Oh, this won’t end well. “You better find a fucking way to defend it, little girl. Scott asked one thing of me.”
She pops up, approaching me fast. “And nowhere in this promise was thrusting your dick inside of me.” She stops for one second and her face is red and she’s sweating. She has herself worked up, but before I can stop her, she has more to say. “Sure, I have some responsibility to share but shit, your cock was inside of me. Can you imagine how guilty I feel? I had sex with my husband’s father and the bottom line is I loved it so much. And want it again.”
Her crude words should have me wanting to take her over my knee but it sends my cock straining against the zipper of my jeans.
“You know, Sarge, your promise has been more than a promise for some fucking time. So don’t use this as a way to keep me in Coral Creek. You and I are fire and ice. One will destroy the other.”
I want to take her, shake some sense into her. “And so what, when fire and ice combine, it makes something we all need, warm water.”
She laughs at me. “What sort of cheesy remark is that?”
I bite back a laugh, because honestly, I can use something to put a smile on my face. “My point, darlin’, fire and ice on its own presents an individual set of problems. One is too hot, one is too cold. Combine them and you have warm water, something pleasurable. Who wants a cold as shit shower or a scalding hot one?” He’s showing me little emotion when he continues, “Bottom line, we’re good together. Horrible on our own.
She turns to sit down and as she does, I see a little smile peek through her lips. “Well, as absurd as it is, there’s truth to it. But the bottom line, they can’t exist cohesively.”
“I came over here for a showdown with you, to challenge you to stay and so far all we’ve really talked about is the right way to take a shower and you using the word cohesive in a very sterile way. Bottom line—you’re not fucking leaving.”
She cocks her head to the side. “I’m not staying, you can talk until you’re blue in the face. What we are together is just plain wrong. There’s no way around it.”
I sit down next to her, pulling her hand into mine. “I wake up every morning with remorse that the one person I’ve loved with the passion I love you, is my late son’s wife. But it doesn’t change this as a fact.”
She closes her eyes. She does this often when she has something to say, yet can’t say it.
“You’re right but we don’t have to act on every emotion.”
I change my tactic. “And you’re taking Scottie from me? You know I want my relationship to be different with her.”
She leans forward—her head in her hands. “I know but I can’t stay. She’s only five hours away not five days. I promise I’ll make sure you see her.”
I don’t wait to fully process her words or how they undo me to my very core. “I don’t care about your promises. You’re running from me. From us. All we can be together.” I’m in front of her before I know it and have her in my space. “You’re doing the same thing Chris did all those years ago. You know that, right?”
She attempts to push me back but even with the adrenaline running through her, I don’t budge. Her hand raises in the air. I’ve been slapped by Holland before. This time I see it coming. I grab her arm in midair. My hand his wrapped around her wrist.
“Yeah, it was a dick thing to say but the truth is still the same.”
She struggles to escape my grasp but I don’t let her go. “You. Did. Not. Just. Say. That.”
And when Holland is mad as fuck, she always inadvertently spits in my face.
I bring her flush with my body. “You. Are. Not. Leaving. Me.”
It’s a split second before her mouth crashes with mine and I take in every aroma and taste of this woman I love. I don’t let up, I explore her mouth as my hand loosens on her wrist and my fingers explore her body. I swing our bodies around, pushing her down on her couch. I don’t break contact, but somehow maneuver her pants down below her hips.
She pulls away first, and I ready myself for her back and forth ways I’ve become accustomed to. But she surprises me when her hands find the hem of my shirt to pull it over my head. She doesn’t waste time pulling at my belt when she begins to unbutton my pants and pushes them down quickly. I pull at her shirt and bra. We don’t say a word but we both know what this is. It’s not gentle, not one bit. I’m fucking her into staying. And I don’t feel remorse for it, not one fucking ounce.
My hand finds its way to the thin fabric separating me from entering her. I rip at them and when I do, she moans and I think she may have said, “Fuck me.” But maybe it’s my own hopeful ears playing a joke on me. Warmth stretches through my body with her tits flush against me. Her pert nipples making contact with my own flesh—erotic and sensual causing my cock to search for her entrance.
She pulls at my head when our lips find one another again. She nips at my lip. The pain of her teeth biting into my skin is nothing, not compared to the fact she may leave me. Pulling back, I stare at her. I’m silently debating what to do but fucking her—that’s a must. Do I push into her tight little pussy? Do I suck her clit making her come then let her come on my cock as I ride her hard?
She pushes me. Is she walking away from me again? “You want this, darlin’, don’t push me away.”
“I don’t intend to. Lay back. I’m taking the lead.”
Pushing back to the other side of the couch, my hands pull her up over me. She doesn’t stop as she maneuvers herself, sitting on my cock. “This time only, darlin’, are you allowed to have this control over me.” My hands are on her full breasts as she rides me up and down. She moves fast but as she does, I grind my hips for deeper access. She’s so tight and with each thrust, I have to will myself not to fill her up.
Her hands are on my bare chest, running her thin fingers up and down over my nipples, down my abdomen and then back around my nipples. Every once in a while, she leans down, slowly and thank fuck, twirling her tongue over my nipples.
