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Skater

Page 20

by Samantha Whiskey


  “It looks like you’re high as a kite in my apartment with two assholes who definitely don't’ belong here!” I snapped.

  “Hey, dude. Who are you calling asshole, asshole?” One guy stumbled to his feet, the second one following shortly after.

  Jess laughed at his repetition.

  “Leave,” Porter said, stepping forward.

  I was tall, built, even, but Porter was a fucking brick house. They didn’t call him a bruiser for no reason.

  The guys shot a look at Jessica and scrambled out, leaving us in the bedroom.

  “Really? Guys, come on!” Jess called after them.

  “What happened to Joe?” I asked, all my hopes of her at least staying sober while she was with him shattering in an instant.

  “He left me! Happy now?”

  “Did you seriously just fucking ask me that?” I was seeing red.

  The front door slammed, the sound of Jessica’s junkie friends bolting.

  “Now look what you’ve done!” She furiously began to throw things into her bag.

  “What? Scared off the guys you abandoned your daughter for so you could get high?”

  She stopped, glaring at me. “Nice. Real nice.” She slid her feet into flip-flops and headed for the door.

  “Jess, where are you going?”

  “Not here, apparently. Not that you’re using it. Doorman said you bought some big fancy schmanzy place.” She stumbled into the wall but shook off my hands when I tried to keep her upright.

  “You need to get sober.”

  “You need to leave me the hell alone.”

  Porter shot a look my direction, and I shook my head, giving him permission to let her pass when she reached the door. I wasn’t going to make her a prisoner. She had to make her own choices. It wasn’t like I could drop her at a rehab and force her to get clean.

  She flung the door open and headed toward the elevator.

  “You need to get clean, Jess. Please let me help you,” I pled, standing next to her as she punched the down button. “You have to. For Hannah.”

  Pain shot across her face for a fleeting second. “You’re ruining my high.”

  Fuck, I hated her like this. She wasn’t her. She was whatever the monster created, and nurtured.

  “Sorry to be a downer,” I quipped back.

  “Fuck this,” she muttered and opened the door to the stairwell. I followed her in and motioned to Porter to take the elevator down.

  “What, now you’re going to follow me down the steps?” She clung to the banister.

  “Yeah, professional athlete, remember? Steps don’t intimidate me. Even five flights of them.” I stayed right behind her step for step as she stumbled and cursed at me.

  Every flight of steps broke my heart a little further. It was one thing to be pissed at her from a distance, to see what her choices had done to Hannah, but it was another to be forced with those repercussions up close.

  My strong, kind, protective sister was in there somewhere, buried under the high and the withdrawals that would come. It would be her decision if she fought her way back to herself.

  She burst through the door into the lobby, startling a few of the residents on their way in. “I swear, if they left me here, I’m going to be so mad at you,” she hurled over her shoulder as she stumbled through the lobby.

  “I don’t care if you’re fucking furious, Jess. I need you to get clean, for Hannah’s sake, at least. Even if it’s just for a few days, I need you to sign papers to protect her.” I threw out the last as she pushed open the main doors, nearly falling onto the sidewalk.

  Porter caught her and she staggered back.

  “You’re one of them, aren’t you? His jock friends?” she spat at him, wiping a strand of stringy, oily hair out of her face.

  “Yep,” he answered, zero emotion on his face. The guy was a rock.

  Eric would have been heartbroken to see her like this.

  “Jess!” I called out as she walked down the sidewalk. “Hannah needs you!”

  “No! She doesn’t! She needs you. She’s always needed you. I just gave her what she needed. It’s been the most decent move I’ve ever made as her mother so stop giving me shit.” She looked at the street corner and started to wave her hands. “Wait! John! Ian!”

  The two junkies got into a cab, shut the door, and sped off into traffic.

  “No!” she shouted, “You ruin everything!” Her toe caught on the sidewalk, and she fell, sprawling on the concrete.

