to think about. I just can’t get past the images weighing heavily on my mind; it’s something Clove and I will have to deal with at some point.
“Son of a bitch!” I holler into the nocturnal sky.
I just want her home. Safe. Remember, Turner... you know her. She was trapped. The only way she knew how to claw her way out was to do what she did.
Memories of the first time Clove and I made love invade my thoughts. I was so damn nervous. She was, too. That first time I sunk myself into her, got past her barrier, I was lost. Lost in her. I had never felt anything like it.
I loved her before we had sex; hell, I think I loved her before she finally even agreed to go out with me. Clove has a delicate grace about her, a characteristic aura of beauty and elegance like no other woman I have ever met. There’s not a mean bone in her body. And what a body she has. Long legs, tight ass, and those eyes that look at me like I’m her everything.
I can still smell the sweet smell of her jasmine lotion every time I think about her. My dick aches for her. I can see her now as she lays her head down on our bed, her long hair fanned all around her as she rubs and pinches those ample breasts and spreads her legs wide, her juices pleading with me to lick them up into my mouth.
There is nothing better than the taste of Clove’s pussy. So tangy and yet so sweet. And there is no better feeling in this world than having the woman you love squeeze every drop of come out of you. God, and her mouth. I take a deep breath when I think of that mouth sucking my dick while rolling my balls around, squeezing them with just the right amount of pressure until she has me on the brink of spilling into her mouth. She always knew the exact moment to stop. Then she would slink her sexy body on top of mine and slide me deep into her wet, silky pussy, riding me hard one minute then slow and sensual the next. Damn it. I miss everything about my wife.
“Baby, come back to me. I need you. God, please come back.”
I tip back the last of my beer and sit down in the small chair in my mother’s backyard. Every night I sit here wondering if Clove sees the same stars in the sky as I do. If she is safe, if Trent is taking care of her. That motherfucker is one sick bastard, tainted by the sins of that son of a bitch who should have been a man we both looked up to. Our father.
I shiver at the thought of that man. He was one sick fuck. If anything comes out of this fucked up shit that’s good, it’s the fact that my mom didn’t have to live a minute longer with him. That he left and took Trent with him. Who knows where the hell we would both be if he hadn’t left.
Grabbing the bottle of whiskey by my side, I tip my head back and take a swig, letting the feel of it burn down my throat. I want to forget, or better yet, not think about anything at all, but the memories flood my brain like a tidal wave anyway.
I was lying in my hospital bed, my mom’s sweet but sad voice washing over me as I healed from my injuries.
“Turner, are you sure you want me to tell you all about your father? Haven’t you been through enough?”
My mind was clouded with the cocktail of drugs I was being given, but I was insistent.
“I need to know, Mom. Tell me everything.”
The things she told me about that asshole, what kind of animal he was, made me physically sick. .. He deserved to die; I just wish I would have been the one to do it.
And my brother. I have tried so many times to remember him. You would think I would. Now I’m so fucking glad I don’t.
When he first called my cell not five minutes after I got to my hotel room, I thought it was some kind of sick fucking joke. I almost hung up on the asshole until he said both my mom’s and Clove’s names. I still had my doubts as I jumped in my rental car and went