Drowning

24. Drowning

Drowning

twenty-four

K a n e

The sound of happy birds chirping their bullshit right outside the window is the first fucking thing I hear before I'm even fully awake. Never mind them, but the bright sun fucking blinds me the very second I crack my eyelids open, burning the shit out of my irises. To top it all off, the splitting pain spreading inside my head, making my brain thump against my skull, grows worse and worse every time I fucking breathe.

I don't know what or how much I drank last night, but fuck, I have a killer hangover from hell. I'm not in my twenties anymore, but I could still keep up with the kids—not anymore.

Finally pushing through the immense pain, I force my eyes open and sit up, whipping my pillow at the window to scare the fucking birds, just needing them to shut the fuck up.

My body aches, my throat is dry, and I have the worst case of cottonmouth I've ever fucking had. If this is what growing old feels like, I'm fucking over it already.

Groaning in utter fucking agony, I stumble out of bed and make my way to the bathroom across the hall, hoping some water and painkillers will help ease the throbbing in my head. As I splash cold water on my face, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The lines on my face seem deeper, the bags under my eyes are more pronounced, and my silver-streaked hair is more noticeable. I guess this is what they mean by "the morning after hitting harder as you get older," but why the fuck am I just feeling it today for the first time?

What in the ever-living fuck did I do last night?

After brushing my teeth and gulping down some much-needed water, I shuffle to the kitchen to brew a strong pot of coffee. As the aroma fills the room, I realize that maybe I need to start taking it easier, especially when it comes to alcohol.

And maybe invest in some better fucking blinds for the goddamn birds.

Instead of being met by the smooth, clapping ocean waves as soon as I step onto the back porch, angry yelling and thick commotion pierce my fucking ears. I nurse my coffee like it's my fucking lifeline, and curiously make my way down the back steps, seeing everyone gathered near the firepit, freaking the fuck out.

Eli has the phone pressed against his ear, pacing maniacally until his feet dig into the soft, white sand underneath them.

Seven is on the phone too, but working diligently on his laptop with a baffled expression, consuming the features on his face.

Ace is talking to a few other club members, who didn't come with us on this trip, making me nervous about what's actually going on.

Peeking over his shoulder, I see Stone scanning his laptop screen intensely, carefully watching video feed from inside and outside of the bar.

"What the fuck is going on, son?" I ask with a mouthful of steaming hot coffee, noticing the time, and how it's earlier than usual for these fuckers to be up.

"We had a fucking attack at the bar last night," he seethes, and I can feel the anger radiating off of his body as he speaks. "Five of our members were targeted while on routine runs, and a drive-by nabbed a few more—nothing deadly. Destroyed the fucking bar too." He turns to look at me, confusion written all over his face, even though a tiny glint of realization swirls in his hazel eyes.

"What the fuck? Was anything stolen?"

"Yeah, whatever cash and product the guys were carrying, but nothing from inside the bar."

"Shit, any idea who fucking did it?" I ask, feeling the anger beginning to bubble up inside of me.

"Nothing solid. I don't get it," Stone begins, shaking his head as he stands up. "We don't have beef with anyone right now, so it can't be other bikers."

I look around, suddenly realizing that Emerson is nowhere in sight, and panic begins to flood my veins. "Wait, where the fuck is Emerson?"

"In the water. She's having a rough morning too, but I don't think she knows about what happened." He gazes down at the beach, and I follow his line of sight, my eyes landing on Emerson floating in the water on her back, just letting the waves take her out to sea.

"Then why is she having a rough morning?" I take the last gulp of my coffee, noticing the throbbing in my head slowly easing.

"No fucking clue. She wouldn't say shit to any of us; just ran out the damn house like it was on fucking fire." He shrugs, unable to pull his focus off of her.

But I can't seem to either.

I pat my son on the back and walk away in the direction of a frantic Eli, still on the damn phone. When he sees me approaching, he ends the call abruptly and lights another cigarette.

"Stone filled me in. What do you want me to tackle?" I offer my assistance since the club is my baby, but Eli just shakes his head, nervously glancing back at his sister.

