Broken Halo: The Montgomery Series, Book 2

by Asher, Brynne

  “Yes,” I agree and show him how much by raising my ass for more. I want every inch, eager for his touch in any way I can get it.

  I still haven’t admitted my love for him aloud and he hasn’t either, not officially, and I’m not sure why. I think I’m trying to allow my head to catch up with my heart after so much has happened between us, even if it wasn’t our fault in the beginning. When we spend our free time together, we’re with Griffin. We’re a different us than we used to be and there’s some unspoken agreement that we need time despite needing this.

  The craving.

  The lust.

  The obsession.

  Because that’s what it is. When I’m not with him, I yearn for him. And when I’m with him, I can’t get enough. Whether it’s learning his mind all over again, watching him bond with my son, or when we’re like this, completely and totally lost in each other, so deep that I already know if it were taken away from me again, I wouldn’t survive.

  He’s up on his knees now, his fingers digging into the skin at my hips, pulling me to meet his every thrust, taking me hard. It’s Trig’s perfect way of fucking me rough enough to make me want more, taking me to that brink on the edge of pain and pleasure that I can’t get enough of.

  I reach up and press on the headboard for leverage, feeling my head go fuzzy again, begging, “Don’t stop.”

  His groan vibrates through me and I wouldn’t be surprised if I have bruises from his grip on my skin. I squeeze my eyes and let go, my second and stronger orgasm taking over. From my far-away place in ecstasy, I hear Trig mutter a string of curse words.

  I almost cry out in protest when he pulls out but I can’t move because he holds me tight, his cock resting in the crack of my ass when he groans, coming all over my lower back.

  He bends at the waist, coming down on me, covering me with his large frame. My guess, this is closer than we’ve ever been to that cliff but I’m too tired and relaxed right now to care.

  He presses his cock into the top of my ass and kisses the side of my head. “What do you have going today?”

  I sigh because I couldn’t move if I wanted to. “I’m meeting with my graphic designer who’s also building my website. I need to get up and get going and be at my house before my sitter gets there.”

  Trig exhales and I feel it everywhere. Like he’s about to protest or argue but instead, he runs a possessive hand down my side. “It’s six-thirty. You have time for a shower?”

  I smile into my pillow and crane my neck around to catch his eyes. “You defiled me again. I have no choice—I need a shower.”

  His blue eyes warm. “If that’s the case, I’m going to make it my mission to defile you daily.”

  “And let my massive box of condoms go to waste?”

  He brushes the side of my breast with his fingertips. “I hate condoms.”

  “I can tell.”

  A frown mars his brow. “You’re not happy?”

  “About you playing Russian roulette, sperm-style, with your finger on the trigger? I do know how you got your nickname, remember?”

  “My uncle gave me that nickname when I was eight. I hardly got it because of my sperm, baby.”

  I smile. “You’re squishing me. Let me roll over.”

  He gives me a fraction more of his weight. “No. You’ve got my sperm all over you. You’re a mess, then we’ll have to clean the sheets and I hate fucking around with a fitted sheet.”

  “So you’d rather fuck around with me?” I quip.

  My comment might’ve been offhand but the mirth disappears from his rugged features. “Every day, angel. I want to fuck around with you every single day for the rest of my life.”

  My goofy grin shrinks into a content smile because this is what we’ve been doing. This comfortable thing—the getting to know you when we already know all there is to know. And what I’ve learned only makes him better. I knew he was smart and he’s used that brain to become an intelligent and skilled attorney. That he has zero experience with babies, but with Griffin, he’s natural and at ease, getting to know him in his own way and not apologizing for feeding him french fries or, like last night, Ranch flavored Doritos because in Trig’s words, the boy cannot live on broccoli and vanilla wafers alone.

