“What you do and how you do it, ma’am is none of my business,” the officer suggests
“Damn right!” Sylvia hisses, cutting the officer off. “So let’s get a few things straight….”
I don’t even wait to hear what things she is talking about. I bolt quickly from the shadows and run towards the back of the house. The life I knew before is ruined. Tainted. Forever changed. The parents I had, the dreams I was just starting to look forward to, were forever taken from me tonight.
Reaching outside, I try to breathe, try to calm the panic that is rising in my chest. My future? The choice isn’t mine anymore. It’s Edwards. I’ll just be another pawn in his game no matter how hard I try and fight it.
The door behind me opens. I straighten and angrily wipe a few tears from my face. Curious as to who it is, but not curious enough to turn and look, I wait for the intruder to leave. I want to be alone. I need space.
Footsteps sound behind me and I hold my breath. Soon, Edward is at my side and mimics my stance. We stand in silence for a few minutes until his heavy sigh settles on my shoulders.
“You’ll come with us, Son.” He states. It isn’t a question, it’s a demand. I nod my head bitterly.
“Yes, Sir,” I respond. My throat tightens once again and I choke back tears.
“And you’ll do as you’re told. Accept what he left you. What I am giving you. In his memory.”
In his memory? The last words my father told me were to fight and live life with heart.
But I nod again, too defeated by the night’s events to fight for what my father really left me. A reason to keep living. To keep going. To follow your path, no matter where it leads, and know it’ll always bring you back to the people who matter most.
But those people are gone now. As the finality of it all sinks in, Edward’s hand comes to rest on my shoulder. It sits there like another weight, threatening to crush me and all I ever wanted.
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, as I accept a fate that will ultimately ruin me.
“Good boy.”
He turns and leaves me with the threat of an empty promise I’ll eventually have to break, before it breaks me first.
* * *
Frantically, I suck in a deep breath. Heart beating wildly, covered in sweat, I choke on the memory from my nightmare as I struggle to take another breath. Fucking hell, it was just a dream. Glancing to my side, Rochelle smiles in her sleep. God help me, she’s perfect, blameless. Innocent even though I defiled her tonight.
Taking a few deep breaths, I let out a long sigh as my heart settles.
She’s an Angel. A gift from above to replace the ones I lost when I was just ten years old. No child should have to know what it feels like to grow up without their parents. No boy should be forced to fill the shoes of a man. A man he’ll always be prisoner to as he walks through life in his shadow.
I reach out and wrap my arms around my Angel, pulling her close to me. She sighs. Content. Satisfied. I smile knowing I was the one to make her feel that way tonight, and place a tender kiss on her shoulder. If I can’t do everything right, especially by Edward’s standards, I vow to always fight to do everything right for her. For us. It’s a promise I make her as my hands roam down the front of her body. She stirs as my fingers find her sex. My mouth brings her body back to life as I kiss her neck, slip my fingers inside heaven, and begin to rock her world for the third fucking time tonight.
Chapter Fifteen
Hunter
“Don’t take it easy on me, just because I am a girl,” Rochelle says as I pull my hat down low and adjust the glove on my hand.
I look up and watch as she stands at the plate and pushes her delicious ass backward, arching her back forward in a move that makes me think of last night and the many ways I watched her ride me. I momentarily forget my train of thought before she picks up the bat and throws it over her shoulder. Standing tall, she readies herself for my pitch.
“Now, why would you go and say something like that? You know I love it hard and fast.” I wink at her and earn a roll of her gorgeous eyes.
“Right, Casanova,” she laughs. “Just throw the damn ball.”
“Now, I am a catcher, remember. Not a pitcher. Don’t want you to be disappointed when the ball may or may not make it into home plate,” I tease, although we both know good and well that is a lie seeing as half of my damn job is throwing out to the mound from the other direction.
“Stop stalling Hunter, and throw the ball,” she yells.
I toss her a grin, before taking a pitcher’s stance, looking over my right shoulder, winding up, and throwing a perfect strike across home plate. She swings and misses, then adorably stomps her foot with a huff. I shrug, before picking another ball out of the bucket sitting next to me and winding up my arm just the same.
She takes her sexy stance one more time. I pitch the ball. She swings. She misses. This time she lets out a frustrated shout.
