Confessions (Tattoos & Tears Book 3)
Page 21
“Make a wish, baby girl!” Cole says.
Addison blows out her candles and giggles girlishly. It is the most adorable sound I have ever heard and my heart slams against my rib cage as my mind wanders to a fleeting image of a radiant, smiling Peyton holding our baby. I suddenly stop singing. I swallow hard and stand stock-still. All eyes of the people gathered around are on me. I feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, and my heart starts pounding in my chest. Fuck me; I need to get out of here.
“Uncle Sammy? Uncle Sammy?”
Addison’s tiny voice cuts through my swimming thoughts. Jax continues playing his guitar, but he is regarding me intently with a narrow, cautious stare. I am shaken from my thoughts by Addison tugging on my t-shirt.
“Just give me a minute baby girl, I...I’ll be right back, I promise.”
I rush out of the room and up to the bathroom. Fuck, I need to get it together. Leaving the door slightly ajar, I pull down the toilet seat and sit down. I put my head between my legs. My heart is pounding, and my blood is roaring in my ears.
“Come on, not here. Breathe, Newbolt,” I mutter to myself, and the door squeaks open as a soft female voice interrupts me.
“Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, you know?”
I recognise the voice as Fiona.
“Is that sexual harassment suit still on the table, Red?” I say sarcastically, and she chuckles softly.
“Only if you promise not to dance, because frankly, that was actually quite disturbing!” she says drily, and I laugh.
I get to my feet, and she looks up at me.
“And just for the record my names Fiona, not Red,” she says in her soft Irish lilt.
She offers me her hand, and I shake it, holding her hand in mine a little longer than necessary.
“I’m Sam. You don’t look like the type of woman who picks up womanising rock stars at kids’ birthday parties, Fiona.”
She cocks her eyebrow.
“There’s that chip on your shoulder again, therein lies the problem. I don’t give a shit that you’re a rock star; I don’t go in for all that. You might have women falling over themselves to have sex with you, but that’s not me, and it never will be. I had your card marked as soon as I clapped eyes on you, but in there, when you were singing happy birthday, I saw something change in you, Sam. You showed your vulnerable side.”
I nod.
“Fair observation, sweetheart. But a word of advice, don’t try to figure me out. I’m not a puzzle you can solve, and I’m definitely not a broken toy that needs fixing.”
I take a long pull of my beer, and she narrows her eyes, regarding me intently.
“I’ve met men like you before.”
I smirk.
“I very much doubt that, babe.”
She frowns.
“Why do you do that? Deflect the subject and make a joke of everything?”
I tuck one hand in my pocket.
“Do you really want an answer to that?” I say coolly.
She turns around, closes the door and flips the lock.
“Not really. I thought you were an arrogant, cocky prick when I first laid eyes on you, but I know now that I made an assumption and judged you before I gave you a chance. What I originally thought was definitely not an accurate observation.”
She stalks towards me and pushes me as forcefully as her small frame can manage against the wall, pressing her pert breasts against my chest.
“I want you,” she purrs, and I raise my eyebrows.
“I don’t do refunds, sweetheart,” I say gruffly.
She cups my growing erection in her hand and begins to stroke me through my jeans. I growl.
“I don’t want a refund; I just want you to fuck me,” she says with a hint of pleading in her voice.
I smile, bringing out my infamous dimples and I reach under her skirt, casually sliding her damp knickers to the side to give me access to her dripping wet pussy. I push my finger inside her and start to slowly finger fuck her. She moans softly.
“Just so we’re clear, this is going to be hard sex, no romance, no hearts or flowers, just sex,” I rasp, and she grips my erection harder.
“Just shut up and fuck me, rock star,” she says breathlessly as she reaches forward to unzip my jeans. I lean forward to free my hard cock from the confines of my boxers and pull my fingers out of her.
“Do you have a condom?”
I pull a condom out of my wallet and tear the foil packet open with my teeth. I wink cheekily, as I roll the rubber onto my rock-hard length. I lift her up effortlessly, as she wraps her legs around me and impale her onto my waiting stiffness. She gasps aloud, and I growl my appreciation.
“God, you’re so fucking tight.”
She buries her head against my neck to stifle her moans of pleasure as I lift her up and bring her down on my cock again. I find my rhythm and begin to quicken my pace.
“Oh God!” she cries out, and I silence her by pressing my lips against hers.
I suck her bottom lip, and she digs her nails into my biceps as the intense pleasure rolls through us both. I increase my expert thrusts and spin us both around so she is pressed against the wall. I shove her up the wall with each drive, until I find a delicious rhythm that allows me to plunge deeper inside her. She moans softly and bites her lip, as if she is holding back.
“Don’t hold back on me, sweetheart, let it go,” I say huskily as I continue my vigorous pace.
I reach into her bra and roll her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
“Oh fuck, your cock feels so good,” she says desperately.