"Nah, we're good on that end, but I need you to do something else for me, Kane." His voice drops to a hushed tone, as if he's trying to make sure that nobody hears him.

Following his lead, I whisper back, "okay, name it, E."

Torture flicks in his eyes and a quick frown curls on his lips before he recovers, his lips making a firm, straight line across his face.

"I need you to go down to the water and try to talk to Emerson. I have to know what's bothering her." He runs his hand through his hair, sighing painfully. "I've never seen her this upset before, Kane, and I'm fucking worried."

I nod, giving him a sympathetic smile. "Sure thing, kid."

He flashes a small but grateful smile before pulling out his phone again, obviously ready to get back go what he was doing.

With my eyes fixed on Emerson, still floating in the water, I make my way down to the beach and walk into the bitter cold water without stopping. The water submerges my body all the way up to my chin, by the time I reach Emerson, shivering from the cold with her eyes squeezed shut. I cautiously reach out and graze my fingers along her cheek, getting her to open her eyes.

"What's wrong, Little One?"

She doesn't answer—won't even talk—but quickly gets off her back and swims right into my arms, locking her legs around my waist and looping her arms over my shoulders. I don't protest. I hold her as tight as I can, sensing she just needs the comfort, the safety that I bring her. Silently, she rests her forehead against mine and looks into my eyes. Before I can say or do anything, she crashes her lips down on mine and thrusts her tongue into my mouth, kissing me with an extreme sense of hunger that I've never seen, but I fucking love.

Caving to every craving, every desire I have for her, I kiss her back even rougher, using dominating lashes that have her tongue eagerly dancing around mine. She holds my face in her hands, keeping our mouths fused as the kiss turns ravenous and possessive. I slide my hand around to the back of her neck, squeezing tightly to hold her in place too, shoving my tongue deep down her throat, toying with the back of it.

She moves her hips, grinding against my cock as we float toward the shallow water, and I know right then exactly what she fucking wants.

"Tell me what you want, Little One," I order, pulling away from her mouth.

She just looks at me, heavily panting, trying to catch her breath.

"You want my cock? You want me to fuck you? Then you need to own that shit and fucking tell me." My upper lip curls, but my eyes darken, feeling the need for control taking over.

"I want you to fuck me," she admits, huffing. "I need you to fuck me, Daddy Kane." She bites her lip and flutters her lashes at me, knowing she just poked the fucking bear.

"You need me to fuck you?" I growl teasingly, roughly ripping her bikini bottoms to the side.

I take out my cock and position her over it, lining it up perfectly with her needy little cunt. And then I drive into her with a brutal, deep thrust that has her scratching her nails deeply into my back.

"Tell me why you need me to fuck this pretty little cunt, huh?" I lick the shell of her ear as she bounces up and down, making the water splash roughly around us.

"I just fucking need you, Daddy," she whimpers, craning her neck back as I begin surging my hips forward rapidly, plunging over and over into her cunt.

I can feel her squeezing my cock with a vice grip, desperation in every move she makes. So when she goes to kiss me again, probably to stop all the talking, I kiss her back, exploring every inch of her mouth. Sliding my hand up her back, I tangle it in her wet hair, grabbing a handful and pulling it roughly. She cries out, but the sound slips into my mouth since she refuses to stop kissing.

I relentlessly pound into her, feeling her walls tighten around me as she screams out in ecstasy. Our bodies move in perfect tandem, sharing the same urgency and hunger, seeking release and fulfillment. The pressure builds inside of us, ready to explode. Gasping for air, Emerson breathes out a long, needy moan, looking up at me with her eyes glazed over with a raw, primal need.

"Drown me, Kane," she begs. "Hold me under the water and fuck me until I come."

A little shocked by her request, I raise a brow and smirk, pushing her off of my cock and spinning her around so her back is against my chest. Standing on the bottom of the ocean, the water up to my midriff, I spread Emerson's ass and guide my dick back to her pussy, sliding back in with a full-body thrust. She gasps, leaning forward as I hold her hips and fuck her wildly, holding nothing back.

