by Lane Hart
“Oh. Wow.”
“When they found her and gave her a funeral, she got the last laugh at my father, leaving everything she had to me in her will. Her attorney had a PI track me down. I thought I was going to get arrested for her murder, that my dad had set me up. Instead, the attorney gave me a big fat check.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cora
* * *
My head is spinning so hard right now that I don’t know which way is up or down.
I followed Silas home from the pool hall to confront him, to yell at him, but of course I wasn’t going to actually kill him.
I think I just wanted him to feel some of that fear I felt the night at Harold Cox’s house when he pointed the gun at me.
But he didn’t kill me, for whatever reason. Maybe he wouldn’t have gone through with it, or his friend stopped him, and he didn’t treat me badly when he lied to me about being a federal agent.
I should’ve known it was too good to be true, to get to live on a beautiful island and open up my own restaurant. Silas didn’t have to do either of those things for me. He spent his own money to give me everything I wanted.
I’m so confused, trying to figure out what to do now. Good or bad, he’s still the father of my baby, regardless of how strongly opposed to that idea he is. I’m not going to terminate the pregnancy, no matter what he says.
I just have to figure out whether or not I’m going to get up and leave after everything Silas has confessed to me. He may be a talented liar; but, for some reason, I believe what he told me about his father. Mostly because I don’t think anyone could make up a story so sad and disturbing. And the woman, Anita, it sounds like he cared for her and maybe even blames himself for her death at his father’s hands.
He thinks his family are all meant to be killers, but I can’t help thinking that if Silas hadn’t endured what he did at eighteen, maybe he wouldn’t have ended up in a motorcycle club or killed the men at Harold Cox’s house that night. There’s goodness in him, I’m certain of that. He could’ve treated me horribly, but he didn’t. He was good to me. Which is why I haven’t given up on him just yet.
If he could just face the demons his father created, maybe he would change his mind about being a father himself.
And I have an idea how he can begin the process of ridding himself of his awful father.
While he’s pulling a black t-shirt on over his head, I tell him, “I think I know a way for you to finally get revenge on your father and turn it into something positive.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks when his head pops through the neck hole.
“He’s on life support with no brain function. The ICU nurse mentioned that they need a family member to sign the paperwork to take him off of it. You could do that and then request that they donate his organs.”
“How do you know all that?” Silas asks.
“Because I went to see him in the hospital. I thought it was you.”
“Oh.”
“I had to lie and tell them I was his wife but that we were separated to get into the ICU.”
“So you lied?” he questions me with a smirk.
“A lie for a good reason.”
“I had good reasons too,” he mutters.
“So? What do you think?”
“It’s a good plan. We should do it,” he says.
“We?” I repeat. “I thought you wanted me to go back to the island.”
“Yeah, that’s right. You should go back.”
Sighing, I say, “Do you want me to come with you to the hospital?”
“Would you?” he asks, sounding so vulnerable that it’s impossible to be mad at him.
“Yes. But then I’m leaving.”
“Deal,” he says, reminding me of the other two times we’ve made deals. The first was when I begged him to stay and we had sex the first time. The second time was when I refused to let him inside me unless he agreed to stay longer. This time, though, no one is getting screwed.
“Come on. We’ll take my bike,” Silas says as he heads out the bedroom door with me following. Outside, he walks over to his flashy yellow and black motorcycle and climbs on while I start toward my rental car.
“You can ride with me on the back of my bike,” he offers.
I shake my head. “That thing isn’t safe during pregnancy. Too risky,” I call back to him over the hood of the car.
“Which is why I definitely think you should do it,” he says before he shoves the big helmet over his head, the one I recognized from Cox’s house as soon as I pulled up to Silas’ place. I shiver at the memory, even though I know he would never hurt me now.
We drive separately to the hospital; and at this time of night, it doesn’t take long at all thanks to the empty streets. Then I’m the one leading the way down the hall to the ICU. When I press the button on the wall to buzz the nurses’ station, someone says over the intercom, “Visiting hours are over. Come back tomorrow at seven a.m.” before it immediately clicks off.
“Shit,” Silas mutters.
“Hold on,” I tell him, holding up a finger when I press the button again.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m here with Mr. Sheppard’s son. He just got into town and would like to see his father before signing the paperwork to donate his organs.”
“Oh. Hold on. Let me check with Mr. Sheppard’s nurse.”
“Thank you,” I say before the intercom is turned off again. When I glance over at Silas, he’s watching me with a confused look on his face. “What?” I ask.
“After all the shit I put you through, why are you being nice to me?” he asks.
“Because you were nice to me,” I respond.
The voice comes back and says, “Come on in,” then the doors buzz. I grab the handle and pull it open, telling Silas, “Bed five.”
“Okay,” he says, going straight to the far room.
“Mr. Sheppard, I’m so sorry about your father,” the nurse says softly when we enter the room.
He doesn’t even look at the man lying in the bed with wires and cords coming out of him.
“Get me whatever paperwork there is to sign to pull the plug and donate as much of his body parts as you can,” Silas tells her.