My hands rove from her pert tits, down to her clit, pushing hard on her sensitive nub as her groans can most assuredly be heard through the cheap-ass walls of her apartment. I move my hands to her cheeks as she pulls away. We both know what this is. It’s not gentle. It’s not making love, we’re fucking and she wants to keep the emotions at bay. It’s the only way she can walk away. I know her too well, the motives are written in the chocolate brown of her eyes.
“Fuck, darlin’, ride me anytime.”
Her eyes are locked on mine but she remains silent.
Her speed increases and somehow she reaches behind her, squeezing lightly on my balls. “Shit, are you trying to make me lose it now?” However, the sensation is not unwanted. She rolls her head back, the purple ends of her hair finally playing out in reality as they had for so long in my dreams and was the motivation I needed every time I jacked off.
“I’m close, darlin’.” I barely get out, because this erotic mid-afternoon fucking session is all I can think about right now—my ability to speak is hard, as is the rest of my body.
“Yeah, me, too, Sarge.” I hold out for her, as she begins to spasm around my cock. Her orgasms will always come before my own. When her tight little cunt constricts around me, I explode inside of her as her cries along with her body tell me she’s coming at the same time.
But I’m not done, not by a long shot. Her little body is easy to pick up and I move her to my face. I’ve wanted Holland to sit on me like this for so long and I won’t miss this opportunity. My tongue brushes against her very sensitive clit. I don’t miss the loud intake of air and the whimpers she emits with each swipe of my tongue against her.
Her hands are in my hair, as she steadies herself, when my tongue penetrates her cunt. My dick may need a couple minutes to recover, but Holland’s moans and groans make this more intimate and a hell of a lot more erotic. Working one of my hands between my face and her pussy, my finger explores her swollen clit. A fr
enzy overtakes her when she begins to rub her face on me. She’s almost to her peak when a spasm begins and I feast on her release. She stays on me as she rides out her orgasm.
Pulling her down, on my stomach, she rests her forehead on mine.
Closing her eyes, she whispers, “This doesn’t change anything.”
She pulls herself away from me. I’m up and at the door with her declaration, buttoning my pants, no intention of putting my shirt on.
“This is not over, I’m not letting you leave easily.”
I twist around to see her as she lies on the couch, still naked. I want to go back and fuck her again. It’s a temptation I debate over and over.
But when she replies, “Yeah, it’s over, Sarge,” her words wound me. I slam the door as I leave.
Chapter 25
I’m at the see-through glass, struggling for the words to say, and not handling my emotions well. If Scott could see this, what would he say? Shit, what would he have said about her behavior? Would he want us to have mercy on his mother?
The second the door opens, I see her, her almost black hair is matted down and her eyes are void of emotion. The second she sees me, her eyes sparkle. We both grab for the phones on either side of us.
“M, you’re here?” Her words are full of excitement. When we were first married after a long day of work, it’s how she’d greet me when I’d walk in the door.
“Chris,” I say flatly.
Honestly, I don’t know how I feel about her right now. She took ten years off my life but her mental breakdown is so much more. It goes deeper. Do I have empathy for this woman because she gave me Scott and in essence, Scotland? But then I look at Holland and see the fear still etched in every part of her face. Driving the hour to the psychiatric facility to evaluate her mental state gives me time to come up with an answer. Or, you’d think it would at least. But an answer isn’t that easy.
“M, I don’t remember anything. They said I took Scotland from your house. I have no memory of it. You’ve got to believe me.”
Her pleas are so heartfelt. I always thought I had a read on Christine, but I can’t trust myself now.
“You don’t remember me sitting with you on the dock?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I remember being on the tarmac, thinking of all we had and I threw it away. Being with you for a week, I remembered how good we were together. I was coming to beg you for a second chance. But when I drove up, I saw you and Holland—well in a compromising position.” She looks away. “I had a feeling about the two of you but after I saw you kissing her, it was like I blacked out until the next morning.”
What should I believe? Holland told me in no uncertain words, she’d never ask for mercy with Christine’s sentencing, deserving to go to jail, not a hospital.
“You saw us?” I ask but I’m not ashamed. Never will I ever be when it comes to Holland.
“Yeah. What the hell, M? How could you do that? Do you know how disgusting you are?”
I don’t answer her. I won’t. But this gives me pause. “And you expect me to believe you can remember some of this, but not how you set this all in motion to have your phone and rental car in Sacramento, or how you stole Holland’s credit card?”
I don’t believe her, but it doesn’t mean she hasn’t suffered a mental breakdown. I’ve seen what I came to see and I stand, leaving her behind the glass.
I’m leaving in a few days, I don’t have time for this at all. Placing Scottie in the capable hands of Teagan, it was hard to say goodbye to her, especially after the abduction. But, somehow I owe this to Scott. I drive the hour it takes to get to the hospital. I’m not even through the doors when I see the district attorney waiting for me in the lobby like I’d requested.
He’d called me yesterday, asking how far I wanted to push for kidnapping charges. “She’s being evaluated, but your opinion matters. I know she’s been through a lot this last year.”