  So that’s why I hate myself for not telling him I love him. When I was seventeen, I knew I could love him after he kissed me the first time. It was cemented into my heart three weeks later when we snuck off in the middle of the night to do nothing but look at the stars as he told me he hadn’t left Texas yet because his mom needed him and he was afraid to leave her with his asshole of a dad. I’ll never forget the look on his face as he stared off into the dark, new-moon sky and described the horrors of how he grew up. When he looked back to me, he admitted he’d never told anyone those real-life nightmares and he was sorry he laid them on my soul.

  I didn’t say a thing—there was nothing to say. I just crawled onto his chest and melted into him, wanting to take it all away. Despite him getting to second base with me the night before, that night we were content to lay in each other’s arms on an old blanket as we were eaten up by Texas-sized mosquitoes, but we didn’t care.

  I loved him from that moment on.

  And I love him more now. I didn’t think it was possible.

  I look into his serious blues and tell him the truth but not all of it. “I want to fuck around with you for the rest of my life, too.”

  It seems I’m also a coward and that’s a new predicament.

  He closes his eyes and leans in to kiss me. “Let’s shower before Griffin decides to take on the day like the badass baby he is.”

  He knows.

  I nod and he pushes off me, his large and beautiful naked frame standing by the bed as he holds out his hand. I crawl out of bed and we go to the guest bath in Faye’s house. I don’t even care that my shower at home is literally seven times larger than this one.

  Right now, this is the perfect place for us.

  * * *

  Trig

  “You’re sure? It’s a seller’s market right now and I know it’ll go fast if you can get it ready before school starts.”

  “I’m sure.” I shake my head as I try to respond to an email while I listen to my realtor try to talk me out of keeping my mom’s house.

  “With that lot in the middle of the city, someone can flip it and make it into something spectacular.”

  I forget my email and sit back in my chair because he’s pissing me off. No one is going to flip my mother’s house. Not after practically living in it with Ellie. If anyone is going to make it spectacular, it’s going to be me.

  And Ellie.

  And we’ll do it for Griffin and the babies that comes after that. I do know she needs to sort out some birth control and soon. I’ve always used a condom with everyone but her. With her, it seems wrong. I fucking hate anything between us after being apart. But it’s getting harder and harder to pull out and if anyone knows that pulling out is no form of contraception, it’s us.

  Jessica rings in and I put an end to the realtor. “I’ll get with you when I decide to sell the condo. I’ve got another call.”

  “Let’s talk about that condo—”

  “Thanks. Talk to you soon.” I’m done and cut him off. “Sorry, Jessica. I was trying to get off a call.”

  “Easton.” She’s speaking low and sounds a mix of nervous, irritated, and yet still curious. “There’s a man in the main lobby demanding to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment. I didn’t want to give him permission to come up here before speaking with you.”

  “Who is it?”

  She pauses and this time is apprehensive. “He claims to be your father. Ray Barrett.”

  I’ve been keeping a close watch on him and he’s stopped driving by my mom’s house but has gone by Ellie’s studio twice. Both times Eli was there and my dad didn’t as much as slow down, which was a relief, and he hasn’t been back. He actually did start his job—one of Eli’s guys has pictures of him
working on a construction crew.

  For him to be here now is more than interesting, as well as concerning. “If the conference room off the lobby is open, have them put him there. I’m on my way.”

  “Do you need security—” Jessica starts.

  “No, I’m good.” If the bastard came here to talk, I want him to feel free to do so.

  * * *

  “Easton, she’s at the hospital.”

  “I can’t find her, Mom. I’m here and they won’t give me any information on her since we aren’t married.”

  I yank my hand through my hair. She’s somewhere in this fucking building and I can’t get to her.

  “Go to Maternity and ask. Lie and tell them you’re her husband. The police wouldn’t let me go in the ambulance. Easton, find her. I’m worried. There was so much blood…”

  “Fuck.”

  With my heart beating out of my chest I do exactly what my mom told me to do—I lie.