"You sure this is what you want, Little One?" One more time, I ask her, just to be sure before I push her under the water and hold her there.

"Yes, it's what I fucking want. Now fucking drown me, Daddy."

As soon as the words leave her lips, I push her head underwater, holding firmly at the back of her neck. I slam into her, fucking her needy cunt with deep, vicious strokes. I can feel my orgasm building in my core, and I know Emerson is even closer. As her pussy clenches around me, I drill in deeper and harder, bottoming out inside of her. One final slam, and she's rapidly squeezing my cock, soaking it with her cum as I bust, jetting white ropes deep into her cunt. We come together, trembling from the same frantic sensations, even as she's held under water for longer than usual.

She doesn't fight me for air, which begins to worry me. So as soon as I finish filling her up with my cum, I fist her hair and yank her out of the water, into my arms.

"I needed that, Kane," she whispers against my lips, her voice heavy with desire and shaking with fear.

I press my forehead to hers, feeling her heart thundering in sync with mine. "I know, Little One. I know." I hold her close, cherishing the way she feels in my arms. "Let's get dried off, because, like it or not, you're going to tell me what's bothering you."

She rolls her eyes, but a small smile finally plays on her purple lips, but it doesn't stay for long. Keeping her hand in mine, I lead her out of the water and onto the sand, the sun's burning rays beating down on us.

I can tell she's struggling as we walk toward the house, trying to find the right words to say. I can't tell if she's ashamed, upset, or scared, and that fucking worries the fuck out of me.

"Come on, baby, tell me, please." I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss her knuckles, grateful when she doesn't pull it away.

"Things with Damon are escalating; he's getting worse," she finally admits in a pain-filled voice.

My veins bubble with rage as murder and violence course through them.

"He's filming me, and he's leaving the videos for me to watch."

"That's gonna stop real fucking quick. I'm done playing this motherfucker's game." I promise myself that I'm going to end it, no matter what it fucking takes.

"Kane, it's not that simple. He wants me, and he's not going to fucking stop until I come back." She begins to sniffle, visibly shaking and terrified to her core.

I spin her around to face me, my hands holding onto her shoulders. "What the fuck did he do that has you so fucking spooked?"

She pauses, trying to catch her breath and steady her racing heart before responding. "He filmed me and Seven on the beach last night... together, and he fucking lost it. He filmed the whole thing, then sent it to me, along with a message from him."

"You're not fucking going back," I snap, feeling adrenaline coursing through my veins.

She pulls away from me, clearly upset and torn about what she should do. I chase after her, refusing to give up on something so important.

"Emerson, did you fucking hear me. You're never fucking going back to that bitch."

"I have to, Kane! I don't have a fucking choice!" she screams at me, the tears streaming down her puffy cheeks, making them even puffier.

"You always have a cho–"

"No, not this time, I don't. If I don't go back to Damon, he's going to kill... he's going to kill everyone I love." She chokes on her words as if they're poison and her body is trying to fight them out.

"Who do you think shot up the club and put five of the guys in the hospital? It was Damon, he sent me a video of him doing it. He told me if I didn't come back to him, then he'd start killing y'all and film it... then he'd make me watch the video."

I pull her into a tight hug, securely wrapping my arms around her shivering body as she sobs in the crook of my armpit. I stroke her wet hair, trying to soothe her as best as I can while trying to remain calm about the shit she just blurted out.

"You know there are other ways to handle him without having to go back to him." I bite my tongue as soon as the words leave my lips, knowing I've already pissed her off by bringing it up.

She yanks out of my grasp, wipes her tears, and lifts her chin in defiance, trying to prove that she's got shit handled.

"I'm taking care of it, Kane," she seethes, anger dripping off of her as she balls her fists down by her sides.

And then she walks off, kicking up sand with the heels of her feet. I don't yell her name or chase after her, knowing it'll only push her further away. If she says she can handle it, she'll handle it, and I have to be able to put my trust in her to do so.

Well, fuck. That could've gone better.