I almost hung up on him but I owe this to Scott. After all, she loved her son and my husband loved his mom.
“Mrs. Parrish, I’m so sorry about all the hassle.” He’s a pudgy and short man and all I want to do is get back to my baby.
Sitting down in the empty lobby, he skips the rest of the pleasantries. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but they’re going to plead temporary insanity. And though your mother-in-law has been through a lot, so have you. You tell me, how far do you want me to push, because certainly I will?” He pauses as all this sinks in. “I know you wanted to see her. I think this will help make a decision concerning your stance. But just know, I’m in your court, and will follow your wishes.”
I scrape my chair across the floor and stand abruptly. It helps to know he’s on my side. Maguire wants me to take it easy on Christine. And shit, I know Scott would, too, but I’m the mother. I brought this baby into this world and without her, I don’t make sense, not anymore.
I’m escorted to the visitor section with many other waiting family members. Hell, it’s what I am to this woman, part of her family. But, it means nothing after what she’s pulled. I’m directed to a booth where heavy glass will separate us. Good thing. I never saw Christine after they took my baby from her. I think I would have torn off her face, I certainly would have pulled her perfectly manicured nails off of each finger, one by one.
I spot her right away and she has a smile on her face. How is she smiling? She must be certifiably mad to think I want to see her.
Pulling at the phone, I put it to my ear and wait for her to speak first.
“I’m glad you decided to see me, Holland.”
“I’m not sure what you could say to me, Christine, for me to ever forgive what you’ve done.”
I don’t know what’s real and what’s a show from my mother-in-law and I brace myself.
“I don’t remember taking her. I mean, I remember seeing you and Maguire and something must have snapped. Hell, I love your baby so much. I’d never hurt her.”
I remove the phone from my ear, only searching her face without her incessant moaning. She’s not the put-together woman who could manipulate her son with a little smile like she had done when he was alive. I pick the phone back up, ready to continue the conversation.
Christine continues and I brace myself for the anger I’m about to release on her. “I guess after all the loss these past several months, I realized what was important. It was a long shot but I was coming back to ask Maguire to forgive me. And work at being friends, one where I would not be such a bitch.”
I don’t give her any ammunition to build on. I truly only want to see if this woman is really as broken as everyone claims she is.
“I was a mother who would protect her child with all I had. And at the end of the day, he was taken from me. So, I can imagine the pain I put you through. I’m not asking for forgiveness.” She lets a tear fall down her face. “And more so, I know this would have devastated Scott.” She stands as if this conversation is over and picks up the phone one last time. “I love Scotland with all my heart. Please believe me.”
She walks away and I’m left with so many unanswered questions. But at the end of the day, the only thing that matters is—no one wins. Scottie is down yet another grandparent and Christine has lost her right to be the grandma she has always wanted to be.
I exit the visiting section, leading to the lobby. The district attorney is waiting for me. Walking by, I stop briefly. “I won’t be pushing for criminal charges. The most important thing to me is for her to get the help she needs.”
I’m pulling into my parking spot an hour later, eager to get to Scotland. Leaving her today, even with Teagan, had been excruciating. I’m in my own world, prioritizing the many to-do lists in my mind with this upcoming move when a distant but familiar voice calls out for me.
“Holland?”
I twist around so quickly I almost fall over. I’d know this voice anywhere and yet, it can’t be her. With the sun in my eyes, I see two familiar
figures approaching me. They’re older. Hell, it’s been close to four years since I’ve seen them. But there’s no denying the same nose she and I share, or the deep chocolate eyes I inherited from him.
I’m dumbfounded, shocked, and I hold onto my SUV to make sure I don’t fall over. “Mom? Dad? What the fuck are you doing here?” Yeah, I reserve my swear words for these times that warrant it and hell, this is one of them.
“We heard about what happened. What Christine did. We just couldn’t believe it.” It’s my dad who starts this conversation.
I stare. What do I say? Besides, Geez, y’all sure look a hell of a lot older.
My dad reaches his arms to mine. If anyone was a little affectionate, it was my father. He hugged me before I went to bed. It was like he had a one hug maximum and he’d never go over it.
I lift my hands, warding him off. “So, you find out your granddaughter is kidnapped and you think you’re going to waltz into her life and mine, as if none of this happened? I delivered her in my apartment. Do you know how scared I was? I lost my husband at twenty-one. I had nowhere to go, yet Scott knew I couldn’t rely on you. I’ve needed you my whole life. Twenty-two is too fucking late to let you think you get a do-over.”
“We’re sorry.” It’s my dad this time again.
His eyes have become saggy since the last time I’d seen him. He has large bags under them and the wrinkles are more pronounced. Even though he’s aged, it makes him look distinguished. My mother, on the other hand, has not fared as well. Her hair has completely grayed from the dark brown it had been. She’s gained on the upside of eighty pounds by a rough guesstimate.
I stand thinking there’s more—especially since my mother has barely said a word. This is the reason they got on a plane to the other side of the country to say a lame-ass I’m sorry?
“Really, this is all I get?” In my sarcasm, my pitch raises several decibels.
My mother stands closer to me but the proximity makes anxiety overtake my body and I back up.
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