  It works. It’s a fucking maze but I finally find her. Not able to wait another second, I push through the door and there she is. She’s facing away from me, her blond hair a mess under a bandage wrapped around the top of her head. A nurse is fussing over her and messing with an IV.

  “I’m sorry. Can I help you?” the nurse asks.

  I don’t answer. I go straight to the woman I love, to the woman who’s gone through hell with her parents because of us—because of me.

  Kipp fired me. I knew it would happen and I already had a couple jobs lined up. Once she found out she was pregnant, we held off telling anyone for as long as possible so we could plan. But she was set to leave for Juilliard next week and we were out of time.

  Jen did what she could to soften that blow for Ellie but Hattie thought the world was ending and Kipp was just fucking pissed. It didn’t matter what we said, how we felt, or how much we loved each other.

  Kipp Montgomery didn’t give a shit.

  Ellie called me three hours ago while I was signing the papers for my new job so she and the baby would have insurance. She said she’d had it out with her dad again and was leaving. I told her to wait and I’d come get her.

  She wouldn’t listen and said she’d go to my house and wait on me there. I spent as little time on that property as I could the last couple years and have been living in the bunk house on the Montgomery ranch. We argued and I finally gave in because, when it comes to her, I always do.

  And no one was there but my fucking father. I haven’t figured out what went down yet, but when I do, I’ll kill the son of a bitch myself. That motherfucker was cooking meth. Fucking meth. He was too busy doing what he liked to do the most, acting like a fool, and started harassing Ellie. His shop exploded and Ellie was hit with debris. My mom got home right after it happened.

  That’s all I know.

  “Baby.” I barely recognize my own voice and Ellie whimpers. I make my way around her bed and the nurse doesn’t question me again but when she looks at me, she silently shakes her head with the saddest, most depressing look on her face possible.

  No.

  When I finally get to her, my angel, fuck … she’s broken. And that’s when I know without a doubt.

  When she sees me, her beautiful face that’s scraped and already bruising, breaks. I kick off my shoes and climb into bed with her.

  “Is she going to be okay?” I ask the nurse.

  “In time. Watch her head,” the nurse whispers. “She’s got a concussion and we’ve given her meds for the pain.”

  I nod and pull her into my arms. She’s trembling and her sobs wrack my body. I’d do anything to take it all from her.

  “Shh,” I whisper into her matted hair and rub her back. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. That you were there alone.”

  “It’s gone,” her voice trembles and her tears leak down my neck. “Our baby … it’s gone.”

  My throat thickens and I squeeze my eyes.

  Her voice breaks as she clings to me. “No March ninth.”

  “Angel.” I swallow over the softball-sized lump in my throat. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t leave me, Trig. Please. Promise you won’t leave me.”

  I put my lips to her bandaged forehead as moisture leaks down my face for us and for the baby we’ll never know. “I promise, I’ll never leave you…”

  The door to the conference room clicks and the man I’m forced to call my father because of DNA turns to face me. It makes me sick his blood runs through my veins. His hair, that used to be the color of mine, is now more salt than pepper. Besides the extra lines set deep into his face, he doesn’t look that different. I surpassed him in height when I was nineteen and stand three inches taller, I’m broader but he’s still no slouch and must’ve used his time wisely in the Huntsville prison yard.

  Clicking his tongue at me like a rooster in heat, he shakes his head. “Trigger. Look at you. All grown up and educated and,” he lifts both shoulders and tips his head, “fancy? Yep, you’re fancy as fuck.”

  I school my features and slide my hands in my pockets. “What the hell do you want?”

  His head jerks. “Is that all ya gotta say to your old man? Did ya even know I was out?”

  “I did.”

  “And ya didn’t come to see me.” He clucks that damn tongue again. If there weren’t cameras in here recording everything, I might hold him down and rip it out of his mouth so I’d never have to listen to it again. He raises his voice. “What kind of son are ya?”

  My phone vibrates and I pull it out of my pocket and look to the screen. Pettit.