“How long has it been since you’ve had a cock in you, sweetheart?” I say gruffly as I roughly shove forward, and she gasps.
“Oh, oh God, too fucking long. Oh fuck, Sam, harder. Fuck me harder, don’t you dare stop.”
I pump tirelessly in and out of her slick, aching channel, and I feel her inner walls grip my cock.
“You’re close. I can feel you, sweetheart, the way you’re gripping my cock,” I say throatily, and she wraps her arms around my neck.
“I want you screaming my fucking name as you come, sweetheart.”
She nods, as she tugs the hair at the nape of my neck.
“I’m close, so close. Christ, Sam, I’m going to come.”
I swivel my hips as I push into her forcefully and that’s all it takes for her to detonate around me as her orgasm sweeps over her. She throws her head back and lets out a strangled cry of pure ecstasy.
“AHH! SAM! OH, OH, OH, SAM! OH.MY.GOD! SAM!”
Moments later, I find my release with a garbled, low growl of satisfaction from deep within my chest. She leans her head back against the wall while she finds her breath as we both come down from our orgasms. I pull out of her and set her down on wobbly legs. I don’t feel the usual blissed-out gratification after blowing my load. I feel nothing. I pull off the condom, knot it, wrap it in tissue and flush it down the toilet. I tuck myself back into my boxers, zip up my jeans, and straighten my clothes in a relatively awkward silence. Fiona is combing her hair with her fingers in the mirror, and she catches my lifeless gaze.
“So, aren’t you going to say anything?” she says spikily, and I tuck my hands into the pockets of my jeans.
“What can I say, sweetheart? We fucked, and if I’m totally honest, the earth didn’t really move for me.” I say coldly, and she widens her eyes.
“Wow! You really are a fucking selfish bastard.”
I shrug nonchalantly, and she lashes her hand across my face. I smirk cockily and raise my eyebrows. What is it with fucking women and slapping?
“There were at least ten women in that room downstairs who would have killed for me to bury my cock inside them and fuck them so hard that they would still feel me the next day. But in my sick, twisted fucking mind, I decided to go for the one who wasn’t in the least bit interested in me.”
I move closer to her, like a predator stalking its prey, and I drop my voice.
I wink cockily, spin round and leave, as I hear the distinct sound of a shoe hitting the door.
35
Peyton
I steps closer to him and I reach out to smooth the frown line between his eyebrows. Just by touching him, I still have the ability to affect him, like I did while we were together. He takes my hand in his and strokes my knuckles softly. He places a kiss on the back of my hand and I smile shyly. That simple gesture, has my heart beat quickening and for the first time in over a year, I feel some semblance of happiness. I smile a genuine smile to myself, as he continues to make the coffee and hands me a cup.
“Milk, two sugars, right?”
I nod and smiles shyly, as I take the cup from him, he brushes my fingers as I takes it from him. Some things never change. He smirks, as he gestures for me to step into the living room, ahead of him. I catch him checking me out over my shoulder.
“Are you checking me out, Newbolt?”
He chuckles softly, as I look over my shoulder at him.
“That would be telling, wouldn’t it, angel?”
He winks, and I visibly shudder. He subtly presses his hard body into my back. We both sit down on the sofa and he sits close to me, with his arm spread out across the back of the sofa. We sit in silence for a few minutes.
“I wanted to apologise for Jax at the hospital earlier, you didn’t deserve that, and he was way out of line.”
I shake my head.
“He was right, he was angry, and I don’t blame him, Sam.”
He places his hand on mine and regards me intently.
“Are you ever going to tell me what happened, angel?”
That is the moment I take a deep breath and begin to speak.
Here goes nothing. I don't particularly want to tell Sam what I endured at the hands of J.D, but part of me knows I have to tell him, for the sake of our relationship, or lack thereof, to move forward. No more secrets, no lies, just pure honesty, from here on out.
"You have to understand, it’s hard for me to relive what I went through, Sam. The truth is, there were a few moments where I thought I wasn't going to survive. I thought so many times of just giving up, letting him do what the fuck he wanted to me, to just stop fighting and accept the fact that he was going to kill me… kill both of us. I was so resigned to the fact, that I didn't even have a plan of what I was going to do when I eventually escaped, if I escaped at all. After he stabbed me, I was surprised I had actually survived and grateful he was such an incompetent fucking idiot that he couldn’t even manage to kill me properly. As I clawed my way out of that hole he buried me in, I made a split-second decision to protect my baby, and I didn't hesitate. I couldn’t give a shit that I’d been stabbed and I was bleeding. All I wanted was for our baby to be safe. I was fucking terrified. He scared me, Sam. Everything about him: his demeanour, his eyes, his voice, the not knowing what he was going to do next."
