20. Lincoln
Beccaand I stayed up half the night packing things into boxes, eating straight from the tub of Rocky Road, and catching up. We kept away from the heavy stuff of the past few days.
Instead, she asked me about Lillian and how that was going. I told her about Grace and what Lillian has been up to the past four years. We talked about them staying over this past weekend and if Becca would mind if they stayed some more after she moved home. She looked at me like I was crazy, told me that she loved kids, and can’t wait to meet both of them.
It’s been a long time since she’s had that feeling of family. Even growing up, family time was our favorite nannies watching movies with us and letting us eat popcorn on the couches. Which is why I’m even more excited to introduce her to Lillian and Grace. Having all my girls together, being a family after too long of being apart, it’s all I want.
With all the hubbub, I didn’t end up getting checked into my hotel until almost two in the morning. I couldn’t keep Becca up any later because she’s got school tomorrow—or rather, today. It’s a therapy center, but the long term patients, the kids of the politicians and billionaires, treat it more like a boarding school.
While she’s in class tomorrow, I’m going to the staff and talking to anyone I can about the incident.
It’s almost three in the morning, though, so I’m about to fall asleep when I finally check my phone messages for the first time all night.
Lillian
Let me know when you make it okay.
Did you make it safe?
I’m getting a little worried…but I’m hoping you’ve been having a good time with your sister and aren’t checking your phone, so I’m not calling the cops yet. I might if I don’t get a text by tomorrow, though.
Her messages make me grin. Since being back in my life, she hasn’t told me she loves me again. I’ve only ever heard her say it the one time in my kitchen, four years ago. But the slew of worried messages is telling enough, so I don’t need her to say it. Yet.
Just so she doesn’t call the cops or start calling around to morgues in San Diego, I shoot her a quick goodnight text.
Me
I’m sorry, I did get caught up with Becca. I made it safe, she’s doing okay now, and I’ll call you tomorrow night. Love you.
I know she’ll be asleep already, so I don’t expect a text back. Instead, I switch my phone to silent, shut off the lamp on my bedside table, and go to sleep.
“Are you sure you have to leave?” Becca pouts as I finish packing her last box into my car. It’s a minor miracle how much we were able to fit in there, but it turns out that she’s excellent at Tetris. Getting it out and into my apartment will be a whole other ordeal.
“I do. Dad has been on my ass all week about getting back in the office,” I tell her as I shut the trunk. “But I’ll be back in one week to pick you up. Promise.”
She pulls me in for a hug and concedes. “Fine. Next Thursday. The best birthday present ever.” She steps back and smiles at me.
“That is not your birthday present. I got you something better. Something really cool.” I need to go shopping and get her something really cool for her birthday.
“We both know you haven’t gotten me anything yet,” the brat laughs and opens my driver’s side door. “Now get out of here. Go annoy your girlfriend or something.”
“I’m not annoying,” I mutter as I slide into my car, and she shuts it behind me. Only my sister can bring out the petulant adolescent in me. “Next Thursday.” I point at her as if she’ll forget.
She points right back at me. “Next Thursday,” she confirms. Then I pull out of the parking lot and start the drive home.
The beginning of the week here was awful. I had several meetings with the program director, the clinical supervisor, and the on-staff therapists Monday. They all maintain the story that Nurse Ratched told was true. I tried getting a meeting with her and the two teachers who bruised my sister, but they informed me they were given some paid leave because of the incident.
Convenient.
Basically, I didn’t get anywhere. I tried to ask for the security footage, which they apparently didn’t have. Vince did his own snooping and said the cameras were apparently down for the day in that hall. He did get a shot of Becca being dragged off to the hospital wing, and it reinforced how she got the bruises. They were pulling her feet out from under her as she tried to walk with their fast pace and literally carrying her by the arms.
He looked into the nurse, who apparently has no black marks on her medical license for abuse of power or arrests of any kind. Not even a speeding ticket or any suspicious firing in her career.
I still believe my sister, though. Nothing they say can sway me in that. No lack of evidence will make me believe my sister is capable of violence against someone else. She fucking cried when her friends killed a butterfly when she was eight.
Then, on top of all the lackluster investigating, I was called twenty times by my dad demanding to know why I wasn’t in the office. Apparently, the director called him to make sure we weren’t going to be suing when I showed up Sunday night. So he knew exactly where I was and why I wasn’t in the office, yet still threw a fit.
Not one time did he ask if his daughter was okay or see if he could talk to her. Neither of them tried to call her once this week to check-in. Just another reason to hate the devils who created us.
The rest of the week was decent, though. After my dad realized I wouldn’t be in the office for a few days, he stopped calling, and I did my work remotely from the hotel until Becca was out of class for the day. Then we’d either hang out by the pool and swim, relax in her apartment if she had a bad day, or I’d take her out for dinner and shopping.
Two days this week, though, I did go visit her while she was in school. They had requested I attend a family therapy session and sit in on group with her. Both were okay, but it was easy to see how checked out mentally Becca is of this place already.
She did have fun when we went horseback riding yesterday, though. That is the part I’m most worried about taking her away from. She said she’s gotten really attached to the horses since being here.
Maybe that’s what I can get her for her birthday. A horse. I’ll need to find a stable to keep it, though. The city isn’t exactly conducive to big ranch animals. Then I need to look into getting Becca some options for therapists. Bipolar disorder isn’t something she’s going to grow out of, and I don’t want to pull her life raft out from under her just because she’s moving in with me.
