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Blank Canvas Page 23

by Coopmans, Kathy


  She stares at the picture, turning her phone from side to side, politely trying to make out the picture on her belly. I save her from her struggle and point to each piece.

  “This is me, and this is you on a basketball court. We didn’t know it then, but it was the beginning of us falling in love.”

  “Oh, thank God,” she breathes out. “I thought it was a cat being strung up on Halloween.”

  “You little shit.” I scoop her up in my arms, feeling her legs wrap around my middle.

  Her infectious laughter always leaves me in a state of bliss that no one or threat can ever break through again.

  “Do you think we’re going to have a little Saxon or a little Clara?” she asks as I walk us into the kitchen.

  She chose the names. I wasn’t super fond of Saxon at first, but when she explained why, it made perfect sense. The two of them sat down one night in private, having a long conversation. Amelia claimed she didn’t want to know anything, but sometimes thinking what you need and actually having to close the door on old wounds are two different things. They bonded that night, and since then, it’s reminded me how my family used to be before Clara left. We are one tight unit.

  I shrug, setting her down on the counter. “Spread those legs. I’m hungry.”

  “Zeke.” She swats at my chest. “Deep down, what do you think it is?”

  “Well, if you weren’t a stubborn brat, we would know and wouldn’t have to guess.”

  “You know this means so much to me to be surprised.” She wraps her arms around my neck, kissing the tip of my nose. “I can’t even describe the feelings coursing through me.”

  “I know, Bluebird.”

  And that’s exactly why I won’t tell Amelia that in approximately three months, we will be bringing home a little Clara. C’mon, I’m a doctor. I had to peek during her mid-term ultrasound.

  As my tongue starts circling around one of her nipples, I decide right there I’m really not happy to be sharing these. But I will. I’ll do anything for Amelia and our child.

  Bonus Scene Bonus Scene

  Brick

  Motherfuckers are gonna die tonight. Blood will be shed and worn like a fucking gold medal. It’s too late to find redemption for Clara, but in the same sense, it is hers. With Curtis at my side, we creep into the hotel room. It’s a fancy fucker, probably a suite or the most expensive one this hotel has to offer.

  The room is bathed in darkness as will their lives be in a few moments. The sound of rhythmic breathing fills the room. Curtis pulls back the curtain to allow just enough moonlight into the room. Wouldn’t be much fun if we didn’t get to see their faces, now, would it?

  Tap. Tap. Tap. My pointer finger bounces on the bastard’s forehead. His eyes immediately spring open. I’m swifter covering his mouth with my leather-gloved hand while pushing the barrel of my pistol into his temple. It doesn’t stop him from kicking his legs, waking his wife.

  Curtis follows suit, placing a hand over her mouth and his gun to her head.

  “That’s right, motherfucker,” I growl. “Your nightmare is here.”

  Curtis lets out a dark chuckle. “You really do love that line, don’t ya, brother?”

  I’d flip him off, but my hands are a bit full right now. I look back down to the piece of shit trembling.

  “Here we know someone in common, doctor. Going to take my hand off your mouth, and if you make one fucking sound, you’re dead.” I ease my gloved hand off his face but keep the barrel of my gun jammed to his temple.

  “Amelia, ring a bell?” I ask then spit down on him.

  He nods frantically.

  “Talk, fucker.”

  “She-she-she’s my stepdaughter. Haven’t s-s-s-seen her for years.”

  “Interesting.” I flip down the blankets to see the coward has pissed himself. “Any reason why?”

  “N-n-n-o.”

  “Wrong motherfucking answer.” I aim for his dick and shoot. Not a sound is shed besides his cries that I muffle with my hand. The silencer on the end of my barrel making our job a piece of fucking cake. “Try again.”

  “I-I swear.”

  I swing my gun over to her mother, so she has two barrels pointed at her face. “You have any idea?”

  She cries. The bitch sobs and cries when faced with answering questions about her daughter. In my book, this cunt is as much to blame as the stepdad. She let it happen.

  Curtis’ phone begins to ring.

  “Right on time.” I smile down at the soon-to-be-dead assholes.

  Curtis answers and listens for only a moment before flipping his phone onto speaker. Katch ain’t keeping his victim none too quiet. Sent a fellow brother with him, Snake, and he must be having some fun.

  “Thought you’d like to hear from your dear son.” I cross my arms over my chest with my gun resting against my side. “I’m fucking generous like that.”

  Curtis barks out an order, “Anytime, boys.”

  Katch’s voice streams across the line. “Say good-bye, cunt.”

  The unmistakable shattering of a gun fires on the other end, followed by silence.

  I’m ready to play a little longer, but my Prez is in charge. He moves the barrel of his gun to the woman’s temple.

  “On three,” he announces.

  “For Amelia,” I whisper then put my gun right between the fucker’s eyes.

  “One, two, three.”

  Lights out, motherfuckers.

  Acknowledgments

  To the readers…always to the readers. You are the ones who make our words come alive. Thank you.

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