The nurse looks momentarily startled by his tone and demand before she says, “Don’t you want to speak with the doctors first?”
“Nope.”
“I’ll be right back,” she says as she hurries out of the room.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask quietly while we’re alone.
“Yes. I wish I had the nerve to kill him years ago,” he grumbles. “But I knew he was a practiced killer, and I wasn’t sure I could go through with it. Then, a few weeks ago, I found out that killing someone was easier than I ever expected. It felt almost natural to pull the trigger and end that son of a bitch Harold Cox and the men who supported him. That’s when I knew I could finally confront my father and end him.”
“You are a proficient liar,” I admit. “But sometimes you have a sweet side. I like that side. It almost makes up for when you’re a dick. And, yes, you may be naturally…violent, but I don’t think you’re a heartless killer,” I whisper.
“That’s because you don’t know how good it felt the night I snuck up on him and hit him from behind. He fell right to the ground, but wasn’t unconscious, just stunned,” Silas says, looking out the small, dark window as if he’s reliving the scene in his mind. “I took his gun, then beat him with it. One of the tricks he liked to use on me when I fucked up as a kid. Then, before he went unconscious, I told him that I was finally sending him to hell where he belonged for killing my mother and Anita, no telling who else.”
His mother? Jesus. He didn’t tell me that part earlier.
And for some reason, I reach over and take his hand, giving it a squeeze. The need to comfort him is so strong I can’t resist.
That innocent touch is all it takes for my entire body to light up like
the Fourth of July, missing his hands and mouth on me, even though I shouldn’t want him now that I know the truth.
Silas feels it too. I know because of the jolt of electricity that crackles between us when his thumb rubs the back of my hand soothingly and the way his hooded eyes look down at me. Despite all of his lies, I’m certain that he was never pretending when we were in bed together. That was real between us. No lies. No secrets. Just our connection.
“Here are all the forms we need for you to sign,” the nurse says, interrupting the moment when she comes back with a clipboard and pen, offering it to Silas. “I can give you a minute…”
“No need,” he says, releasing my hand to take the clipboard. Without reading anything, he signs all the paperwork and hands it back to her.
“Are you sure you don’t want a chance to say your goodbyes before we take him to the operating room?” the nurse offers.
“No. Just do it,” Silas grits out. “Take him. Go harvest his organs or whatever.”
“He doesn’t like seeing him suffer,” I lie for him, taking his hand again. “Silas just wants him to finally find some peace.”
“Of course,” the nurse says as she unplugs devices and calls for some aids to help her wheel the man in the bed out of the room.
We stand in the room and watch them hurry out of the ICU. When they’re out of sight, Silas takes a deep breath and says, “Finally rid of that motherfucker.”
“I’m sorry about the horrible things he did to you,” I tell him, placing my lips to his shoulder.
“Fuck him,” he mutters, reaching down to cup the side of my face, rubbing his thumb back and forth over my cheek several times before his mouth lowers to mine.
How can he possibly think he was born to be a killer when he can be so gentle and sweet with me?
“You may not realize it, but there is a lot of good in you,” I tell him against his lips as I rub my palms over his scruffy jaw.
“My good deeds are for pussy and only pussy,” he says, biting my bottom lip before he pulls back with a smirk. Reaching for my waist, he pulls me flush against the front of his hard body.
“Big fat liar.”
“That I am,” he agrees before his lips brush mine. “And even knowing that, you still want me, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do,” I answer truthfully. “I must be crazy.”
“Must be,” Silas says before he kisses me so sweet and deliciously that I forgive him just a little bit more.
And unlike before in his room, I don’t push him away or stop him. In fact, I kiss him back just as hard.
Like all the times before, things between us don’t slowly heat up, they rapidly ignite.
I’m suddenly swept off my feet, and then I’m being slammed into the now closed hospital room door.
My arms wind around his neck as my legs wrap around his waist. Our tongues collide frantically. Rather than a few days apart, it feels like we’re making up for lost years.
I expect Silas to whip out his dick and rip my panties to get inside of me, but instead, he just keeps kissing me and pressing his hard length into my stomach.
“Wh-what are you waiting for?” I ask against his lips.
“You’re going to tell me to stop again,” he says as his tongue licks a path up my neck where his teeth nip at my ear.
“What?”
“Only a matter of time before you come to your senses again.” His lips and tongue are divine, reminding me of how good they feel even lower.
My head lolls to the side, giving him free rein to leave hickeys or beard rash on my neck. He could brand me for all I care as long as he doesn’t stop.
“I need you inside of me. Please!” I beg.
Silas goes still for a moment, before he whispers, “Hearing you say need, not want is even better than the brutal fucking I’m about to give you.”
“Yes!” I moan when he removes one hand from the back of my thigh to undo his jeans. A second later and he’s pushing the crotch of my panties aside with the head of his cock, lining it up at my weeping entrance.
“Say it again,” Silas demands, his dark eyes holding mine hostage as I hold my breath, waiting for him to fill me.
