Chapter 17 #2
My cheeks flush and I bite my lip as I look back at him.
I don’t know why talking about having kids, the thing I suggested, makes my heart beat faster when he mentions it now.
It seems like something that I’m not grown up enough to do, and yet, I can’t deny a yearning that I feel deep inside me at the mention of holding a child of ours.
We don’t speak more, but Aeron’s lips are tilted upwards into a smile as we pull up next to several other very expensive-looking cars and trucks, as well as a handful of horse boxes. As soon as we stop, my door is opened, and Knox holds his hand out for me to take.
“Good morning, Little Bird,” he greets, pulling me into his hot body immediately like he couldn’t bear to be apart from me this morning. His clove and motor oil scent is almost overwhelming, along with a fresh sweat smell that has my mouth watering.
“Morning, Daddy” I greet, taking a deep inhale as I wrap my arms around his damp torso and snuggle my face into his neck.
“You like the way I smell, all sweaty, huh, princess?” he asks, his voice amused and husky all at once, and my clit throbs as if we didn’t just have an awesome orgasm on the way over. Greedy bitch.
“Yep,” I reply, popping the P as I nibble his neck and he groans, his arms banding tighter around me.
“Fuck, Little Bird. You’ve been distracting me from the first moment I saw you,” he growls, leaning down to nuzzle my neck. “And I find I don’t fucking care.”
“Good morning, Lark,” a voice rumbles behind Knox, and I pause, going a little rigid in Knox’s arms. I know that deep voice, and the only reason Adam Taylor doesn’t haunt my dreams is because bigger monsters have taken his place.
“It’s okay, Little Bird,” Knox whispers, keeping me close. “He will not hurt you.”
I take a deep, shuddering breath, knowing that he speaks the truth.
When I was first taken into Tailor custody, Adam, Earl, and another couple of Tailors set about trying to break me with torture, whipping my back, pulling out my fingernails, and branding me with their emblem.
Although Adam never touched me with his hands, he ordered it all, as well as ordering my guys to hurt me all in the name of discovering the whereabouts of Soldier HQ.
I was too lost in vengeance when he came to help set us free that night back at Soldier HQ, but now the memories of his men inflicting pain on me try to rush back and drag me under.
My fists tighten against Knox’s back as I bury my face into him, trying to regain the calm I felt when he pulled me from the car.
“I just wanted to talk,” Adam says gently, and taking a final inhale, I pull away from Knox, keeping close to him as we turn to face the leader of the Tailors.
Adam surprises me by being dressed casually in a long-sleeved, navy blue polo shirt, dark-fitted pants, and long, shiny brown riding boots.
“Good morning, Mr. Taylor,” I respond coldly, no hint of the fear that’s making my hands clutched in Knox’s henley tremble.
“Please, call me Adam,” he pleads, his face soft and forehead puckered as he takes a step towards me.
I flinch, Knox’s arm tightening around me as Aeron comes to stand on my other side.
Adam pauses and a flash of what looks like pain crosses his features before he schools them.
“I wanted to apologize for the circumstances we met, Lark.”
“You mean when you ordered to have me whipped, branded, and my fingernails pulled out—they’re growing back now thanks for asking—before locking me in your dungeon?
Those circumstances?” When in doubt, always revert to sass and sarcasm, apparently.
He winces, and Aeron takes the hand not clutching onto Knox for dear life.
Neither boy says anything though, and I appreciate them letting me fight my own battles.
“Yes. I was wrong to hurt you, Lark. My need for revenge blinded me, not letting me see you were a victim in all this. It took my boys to show me that.” The skin around his eyes is creased, his brows dipped low as he faces me, and a frown pulls his lips down, his hands hanging at his sides.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Lark, more than you’ll ever know.
I don’t expect forgiveness, now or ever, but I would like to make amends, in whatever way you deem fit.
And perhaps one day, we could be friends? ”
I take him in, and all I can see is regret in the roundness of his shoulders, his mouth downturned.
Here is a man who allowed his grief to consume him, but he still kept a shred of humanity.
I’ve heard how all the guys talk about him, see how much they look up to him and how he takes care of them as though they are the most important thing in the world to him.
Would I have done any different if our roles were reversed?
I can’t say that I would have. If anything happened to Rook and I knew those responsible, I’d want them to pay dearly for it.
I take in another deep breath, then let go of Knox and Aeron, slowly closing the distance between Adam and I, my heart thudding with each step.
He watches me, the lines of regret deep on his handsome face, but what he doesn’t realize is that I need to move forward, away from my traumatic past, and although I may not be able to tell a complete stranger my darkest moments, I can forgive a man who was in a dark place because of the grief of not only losing a child, but a wife too.
Tentatively, I step closer, his dark brows furrowed as I place my arms around him and rest my cheek on his chest. I can hear how fast his heart is beating, its rapid pace matching that of my own, and the tremble in my arms threatens to overwhelm me.
But I feel like if I don’t do this, forgive him for what he did, then I’ll never move on from my monsters, from all that haunts my dreams.
I feel the moment when his chest hitches, a shuddering breath falling from his lips as his arms band tightly around me.
“W–Welcome to the family, Lark,” he stutters, his voice thick with what sounds like unshed tears. “I couldn’t ask for a better soulmate for my boys.”