  “Jessica!” I quickly kneeled beside her. “Are you okay?”

  “No! I’m not! Just leave me alone!” She scrambled to her knees and started to shove the spilled contents of her purse back in.

  I grabbed a spoon, tourniquet, and needle that were all in a little bag. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re telling me this shit is more important than Hannah?”

  “This shit is all I have!” she wailed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Now get out of here. Go back to your mansion. Your perfect life.”

  She tripped over her own purse strap.

  “Fuck this,” I muttered, gripping her bag in one hand and tossing my sister over my shoulder with the other.

  “Put me down!” She yelled, slamming her fists into my back. “Leave me alone!”

  There were more than a few looks as we walked down the street to my SUV, but no one stopped us. I was torn between feeling relief that no one questioned me and anger that no one seemed to care that she was shrieking.

  “I need you to listen to me for two damned minutes. If you won’t stay after that, I’ll let you go,” I promised. “You know I will.”

  She stilled on my back, and I opened my passenger door. Then I put her down and tucked her sideways onto the seat. She narrowed her eyes at me and Porter, who was hanging back.

  “I told you I won’t force you to go. But I get two minutes.”

  “And then I get my bag back.”

  Holy. Shit.

  Did she really care more about the drugs than Hannah? Than me? Than everything our lives had been built on?

  “Your losing time, Connor,” she reminded me.

  My jaw locked, but I popped the glove box open and took out the tissue-paper wrapped present Hannah had left on the table on Mother’s Day.

  “Open it,” I ordered her.

  She swallowed and had the sense to be a little nervous, but she opened it. “Hannah,” she whispered, laying her own hand across the pink and purple plaster cast of Hannah’s.

  “Yes. Hannah. She sat at my dining room table for twelve hours waiting for you to show on Mother’s Day.”

  Jess’s eyes flew to mine.

  “Yeah. Twelve hours. She had such faith that you’d show. That you still loved her. And when you didn’t, it broke her in a way that made me hate you. I’ve pulled you out of some shit before, Jess, but this is different.”

  She looked up at me and then back to Hannah’s handprint. “She’s better off with you.”

  “Yeah, she is. I’m not arguing that. But you didn’t sign your rights over, so she’s stuck going through court dates and technically in foster care—”

  “She what?” Jessica screamed. “How could you let that happen?”

  “Chill out!” I yelled back, not caring that we were probably causing a scene. “I have her. She’s safe. I’m her ‘foster parent’ or whatever. And you’re the one that let it happen, so don’t you dare blame me. You have to sign over your parental rights. The courts are getting ready to terminate them, but until I’ve adopted her, she’s in danger. They can pull her from my house at any minute if they think I’m unsuitable. Do you get that?”

  She focused on the handprint. “You’re going to adopt her?”

  “Yeah. It’s the only way to keep her safe.”

  Her fingers traced the indentations in the plaster. “And I won’t get to see her, right? You’ll cut me off like mom. Because I am Mom.”

  A stabbing sensation hit my heart.

  “You get clean, and st

ay clean, and you can see her whenever you want. She’ll never be around you while you’re using. You know that. It’s why you left her with me in the first place.”

  “And if I don’t want to get clean? If I think I’m fine just the way I am?” She met my eyes, blunt, but drugged honesty staring back.

  “Then I’m here to beg you to go to a place where you can at least get clean enough to be declared competent enough to sign your rights over.” My voice softened. She held all the power, and I hated it—Hannah’s life was too important for this.

  “I signed my rights over,” she countered.

  “You sent her with a note that was written like a school excuse. There’s a bit more to it than that.”

  “Just clean enough to sign her over? And then you can adopt her? She’ll be safe?” she asked.

  A trickle of hope slid through my chest. Maybe I was getting through to her.

  “That’s it. And then it’s up to you if you want to get clean, or do...whatever the hell it is you’re doing. Just please don’t take Hannah down with you.”