I squeeze my eyes shut at the memories threatening to surface and overwhelm me from every angle. He seems to realise and entwines his fingers with mine. His thumb is softly stroking reassuringly across my knuckles.
"He did unspeakable things to me, Sam. He cut me, he stabbed me, he beat me senseless, and he played clever mind games. I fucking hate him so much for what he did to me, to you, to us; I wish he had never been born.”
Even though my voice is filled with fire and intense hatred, it still trembles. Sam moves closer until we are inches apart on his sofa. I can feel the warmth radiating from his large frame, and I breathe in the scent of him. The smell of Joop, mint, and pure Sam Newbolt.
“I know I should have picked up the phone and called you, to tell you I was alive, but I was so fucking hurt. My world had literally crashed down around me. He told me you asked him to do those sick, depraved things and you knew he had taken me. I was in that fucking room for hours, Sam, listening to him spill those evil, poisonous, vile things.”
A tear slips down my cheek, and Sam wipes it away with the pad of his thumb. I shiver as his finger makes contact with my skin and he chuckles softly. I look at him questioningly, and he shakes his head.
“You shiver every time I touch you, angel.”
My lips quirk at the corners into a smile. I take his hand in mine and trace the calluses on his fingers. The contrast of the roughness of his fingers and the softness of mine. I continue my exploration of his hand, and he watches me closely; he doesn’t take his eyes off me.
“Having fun, angel?”
I look up at him, and my eyes lock with his.
“Hmm.”
He stops my finger tracing his.
“Ah, ah, ah angel, you don’t get to zone out on me now. We agreed you would let me meet Freddie, and you agreed we could talk properly.”
I drop my gaze, and he tips my chin up to face him.
“Talk to me, angel; make me understand. You’re safe now. He’s in prison, J.D can’t hurt you anymore.”
I shudder at the mention of that man’s name and at the memories that haunt my every waking thought. A part of me still doesn’t believe that Sam didn’t tell J.D to do those despicable things to me.
“Believe me, no one wants to fucking kill J.D more than I do, angel; I was so close to ending him when he kidnapped me,” he says through clenched teeth.
“It was you that stopped me. He stabbed me twice and his words were, and I quote, ‘I enjoyed killing Peyton and the little fucking cockroach that was inside of her, I did the world a fucking favour by ending both of their lives. I actually howled with laughter when I stabbed her in the chest, and then I stabbed in the stomach her over and over again just to make sure the little bastard was dead.’ That completely fucking floored me. I was so angry; in fact, anger doesn't even fucking cover it.”
As he quotes those words, I feel all the colour drain from my cheeks. How cold and callous can one person be? Sam is visibly trembling with anger, and his fists are clenched so tight; his knuckles are white.
“I completely lost it, and I fucking saw red. In a pure rush of adrenaline, I wrenched the arms off the chair he had tied me to. The pain didn’t even register, until I saw blood dripping down my wrists. I was so desperate to break free, because I was hell-bent on revenge. I wanted to watch him fucking suffer, the way he made you suffer. I wanted to be the one to end his pathetic, miserable fucking life,” he says with a clenched jaw.
He holds out his wrists, and both of his wrists are still heavily wrapped from the hospital. It is at that moment, where I don’t doubt for a second that Sam is telling the truth, one million per cent. He really was completely oblivious to J.D’s actions.
“I swung for him, and I just kept on hitting him, over and over and over again. He was pleading for me to stop, snivelling and fucking begging me. But I couldn’t stop myself, it was fucking pathetic. I was so close to ending him, but I saw you, so clearly in my mind, telling me to stop and this strange wave of peace washed over me. That’s when I stopped, called the police, and I walked away, leaving him lying in a pool of his own blood.”
My mind is reeling at the information he is telling me. I am struck with a wave of such guilt and shame that I let out a strangled sob. Sam pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing me to the look into his pained green eyes.
“Hey, look at me, I fucking swear to you, angel. I never asked him to kidnap you. We were so happy. I had just asked you to marry me, for fuck’s sake. We were going to start our forever together. You said you would be five minutes, you had to get your bag, but you never came out of Lucas’ house. I got a text from your phone telling me to go without you and that you would meet me there. I was so close to putting the show on hold, just so I could go back for you. I tried calling you, left you messages. I fucking waited for you, but you never came.”
H
is jaw is tight, and I can tell this is as hard for him as it is for me.
“What would I have found if I had gone back for you, angel?”
I close my eyes, and I am instantly transported back to the day my life changed forever.
***
A Year Ago
I’m admiring my engagement ring: a platinum band with a large princess cut diamond that is surrounded by small light purple diamonds. It looks exquisite, expensive yet simple, and understated. I can’t help the ear-splitting grin that spreads across my face. I’m getting married to Sam Newbolt, my gorgeous, handsome rock star. We’re finally going to get our happily ever after. Sam watches me from across the room and chuckles softly.