  “Boy. I’m talkin’ to ya.”

  “Yes, you are. Unfortunately, I can still hear you,” I mutter.

  Eli – Tracker says Ray’s at MI.

  Me – I can confirm that since he’s standing in front of me.

  Eli – What’s he want?

  “I’m talkin’ to you!” he yells and starts around the table but I hold my hand up and angle my eyes, halting him.

  Me – We’re in the conference room off the lobby in case you feel like being a fly on the wall.

  I slide my phone back into my pocket, taking a step toward him. “I’ve had eyes on you for years. I knew you were out and I knew you were back. If I don’t look like I’m excited to see you, it’s because I’m not. You should’ve rotted away for another five years for what you did to Ellie. If I don’t speak to you for the rest of my life, it’ll be too soon. Now, I’ve got a job that needs my attention—what do you want?”

  “The fuck? You haven’t had eyes on me.”

  I lift a shoulder. “Think what you want. I have a meeting and you’ve got one minute before I have security escort you out.”

  He narrows his eyes. “You’re working for Kipp? Thought ya had a fallin’ out with him after ya knocked up his girl.”

  I don’t lose my cool. It’s something I’ve learned over the last ten years, something I had to train myself to do—to be controlled, strike with my words, the law, or bend it to my suiting. Whatever I do, I do it by using the brain God gave me instead of an over-inflated ego and brute force like my father.

  Simply, I had to train myself not to be a Barrett even though I am one, through and through.

  But he stepped over the line when he mentioned Ellie.

  “Watch your fucking mouth. Do not even think about her, do you understand me?”

  “Really?” He knows he struck a chord and he’s more than willing to strum that fucker loud and shrill just to get me riled. “Ya afraid she’ll be in the wrong place at the wrong time again? What’re ya gonna do about it, fancy fucker? It’d be a shame if somethin’ happened to her—again.”

  I shake my head and press my lips together before looking to the ceiling. “Thought you’d be used to this, since you’ve lived under constant surveillance for so long.” I lift my index finger and circle it before looking back to him. “You just threatened Ellie Montgomery on surveillance video in the building owned by her family.”

  His eyes shoot around
the room.

  I shrug. “And I’m her attorney and you’re on probation. I think I’m going to have to look into getting a restraining order against you. It’s been awhile since I worked in defense, but I know probation officers don’t look favorably on that.”

  His jaw goes hard as he realizes what he’s done. “Just wait a second. That’s not why I came here.”

  “Your minute’s almost up.”

  “I need help.” It pains him to spit the words, I can tell.

  “And you’re coming to me?” I shake my head. “You were always a tool, but this proves how deep your stupidity is ingrained.”

  “You’re makin’ a mint,” he notes, lifting his chin to me. “I just got out and need ya to spot your old man.”

  I tip my head. “You really think I’d lift a finger to help you, let alone give you money?”

  He presses his lips together as if it’s painful for him to have come to me. “I got nothin’ and it’s yur fault. Yurs and that stupid Montgomery girl.”

  I take another step so we’re a foot apart and lower my eyes to meet his. “If I had all the money in the world, I wouldn’t toss you a penny. But kudos for putting on a pair of balls big enough to come here and ask.”

  “Trig—” he tries, but I’m done.

  I lean in to give him a slap on the back and when I’m close, I grip his shoulder so hard I feel him tense as I whisper low for only his ears—not one camera or microphone could pick it up, not even Eli Pettit is that good. “And if you so much as sneeze in Ellie Montgomery’s direction, I’ll kill you with my own hands. Got it?”

  I pull back and he looks as though he wants to shove a shiv in my jugular, but for once, he actually uses his brain and restrains himself.

  I raise my voice to a normal level and slap his shoulder one more time. “Good to catch up with you, Ray. Look forward to the restraining order.” I point to the ceiling again. “I’ll even send you a copy of our reunion video.”