Epilogue
Irish
As I held Coal and Adeline’s little girl in my arms, I looked at my woman, who was smiling as Maisie told her a story about her day at school.
Yes, Maisie was now in school, and since that fucking bitch of a woman hadn’t given a shit about Maisie, she was starting from scratch.
But every night, my woman worked with Maisie, and in no time, she knew all the letters of the alphabet, and she could count to fifty.
Which was why my heart broke for my woman.
We had been trying for months to have a baby together.
And last month, we finally broke down and went to see a doctor.
Sutton was infertile.
And there was no cure or treatment for it.
The doctor had given us options.
From having a surrogate to adopting.
But my woman, who was just as protective of me as I was of her, said, “I will be damned if another woman has any part of my man inside of her. One was fucking enough. And the possibility of other women is more than I could handle. Besides, I’m already a mother. Sure, I didn’t give birth to her. But I’ve been in her life ever since she was five years old. That girl is mine. We don’t need another child.”
Then she looked at me, “Are you okay with that?”
“Made you a promise, baby. Give me all of your hopes and dreams, and I’ll shelter you through any storm.”
“But it’s...” I placed my fingers over her lips.
“Long as I have you, then I’m golden. Went half of my life not having you and realized I wasn’t living. Had you, I really lived. Then I lost you; I don’t ever want to go through that again. So, what I’m trying to say is that I want what you want. And I always fucking will.”
“Do I have you wrapped around my little pinky?” she asked in a teasing tone.
But I wasn’t teasing when I nodded.
Because she did.
With her eyes.
Her cute little button nose.
The freckle on the side of her cheek.
The body she was gifted with.
That incredible brain of hers.
But most of all, it was her heart.
Her heart had ensnared my own. And made me forever hers.
And with the doctor dabbing at the corner of her eyes, we walked out of the office, her hand held tightly in mine, a smile on both of our faces.
We already had one hell of a family.
And it was perfect.
Sutton
Nine Years Later
I looked at Maisie and smiled, “If a man doesn’t cut the balls off of any man that dares to do you harm, then he’s not a man.”
“Ew, Mom, why would you ever say that to me.”
I smiled, “Because your father is that kind of man.”
It took her a moment, and then she gasped, “No. No, he didn’t.”
I shrugged, “I can neither confirm or deny.”
She was silent for a moment until she asked, “Who was it?”
I locked eyes with my gorgeous girl, who had boys panting after her already, and she was only fifteen years old, dropped my tone and said, “The man who ordered me to be raped and then sat there and watched it happen.”
Tears immediately hit her eyes and then fell down her cheeks, “Oh, momma.”
Oh, my soft-hearted girl. I, too, would kill anyone that hardened her heart.
I smiled softly at my girl and said, “You’re old enough now to know about this kind of thing. Your father and I can only shield you so far. So, right now, I want you to promise me something, okay?”
She nodded.
Her eyes shone with tears at what I told her, “I mean it. The man you give your heart to make sure he’s worthy. And if you don’t feel it right down to the tips of your toes, then don’t give your heart to him. You wait. No matter how long that takes. Because our heart is the most precious gift we have to give, and it has to be handled with care.”
She nodded, then stood and wrapped me in her arms, “I love you, Mom.”
I wrapped her in mine and whispered in her hair, “I love you too, pretty girl.”
Later that night, I had just climbed off of Irish after I rode him hard.
But he wasn’t through with me.
Oh no, not my man, I was flipped onto my hands and knees, my face buried in the pillow as he pounded inside of me.
It was so, oh so good, even after all these years later.
He hit that spot just right, I clenched around him and let it all go.
He followed suit not even two minutes later.
After we both cleaned up, I curled into his body, my head went to his chest, but not before my lips pressed a kiss to my name that was on his chest.
Yes, Irish stayed true to his word.
We never saw Cynnamin again.
And I didn’t care.
I know that made me a bad person, but still.
I couldn’t stand the woman.
And yes, he never, and I mean, he never was cold to me, ever again.
If something bothered him, he told me.
And over the past several years, my man was finally able to say that he knew what love was and what it really meant.
Because I had shown him.
But that’s not all I showed him.
See, I had done something for Cruz when I was there.
And he owed me a favor.
He kept his promise.
And I made sure that the piece of shit parents, that were Irish’s, were swept from this planet.
That news was my first wedding anniversary present to my husband.
Irish’s fingers were trailing through my hair when he whispered, “Smooth, baby. So, fucking smooth.”
I lifted my head from his chest and asked, “What are you talking about?”
“What you said to our girl. You were spot on. And I hope I’ve always handled your heart with care after I fucked up like I did.”
I smiled, “You did. Like a smooth whiskey.”
The End.