I chuckle, the sound a little like a sob as tears rush to my eyes, and I let them fall, soaking into his shirt. He holds me tightly, waiting until my shoulders stop shaking before he pulls back and looks deeply into my eyes.
“Thank you for helping Rook,” I mumble, my cheeks heating now that the moment is passing and I’m still hugging him. I take my arms away, his own leaving me, though one hand comes up to swipe at his eyes.
“It’s the least I can do, Lark,” he tells me, still gazing at me with something akin to wonder and relief on his face. “And I’ll help him and you in whatever way I can. You are family now.”
There’s that word again; family.
Something that I’ve been missing since Mom died, aside from Rook, but regardless, I’ve never had anyone to take care of me. Not until I fell in love with my enemies, that is.
I shiver a little at the chill fall air, wishing suddenly that I bought a coat.
“Come on, Little Bird,” Knox ushers, wrapping an arm around me and turning me to face the new and incredibly beautiful wooden stables, distracting me from the heavy emotions threatening to drown me.
Or perhaps they should be called pony palaces—as I shall now refer to them as—they’re so luxurious.
They’re already whitewashed, and the smell of new wood and fresh paint clings to the air as he leads me to them.
There is still a row of stables with half doors, most of them fully open as various members of the Tailor gang carry in bales of new straw and other bits and pieces.
I see Tarl standing just outside of one, talking to a guy who has the same golden, sandy skin tone and almond-shaped eyes, though the man Tarl talks to looks older and has a face that seems like it rarely smiles. It’s currently set in deep frown lines.
Tarl glances up, spotting me and Knox, then hisses something at the man before striding over to us. I leave Knox and run up to him, throwing my arms around him and ignoring the dull throb in my ribs.
“Did you miss me, Koshgelam?” he teases in that low, sultry voice of his, his arms immediately pulling me close and wrapping me up in a tight hug.
“I always miss you, Jigar Tala,” I reply, nibbling my lips when he goes still underneath me.
My cheeks flush. “Did I say it right? Apparently calling you my golden liver is a thing—” He cuts me off as his lips slam into mine, his tongue demanding entry.
I open to him, moaning deep in my throat as his hands travel down to my ass and pull me closer, aligning our bodies so that his hardness is pressed against my stomach.
He pulls away, both of us gasping as his mismatched eyes home in on me, the look in them fierce and stealing what little breath I have.
“You said it perfectly, Koshgelam,” he praises, his voice breathless as his hands move up to my waist.
“Good, for a moment I thought Google had let me down.” I chuckle, my heart doing a silly flip-flop when he beams back at me. The man who Tarl was speaking to catches my gaze, and a chill makes me shiver. “Who is that guy?”
Tarl peeks behind him, Knox coming up next to us.
“No one, Aziz-e delam,” he dismisses as we all watch the man go over to one of the horse boxes and start talking to someone else who looks to be from that part of the world too. “Just someone who helped to transport the horses for Adam.”
“You okay?” Knox questions Tarl, and I look up as the two guys share a look, one that seems troubled as both their brows dip.
“Yes,” Tarl answers, dismissing the stranger and turning his gaze back to me, a small smile on his face. “Would you like to meet some of the new horses?”
My face splits into a grin then, not letting the strange man trouble me anymore as I nod my head. “I want to help.” Tarl and Knox tsk and my eyes narrow.
“Your ribs are still healing, Koshgelam, you can’t do any heavy lifting,” Tarl tells me, holding up a hand as I go to protest. “But I can show you how to brush the horses down. The quieter ones, while Knox does all the hard work.”
“Fucker, I fractured a rib too, asshole,” Knox huffs, punching Tarl on the arm and Tarl just chuckles.
“Serves you right for having all those silly man muscles,” I tease Knox as Tarl takes one of my hands and we walk towards one stable that has the bottom part of the door shut.
I don’t hear his reply as we stop in front of the stable door and a stunning horse pokes its head out.
My breath stops in my chest as I take in the beautiful creature, its long eyelashes and liquid-looking eyes taking me in just as much.
The thing that really catches my eye is its coloring; the horse is covered in hair that is a beautiful, ruby color that looks like it would glisten and sparkle in the sunlight.
“You like her?” I hear Aeron ask, and I see him come up on my other side, but I only have eyes for the beauty in front of me.
“Her?”
“Yep, she’s a mare, and as soon as Dad showed me a picture of her, I knew she would be perfect for you,” he tells me, going up to the door and reaching out. The mare immediately butts her nose up against his hand, already putty for him. Aren’t we all?
“For me?” I question them, finally looking at him as I take a tentative few steps forward and hold my hand out. She pushes her nose into it, and I gasp a soft laugh at how soft her coat is, just like the finest cashmere.
“She’s all yours, Little Bird,” Knox informs me, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around me as I continue to stroke her muzzle.
“What will you call her?” Tarl inquires from beside us, and I’m amazed that she doesn’t rear back or startle, just stands there and lets us near. Although is it so surprising given my inability to be afraid of these men?
I study her, my head tilted to the side when a name suddenly pops into my head and my lips tilt up further.
“Firebrand. Her name is Firebrand.”