turns to me, regardingly me intently.
“What’s on your mind, girl? You look like you need a chat?” she enquires softly, and I sigh, perching myself on the tall lacquered stool at the kitchen island. I’m silently grateful that she doesn’t mention anything about the cuts and bruises on my face.
"He never gives away anything of himself. He's locked up tight, trying to get anything out of him is like pulling teeth, it's fucking painful."
Peyton chuckles softly.
"Oh, he gives himself away alright, that's why he's shit at poker, the guys love to play with Brody because it's an easy win! He's got so many tells it's ridiculous! He might think he's being subtle about it, but trust me he isn't! Not at all!”
We both laugh.
“He’s not hard to figure out, he’s a simple creature, all men are. I’ll let you into a little secret, you just have to work out what makes them tick!”
She winks and I find myself smiling right along with her. She turns to the kitchen island and ties her hair into a loose ponytail with a hair tie she pulls from her wrist and she turns around to reveal a ‘Mrs Newbolt’ tattoo in flowing script lettering on the back of her neck.
“Mrs Newbolt?”
I’ve never seen it before and I wonder curiously, as she giggles girlishly.
“Ah, you spotted that, huh?”
I smirk.
“Sure did! Come on, spill it, I’m sensing there’s a story?”
We both laugh.
“I lost a bet! Do you know the story? Sam earned his stage name ‘Bolt’ because he has a tattoo of a lightning bolt on his arse! And I’m sure you’re familiar with the story of why they call Brody ‘Snake’?”
I lick my lips at the thought of the snake tattoo wrapped around Brody’s cock.
“Down girl! Well, Sam and Brody are the most competitive members of Rancid Vengeance and I wanted in, obviously!” she explains on a dramatic eye roll.
“We all piled in to Saint Sinner one night. The bet was for one of us to be blindfolded and a person chosen at random was to tattoo the person who was blindfolded. Brody tattooed me and I guessed wrong. He tattooed a smiley face and a love heart behind my ear.”
She turns her head to reveal a perfectly lined smiley face and a red love heart.
“I guessed it was Sam who tattooed me, the loser had to get a tattoo from the person who they guessed it was, so Sam tattooed Mrs Newbolt on the back of my neck!”
We both giggle at the ridiculousness of it and she places a cup underneath the coffee machine. There’s a momentary silence while the machine whizzes and whirrs as the cup fills. I’m desperate to know what she talked to Brody about, and I turn to her thoughtfully, opening and closing my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. She chuckles softly as she pushes the now full steaming cup of coffee towards me.
“You can ask me, you know?” she declares, and I shift my gaze elsewhere, suddenly feeling guilty for my nosiness.
“Ask you what?”
I feign ignorance and she throws her head back on a laugh.
“What Brody and me were talking about, that’s what you wanted to ask, right? It’s ok, I don’t mind.”
I shake my head. “I’m not one of those needy girls, it’s not that I don’t trust him, I do, with my life, I just wish he’d talk to me the way he talks to you.”
She moves towards me and I shift my eyes up to look at her.
“Gives him time, you’re still getting to know each other, don’t push him, just…let it be!” she sings and we both laugh.
The laughter is short lived, as her next words shock me to the core.
“I think I’m pregnant again.”
I instantly feel bad for forcing her to admit something which was quite clearly personal. Well played, Storm, well fucking played.
I’m about to ask her about it when we’re interrupted by Freddie’s excited squeals.
“Mummy! Mummy!”
I laugh, as he bounds into Peyton’s legs. She swings him up into her arms and she covers his face in kisses. I watch with rapt attention at their interaction and a thought crosses my mind.
“When did you realise you were in love with Sam?” I ask and a dreamy look crosses her face.
"I knew the minute he set foot into Saint Sinner that I was going to marry him. I knew I loved him the moment he took my breath away and kissed me for the first time." She sighs. "When did you know you were in love with Brody?"
Her question catches me off guard and I stutter my answer, "I...I don't, I’m not in love with him."
She chuckles softly.
"Bullshit."
Freddie plays with her hair and idly twirls it in his fingers.
"Mummy bullshit!"
Peyton goes an adorable shade of pink.
"Now you know you don't say bad words, Freddie. That's very naughty, don't say it again, please, or mummy will be very cross," she says sternly and his lip quivers.
"Sorry mummy."
Her faces softens, as Sam walks in wearing a loose pair of jogging bottoms, which hang low on his hips. His hair is perfectly mussed, and he chucks Freddie’s chin.
"Hey, what’s up little guy?"
Freddie looks at Sam.
"Mummy said a bad word."
Peyton’s eyes narrow and Sam cocks his pierced eyebrow.
"Did she now? I think mummy needs a good spanking don't you, buddy?" Sam rasps and Peyton blushes furiously.
I find myself smiling at their dynamic and hope that someday Brody and me could have the perfect relationship. Just like Sam and Peyton.
26
Raleigh
When you’ve hit rock bottom and survived, there are very few things in life that can scare you. Sometimes, you have to get knocked down lower than you have ever been, to stand back up taller than you ever were. For the past few weeks, this is the first thought that enters my head when I wake up in the morning, it’s the first step to positive thinking. My sessions with Maverick have been long, emotional, and often, paired with yoga and the gym, I’m feeling good for the first time in a long time.
I stretch out like a cat in Brody’s queen size bed and turn over to find an empty space where Brody should be. I’ve stayed over at his place since the night Carter raped me and I’ll be forever grateful to him for being there for me that night. He was my saviour; my guardian angel and I don’t think I could love him more. Brody is an insomniac, and it’s exceedingly rare that I wake up next to him in the mornings. He usually goes for a morning run, then comes back, showers, I do my morning yoga and he cooks me breakfast. That’s been our routine for the past two weeks and I couldn’t be happier.
I swing my legs out of bed and head downstairs to the open plan living ro
om, which opens out into a large, modern spacious kitchen, its slate grey floor, cold against my feet. The kitchen is immaculate and neat with everything in its place. The dark grey marble worktop and cool light grey tones to contrast, with appliances to match the theme. It looks suitably stylish and matches the cool, neutral interior of the rest of the house.