I had asked the administration staff if they gave referrals out, but all of them were in or near San Diego. That’s a little too far for a weekly session. I did also confirm her move-out date with them. The staff seemed nervous and tried to confirm it with Lucifer and Lilith. But I reminded them that Becca was turning eighteen and, as this is technically an at will facility, she is at will to leave on her own the day she’s an adult.
They didn’t ask any more questions after that. So, I’ll be back in exactly seven days. Becca just needs to keep her head down for one more week, and we’re home free.
Nearly six hours of driving later—how was it longer on the way back—and I swing my car into Lillian’s driveway, turning off the engine.
Nerves assault my stomach. I didn’t ask her if I could come over tonight. My plan was to drive straight home, and Flagstaff isn’t exactly on the way to Phoenix. But two hours into the drive and I couldn’t imagine waiting another second to see her. It’s been way too long since I held her. Kissed her. Fucked her.
I didn’t end up leaving San Diego until late afternoon, so it’s almost eleven when I pull into her driveway. The lights in the house are all off, the place dark. All of a sudden, this feels like a stupid, selfish ass idea. Grace is no doubt asleep, probably Lillian, too. So what am I going to do? Go knock on the door and wake them both up?
I sit there in my car battling with myself. I’m almost about to start the car back up and reverse out of her drive to go home, when the light in the kitchen flicks on.
Awake, at least.
Deciding to go with it, I amble out of the car, shutting the door quietly behind me and walk up to her door. She must have heard me pull in because I don’t even make it to the door to knock before she opens it up to let me in.
All it takes is one look at her in my oversized T-shirt that she must have snagged from my closet before leaving last weekend. One look at her hungry perusal of me, and I’m bending down, grabbing her under her ass, and hauling her up to me. Her legs lock automatically around my waist, and my lips meet hers.
It’s so passionate and frenzied that our teeth clash at first. Her fingers grip my hair and pull me closer to her. When I bite her lip a little harder than I mean to and she moans into my mouth, I lose it.
I shuffle us until we make it to her bedroom. Conscious of the sleeping toddler in the next room, I shut the door slowly behind me and walk us toward her bed.
I kneel on the mattress and use one hand to bring us down slowly. My dick is trying to rip through my sweatpants, so I adjust it while sucking and kissing my way from her mouth to her ear to her neck.
Her soft moans have precum dripping out of me, and I rip off my sweats and shirt as quickly as I can. While I’m undressing, Lillian does the same, just as frenzied as I am. Her hair is fanned out on the pillows in a sexy mess. She’s biting her lip as she stares at me and dips her fingers down to play with herself, legs splayed open.
It’s fucking hot as hell. Dick aching for release, I give it a few tugs as I watch Lillian play with herself. It only lasts for a few seconds before I can’t take it anymore.
I swat her hand awake and settle between her thighs before licking her from core to clit. She tastes so sweet, my favorite fucking flavor.
“I missed you so much,” she moans when I insert a finger into her while sucking hard on her clit. I reward her admission with another finger and curl them up. Her hips buck up automatically at the move, and I use my free hand to hold them down.
Kneeling so I have a better angle, I sit up and start to pump my fingers in and out of her as fast as I can. She’s so fucking wet now, my fingers slide in with ease.
“Oh, God,” she whimpers at the sensation and tilts her head back to ride out the pleasure. The movement pushes her tits out, and I stare at them as they bounce back and forth with the motion. She hasn’t even touched me yet, and I feel like I’m ready to explode.
Lil’s legs start to shake. “That’s right, baby,” I grunt, trying not to come myself.
“Please,” she begs.
I don’t even know if she realizes she’s mumbling things, but I don’t stop. Seconds later, wetness soaks my hand as she squirts all over the bed.
I keep pumping her through it, my hand much slower now until her body stops shaking and sags against the bed.
“So fucking hot,” I grunt and use that same hand to coat my dick in her cum. I hover over her, and she opens her legs automatically for me. With one hand, I guide my dick to her entrance and slide in, all the way to the hilt.
She wraps her legs around me and pulls me down for another kiss. Then I grab her hips and lift them up as I pump into her hard and fast. Not wanting slow. Not wanting sweet. After a week of not seeing her and barely talking to her, I’m being greedy.
“Fuck, you feel good. So tight.” It’s my turn to mumble, but she’s beyond caring. Her eyes are glazed over with pleasure and her hand reaches down to rub circles over her clit as I continue my relentless assault, pumping into her over and over again.
This is what heaven feels like. Lil starts to tighten around me impossibly harder, and I grunt, continuing to thrust through it as she comes around my cock. A few seconds later, I feel my balls draw up, and an animalistic noise rips from me as my hips still and I fill her up with my cum.
When my balls are empty and my cum is dripping down her legs in a way that has an intense amount of pride soaring through me, I flop down beside her on the bed.
She snuggles up to my side, throws a leg over mine, and rests a hand on my beating heart. I cover hers with my own. Bright blue eyes peek up at me through dark lashes. “Welcome home,” she coos sweetly and rests her head on my shoulder before falling asleep.
Welcome home, indeed. Fuck me. This kind of love should come with a caution sign because nothing has ever felt so good, so intense. She is my addiction. My home. My everything.