“I need you.” The words barely leave my mouth before I’m gasping at the sudden intrusion, taking every long inch at the same time. A loud moan fills the room before Silas slaps his palm over my mouth to silence me. Then, he slowly and deliberately moves inside of me as my fingers dig into his shoulders, wanting him to go harder, faster. Instead, he’s savoring it again, like our last time on the island.
No. This isn’t going to be our last time!
I whimper against this palm, then squirm as much as I can, contracting my inner muscles around his thickness which makes him move faster in less controlled thrusts, just as I wanted.
Silas
* * *
Dammit. I was trying to make this shit last as long as possible, knowing I have to send Cora on her way afterwards, but the sounds she’s making, the way she’s squeezing the hell out of my cock? I won’t last ten seconds longer.
That’s why I give up trying and just pound into her hard and quick, racing to the finish line because it’s been too long since I’ve been in her tight pussy.
When Cora’s eyes slam closed and her muffled moans get longer, I know she’s close before I even feel the first incredible throbs of her pussy that have me biting on my lip to keep from shouting out in relief when I erupt inside of her. Her orgasm goes on and on, milking me dry and still clenching as the powerful tremors have her shaking all over. Before she finishes, I even feel her nails in my neck and don’t give a shit. It’s well worth watching her face go slack with pleasure.
“So fucking beautiful,” I whisper as her eyelashes flutter a few more times before her body relaxes. Her legs release their grip on my hips, feet dangling a foot off the floor before I lower her to the ground again.
“So good,” Cora gasps when I hold on to her waist to make sure she’s not going to melt down the door into a puddle like she used to frequently after a good hard fuck. Since she’s holding herself up, I finally pull my sated cock out and tuck it into my pants. Even as I’m pulling my zipper up, I notice my hands are damp, more so than usual from her getting it slick with her pussy.
I glance down, and for the second time tonight, I swear I’m hallucinating. It’s been an insane fucking day seeing Cora again, finding out she’s knocked up, and finally making sure my father never takes another breath. That must be why I’m seeing red.
“What’s wrong?” Cora asks. Her palms grab the sides of my face to make me look up at her. I take a step back to break her grip and look down, finding the stains still on my palms.
My hands are trembling when I reach down to lift the skirt of Cora’s dress in concern, my fingerprints staining the fabric before I confirm my suspicion, biting out a curse.
“What?” Cora asks.
Swallowing around the sudden knot in my throat, I tell her, “You’re bleeding, baby.”
The sight of blood has never bothered me before but seeing so much coming from her is making the room spin. Something’s wrong. Very wrong. And it’s probably my fault. I was too rough with her.
“Oh God!” she exclaims when she grabs my hands and sees the crimson stains. Her eyes are wide when they meet mine again. “I’m losing the baby?”
Shit.
Why does she have to look so disappointed? If that’s what is happening, then she should feel relieved. Except, as I search my own head for that same emotion, it’s surprisingly absent.
Now she does start to slide down the door before I scoop her up in my arms, cradling her to my chest. “You’re gonna be okay, baby. I swear,” I say as I jerk the door open and race out of the ICU, down to the emergency room, hoping I’m right.
Cora
* * *
I don’t know why I’m so incredibly sad. It wasn’t like we were trying to get pregnant or I even wanted to make a baby with the man who deceived me for weeks.
But the idea of being a mother was just starting to grow on me. For a few brief seconds, I even thought the baby would give me a reason to actually forgive Silas for everything, to let him off the hook for the sake of the child we were going to have together.
Now that possibility is gone, and I just can’t find any other reason why I should have anything to do with him. He lied to me and hurt me. Now this. It’s his fault I lost the baby. I shouldn’t have slept with him, the lying sack of shit.
I can’t believe I was going to actually forgive him earlier, before…
That had to have been the pregnancy hormones that were wreaking havoc on me. I was weak and vulnerable and so was he. That’s the only reason why I would’ve let a man who has told me nothing but lies kiss me and beg him to get inside of me.
What kind of crazy person does that?
Damn him for trying to use sex as a weapon against me to lower my walls and forgive him.
If I hadn’t given in to him, maybe I wouldn’t have had the miscarriage.
The jerk is still standing in my hospital room, looking far too good in his ratty jeans and black tee, staring at me like…like I don’t know what! He doesn’t care about the baby, so it’s probably just pity keeping him here.
“You should go,” I tell him, the same thing he told me earlier. I grab another handful of tissues from the tray beside my bed to blow my nose. After an hour or more of tears streaming down my face, I think they’ve finally all dried up.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he says softly, slipping his hands in the front of his pockets.
“Look, S…Silas,” I say, calling him by his real name for the very first time. “Silas is your real name, isn’t it?” I grit out through clenched teeth, even though I know it is.
“Yes.”
“Well, Silas, I don’t want you here! I don’t want anything to do with you! This is all your fault!” I screech at him, putting some of the blame on him instead of having to shoulder all of it myself. Grabbing the closest thing I can reach, I pick up a magazine from the bedside tray and throw it at his head. Unfortunately, I miss, and it sinks to the floor in front of his feet. “It’s your fault I got pregnant, and…and it’s your fault I got so upset and confused and slept with you, so it’s also your fault I lost it! Please, just leave me alone!”