  She didn’t look up, just kept tracing Hannah’s handprint.

  “I’ll go.”

  The relief that swept over me nearly took me to my knees. She’d be safe. At least for a few days, she’d be safe and cared for, and sober. And she just might stay clean long enough to protect Hannah by signing her over.

  “Thank you.”

  “Hey, how are you?” Ivy asked as I made my way in from the garage. It was after ten p.m., and she was barefoot, wearing just her pajama bottoms and a tank top.

  I didn’t speak until I had her in my arms, her sweet scent filling my lungs, her heart pressed to mine. “I’m okay, now.”

  Her arms wrapped around my back, and she simply hung on to me, simply stood there with me.

  “Thank you for picking Hannah up from preschool,” I whispered.

  “No problem. Did you get Jessica settled?”

  “Yeah. She swears she’ll stay clean long enough for a judge to let her sign over Hannah, but I don’t know. I can’t make her stay there. I can’t make her stop using. I can’t make her do anything.” The loss of control had my head ready to explode.

  “I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”

  “You are doing exactly what I need, just being you,” I told her, resting my chin on the top of her head.

  “Glad to be of service.” She rose up and kissed me, stealing my thoughts one by one with each stroke of her tongue, until she was all I could think about or see.

  “God, you kill me,” I groaned, sinking my fingers into her hair and pulling lightly on the strands.

  “Good,” She answered. “Do something about it.”

  As if she knew exactly what I needed really was her. To have her under my control, her pleasure my responsibility.

  “The mood I’m in…” I warned her. “Are you sure?”

  “I can handle any and all of your moods,” She promised as she gripped my cock through my jeans. “Now, handle me.”

  Hannah was asleep upstairs. If we were quick...and quiet...

  I attacked, kissing her breathless. Our tongues dueled, swept, and caressed until her hands were ripping my shirt over my head and we were forced to separate.

  A few seconds later, I had her naked to all that silky skin, and she unbuttoned my jeans.

  “Get them off,” she ordered.

  I dropped them to the floor, and let my boxers follow shortly after.

  Then I turned her around until her naked ass ground into my erection caressing it between the soft globes. I set kisses to her neck and shoulder, using my teeth at times all while holding her against me with one arm, and exploring her body with my other hand.

  “Mmmm, yes,” she moaned, as I squeezed one breast and the other, plucking and pinching her nipples the way I knew she liked.

  She braced her hands on the counter and pushed back against me, sending a jolt of pleasure from my dick up my spine.

  “Fuck, you drive me crazy, Ivy. In the best ways.”

  My fingers delved into her wet, slippery core, and I stroked her clit, applying pressure in the exact way I knew she needed to get off.

  “Connor!” She groaned quietly, rocking into my hand. “I need you.”

  I tested her with my fingers, stroking two fingers inside her wet heat. “Perfectly wet,” I murmured against her neck.

  She pushed back again, and I gave her what she wanted, lifting her by her waist and bracing her against the counter. Then I surged into her with one long stroke, surrounding myself with heaven.

  “Ah!” she cried.

  I turned her head and kissed her, swallowing her moans as I pulled her off the counter just to get my arm between the hard surface and her soft skin.

  “I need to fuck you,” I warned her.

  “Yes,” she agreed. “Please.”

  My other fingers worked her clit as I kissed and fucked her, pounding into this incredible woman with sure, long, powerful strokes, letting the pleasure eclipse everything ugly in the day.

  Giving my entire soul over to her and hoping she could wash it clean with her body, and maybe one day...her love.

  Because I loved her more than I loved my own life. My career. Anything.

  “Harder,” she begged.

  I obliged. The sounds of soft moans and slapping skin filled the kitchen as I worked her higher and higher. Her breathing changed, her muscles tensed, and her pussy fluttered around my cock as she came, taking me with her.

  I spilled into her, letting the orgasm drain me dry.

