the first day in my life, I can breathe without thinking this man will be degrading me over my shoulder.
“Ready?” He asks, opening the door wide enough for me to get out.
“Yeah, I’m ready.” With one last glance, I look at what was once my father. Now there lies a body, ripped to shreds in what has to be the most brutal way.
I tore his body apart, literally. Appendage by appendage, limb by limb. It took a while because of how weak I am, but I did it. His last breath was as I tore his spine out of his back. He died paralyzed just as he left me. His spine lay severed in a pool of blood on the ground.
“I have to say, I knew it was going to be brutal, but I didn’t expect this…” He shakes his head and puffs a laugh. “Not when you’re like that.”
I look down, seeing my black pants soaked in red. From my thighs to my ruined shoes, my entire being has been painted in red. My bare arms have gone from pale to blood splattered. I can only imagine what my face looks like.
“I guess I can fuck people up just as much when I’m a cripple.” I lift a brow, and he gestures towards the exit.
“Let’s get out of here. I’ll send the crew down to clean this shit up.”
I nod, gliding out of the room. Before it shuts behind me, I glance over my shoulder, “See you in hell, Dad.”
Then I close the door, locking him and my bad memories away in that room.
For good.
13
Cara
“Come on, Wesley. Be a good boy for Mommy tonight.” I rock him, trying to get him down for the night. It’s an hour earlier than normal, but I’m guessing Jackson’s going to be home anytime, and I really wanted to talk.
Talk about us.
We haven’t really had time to delve into what’s going on between us. It makes it hard when there’s a baby constantly in our faces, getting more active and alert as the days go by. I know having a sexual relationship is going to be more difficult, but we’ve been having these glances between us since that day in the truck, and I want to try more. More of what? I don’t know, but I do know that we need to figure it out because these sneaky glances between us are making me hot and bothered.
I see him glancing at me when I get out of the shower.
I notice him watching me when I wake up in the morning, a yellow heat in his eyes swirling with the green. It makes an intoxicating concoction that I can’t tear my eyes away from.
I want him. I want him so bad. Just because we can’t have sex, doesn’t mean we can’t have other things.
We’ve been in this weird in between, where we kiss each other blandly, tearing away before it gets too heavy. Our touches linger a little longer than necessary, the electricity tingling its way up my fingertips and into my chest.
Then my chest quakes, and I swear his does too by the look in his eyes, but I can never be so sure. Because Jackson is, well, Jackson. And Jackson has the biggest poker face in all the land. I never can tell what he’s thinking, and since he’s gone back to his usual muted self, he hasn’t been one to delve into conversation or feelings.
It makes me feel alone, even lost at times. Lost in his silence and I’m afraid if I make one wrong move I’ll be trapped in this vessel of silence for the rest of time.
When my arm starts aching, I go to shift Wesley when I realize he’s asleep. “Holy shit,” I whisper. I’ve never, in the history of his existence been able to get him down before eight at night. He’s basically nocturnal, so this is fucking amazing.
Slowly as ever, I rock-walk him over to his crib that we’ve started using. I hope that he can at least make it a few hours before waking up to feed.
Every time the floor creaks or groans, I pause in my step and look wide-eyed down at Wesley, expecting him to be staring up at me with his big hazel eyes. Eyes that are a replica of his father’s. But he’s still asleep, his little mouth making a sucking motion like he’s dreaming about eating.
Probably is, actually.
When I get to his bed, I lay him down and cringe when