His hand came up and curved around my jaw, tipping my head back further, his dipped down and he brushed his mouth against mine.
It seemed I’d been waiting for years to be just like this with Creed.
And having it…
It was divine.
He moved back half an inch and, eyes locked with mine, he whispered, “My Sylvie.”
I smiled and felt warm through and through and not just from the Kentucky sun beating into me.
His hand slid back into my hair, tipped my head forward, he kissed the top of my hair and murmured there, “Let’s take care of Bootsie.”
Then he kissed me, got to his feet taking me with him in his arms and when he was up, he put me on my feet.
Hand in hand, we walked to his truck.
Hand in hand, me and Creed, the way I knew down deep in my heart we were always meant to be.
Finally.
Chapter Fifteen
Give Me That
Present day…
“She’s with Dixon.”
Creed lay there, his sky blue eyes just staring. Not at the bacon sandwich he could smell which was set just out of reach but at Daddy.
He didn’t believe it. He’d lost track of time. He’d been there days, maybe weeks but he didn’t believe. His Sylvie wouldn’t do that. Not in a few days. Not in a few weeks. Not ever.
“She’s with Dixon,” Daddy went on. “Right now. It didn’t take her long with you being gone to realize she’s better than you. She’s a Bissenette. You may have your Daddy’s blood but you’ve got more of Winona in you. I know this. I know it because you’d set your sights on a teenage girl. Fuck with her head. Take her virginity. You’re trash, Tucker Creed. You were trash before that whore shoved you out. You’re trash now. Jason Dixon isn’t trash. Jason will give her everything you can’t, never could, never will. Jason will hand her the moon.”
Creed said not a word. He just lay there, staring.
Daddy got impatient and bent deep, leaning close.
“Promise to let her go, leave, never return, let her have the life she should have and we’ll feed you, we’ll unchain you, get you medical attention for that cut. I’ll give you ten thousand dollars and you can set up somewhere else. Promise to let her go, leave and never come back, never enter her life again, never phone her, never see her and this will be over.”
Creed spoke then.
And he did it to say in a cracked, parched, weak voice, “Never.”
* * * * *
I shot up to sitting in bed, the room dark, Creed’s strong arm along my stomach and I was breathing heavily.
The dream still had me.
I threw the covers aside and started to catapult myself from the bed but Creed’s arm tightened. Instead of jumping one way, I found myself flying the other. I landed in the bed on my back then Creed’s weight was on me.
“It was a dream, baby,” he whispered through the dark. “Just a dream. It’s over.”
It wasn’t a dream. It was real. He told me. He told me all about it. Even the new stuff.
Now I knew everything.