  Letting Ivy soothe every ragged edge.

  We came down slowly, with tender strokes of fingers and lips, until I slipped free of her sweet, perfect body and handed her the clothes we’d strewn everywhere.

  I slipped on my boxers, just in case Hannah woke up as we walked down the hall, and we quickly sneaked our way up to the master bedroom.

  Once we were under the heavy covers, with her body tucked up tight against mine, I let the tension of the day fall away.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?” she asked, kissing my bicep.

  “For being you. I don’t know if I could make it through this without you.” The honesty of the comment startled me, but considering how much I loved her, it was the least of what I could have said.

  I needed to tell her. Soon. Just not the night before I was headed off to Boston.

  “You don’t have to. You have me. I promise.”

  “That’s all I need.”

  And it was. She was. We were.

  Everything.

  Chapter 17

  Ivy

  I jolted awake, panting as I tried to catch my breath.

  The light purple of pre-dawn filled the room, the sound of Connor’s steady breathing at my side. I smoothed my wild hair from my face, wondering what had been chasing me in my dreams to wake me before five a.m.

  Shifting slightly, I glanced at Connor, eyes closed, chiseled muscles loose from sleep. Muscles that had been coiled with tension until he’d finally passed out from exhaustion.

  Yesterday had settled heavy on his chest.

  Hope and hurt and the chaotic reality that was his sister’s condition.

  I’d never been exposed to that world—but Connor had told me about it last night...poured his soul out, painting a picture so vivid it was like I’d been there. Close enough to see the darkness of that world. The shadows that stalked in the corners threatening to consume you if you took one taste. The powerlessness in the addiction, the desperation that smelled of metal and sugar and smoke.

  Connor had seen the world more times than he could remember, and he never lost hope. Even when she’d left her little girl on his doorstep, he kept searching. And finally, he’d found her.

  Hannah still didn’t know.

  And it would remain that way until Connor believed Jessica and her desire for rehabilitation.

  He wouldn’t put Hannah through a false hope, and neither would
I.

  But, I hoped for her sake that Jessica would be true to her word. If there was anything worth living for in her life, it was Hannah. The brilliant burst of life that came from the shadows of her soul.

  Connor shifted, stretching his body as if he could feel me watching him.

  The smooth skin that slid over his corded muscles.

  The single tattoo he had hidden underneath his right arm—a date, Hannah’s birthday.

  The way each muscle seemed connected to the other to construct the most mouthwatering body one could have.

  “Was it a nightmare?” His voice, raspy from sleep, cracked the stillness in the room.

  I lightly scraped my nails against his scalp, his silky hair sliding around my fingers. “No,” I whispered. “It happened.”

  Slowly, he opened his eyes, and in an instant, his arms crushed me against him. “Thank you,” he said, his breath warm against my bare neck as he buried his face in it.

  “For what?” I hold him to me, wishing I could do more than the simple physical action. Wishing I could make Jessica see just how lucky she was to have the family she did.

  “For being here,” he said, rolling to his back, tucking me against his chest. “I’m not sure I would’ve been able to get through yesterday and last night, without you.”

  “You’re stronger than you think.” I traced the lines of his muscles as I tilted my head up to look at him. “You’ve endured this for years—”

  “Alone,” he cut me off. “Eric and Lukas were always there. Offering to help, and in their way they did. But I’ve never let anyone close enough to really see what was happening. Not like you have. I’ve never let anyone all the way in.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged underneath me, and I continued to run my fingertips over his skin, up and down, smooth sweeping strokes that raised chills. Silently, I waited, giving him the choice to keep talking or change the subject. I know how hard it was for him to lay himself bare for me, and I wouldn’t push.

  “Guess I was afraid whoever I showed would think I’d turn out the same. That it would scare them away.”

  I shook my head against his chest. “You are good, Connor. A good man who has had an impossible responsibility in caring for a sister with such an affliction.”

 
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