“I love you, too, Baby Bird. You complete every part of me. You’re my salvation and my temptation.”
“You’re mad at me,” she states.
I let the anger fill me for a second. I don’t think what we’re doing could be called hate fucking, because as mad as I am at her, there’s no hate here. Still, I unleash myself and slam into her with a punishing rhythm. It doesn’t take long before we’re both grunting, and finally, the scream that I’ve longed to hear rips free from her throat.
Her cunt chokes my cock, and I continue to thrust until she’s milked me dry.
I watch my seed slip from her swollen pussy as I pull out of her and put my dick back in my pants.
Slowly, I swipe my fingers through my cum and shove it back into her. She’s still trembling, but I know that with how sensitive pregnancy has made her, I can make her come one more time.
Wren is more compliant after a few orgasms, and I know that she will be much more willing to get in the truck to go home this way.
“It’s too much,” she protests, even as she’s starting to rock herself against my hand.
“You’ll take it and whatever else I want to give you. You’re right, I am mad, because you have forgotten the most important thing. Who do you belong to?”
She doesn’t hesitate to answer me. “You, Daddy.”
I twist my hand so that I can apply pressure to her clit while stroking her walls. “Scream for me one more time.”
Her release gushes against my hand, and her body practically convulses as she comes one more time. She doesn’t try and hide her noises this time.
This time, I am sure she’s given me everything she has, for now at least. There’s no way I’m not going to spend the rest of the night fucking her. Every time the image of her walking away pops into my head, I’m going to want to possess her.
I pull off my shirt and use my undershirt to clean her up. When she’s as decent as she can be again, considering she’s been well fucked in a public alley, I kiss her forehead. “Now, I’m not mad anymore. You can’t leave me.”
I know I sound vulnerable. She’s the only person in the world who brings out a softness in me. It’s a side of myself I thought was destroyed by life until our lives collided. Losing her and the way she makes me feel would destroy me.
Sometimes I feel like this life I have with her is on borrowed time. I don’t know if there are too many misdeeds stacked against us. Maybe that’s why I still feel the need to try and fix Liam’s mistakes, because in some ways, I’m afraid I am the reason he’s so broken to begin with.
Chapter Six
Wren - Present
The signs have been therefor the last couple of weeks, but like last time, everyone has been ignoring them. I haven’t seen Claudia’s car in the driveway for at least a week. Natalie hasn’t been over to play with Parker. Sticking our heads in the sand didn’t help him before, and it won’t now either. It’s time we all say out loud what we’re all thinking. Liam is drinking again.
It doesn’t feel like my place to intervene, though. Yes, he’s part of my family. He’s my husband’s son, and that makes him my stepson through some cruel twist of fate, but it’s never going to erase the fact that first he was my husband.
We get along now, at least on the surface. There are moments where I’m genuinely able to put the past behind me, but memories have a way of bubbling to the surface. When it comes to my relationship with Liam, there aren’t many good ones, andeven those are problematic, considering my soul mate turned out to be his father.
I thought time would make parts of our circumstances less uncomfortable. It has and it hasn’t. You can become accustomed to something, but that doesn’t mean it ever feels normal. There seems to be a rise and fall to the interactions between us as well. We’ve managed to become friendly, but I don’t know that he and I can ever be friends. I think there’s too much pain between us to ever really build a bridge to cross all that hurt. We have learned to pretend.
I don’t think it’s just me either. I can tell there are times he doesn’t want to see me. I don’t know what causes that for him because I don’t ask. Our marriage, hell, everything that came before Griffin slipped a ring on my finger, is buried somewhere out in the backyard. Literally, I buried all our pictures, mementos, and even my wedding ring in a box in the backyard of the first house Griffin and I lived in here in Centralia. I didn’t want to keep carrying him with me, and Bess, God bless her, convinced me that I could symbolically put everything behind me.
I won’t tell her this, but it kinda worked. I’m not some kind of woo-woo person who has superstitions for everything; hell, I’m not even religious, but I do believe in the power of your mindset. The actual ritual was more for her than for me. But, when the past starts to push its way back into my present, I remember the physical process of burying that part of my life and shove all the shit Liam brings up back down to the abyss of my memory.
Right now, I can practically feel the rough wooden handle of the shovel in my hands. The mineral-rich smell of the soil fills my nostrils as I let myself relive cutting the blade into the earth. This time it isn’t working, but this time the past has become the present.
I look out the window over my sink as Liam walks a meandering line to his car. I watch him stumble and drop his keys, and realize that my ability to stay the fuck out of this mess is over. I can’t, in good conscience, let him get in the car and drive when I’m fairly certain the only coffee he’s consumed this morning has been of the Irish variety.
I grab my phone and dial Griffin as I run out the back door to try and intercept Liam before he gets in his car. The phone rings and rings. When his voicemail message kicks on, I’m not surprised. I shove the phone in my back pocket because there’s no way he’s going to get here fast enough anyway.
“Liam Andrew Hale!” I shout. “What in the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?”
He starts laughing. It’s a mocking sound I haven’t heard in almost a decade. “You do know you aren’t actually my mother, right? For that matter, you’re not my wife anymore either.”
“At the very least, I’m a friend, and I don’t want to see you wrap your car around a telephone pole. I’m pretty sure your actual wife will agree with me,” I try to reason with him.
