Thirty-Six
A rriving home was both a pleasure, because we were welcomed back by my brothers like we’d been gone for months, and a terrifying moment, because I was about to find out just how seriously ill I was. Assuming those damn letters weren’t some kind of minor bullshit, like I’m due for some fucking test or vaccinations, they held the answers I’d been hiding from for so long.
Elise wasn’t in the bar or anywhere in sight, but her car was definitely parked outside. We made our way up to the floor I lived on, bumping into Has on the stairs.
“Brother, welcome home.” He dragged me into a hug, but he looked preoccupied, probably having found his naked ass on porn sites again, poor guy.
I threw open my door and found Elise inside, staring out of the window. She brushed a hand over her eyes before she turned to face us, and ran into my arms, hugging me tight.
“Elise, you okay?” She nodded, holding on tight and hugging me a few moments longer.
Camille had hovered in the doorway, and as we broke apart, Elise shoved past me to hug her too.
“Welcome back, sister-in-law!”
“You’ve been crying, are you okay?”
I grabbed Elise again, turning her to face me. Yeah, her fucking face was red, her eyes swollen and teary. Fury surged inside me, and I gripped her arm firmly, staring her down. She didn’t deserve my anger, but I was hanging on by a fucking thread right now.
“What happened? Did someone hurt you? Has one of these fuckers upset you?”
She shook me off, letting out a growl of frustration.
“It’s nothing okay? Can you just check your letters, so we know what’s happening? I’ve been going out of my mind here!”
I took them from her, noting the way my hand trembled as I closed my fingers around them. They were thin. Was that a good sign? They were all sealed, so Elise’s tears weren’t from anything she’d snooped at, but I’d get to the bottom of whatever or whoever had upset her. Mark my fucking words.
“Dammit, Stitch!” Camille slapped my arm, and I nearly dropped the letters.
“Fuck.”
“Sit down, and we’ll sit with you while you read them. Come on, babe. You know you have to open them now.”
I stared at the three envelopes in my hand, and I felt ice running down my spine as I read the details on the outside of them.
“Which one do I start with? Jesus… this one says oncology on it.”
“Start with that one.” Camille took the other two from me, and rested her hand on my knee. “Time to get answers, remember?”
Fuck. I tried to ignore the way my hands shook, as I tucked a finger under the flap, and tore the envelope open. I pulled out the paper inside and unfolded the letter. The top part was my information, personal details, and then the first paragraph. What the…
I handed it to Camille, feeling numb inside, like I wasn’t even inside my body right now.
“Does that say what I think it does?”
She blanched as she took the paper and unfolded it again.
“Oh my god, Stitch. Yes. You’re not dying, you idiot!” She swatted me with the letter, and I took it back from her.
Benign. It was benign. No further treatment. No further surgery. No fucking cancer in me, at least not right now. I read it again, and again. Yep, it definitely said I wasn’t dying. Fucking hell, how long had I been in hell waiting for this letter? The date on the letter told me that I could have had this news a fucking week ago. What the hell did I wait around for?
Camille handed me the other letters, so I passed the first one to Elise, who immediately started reading it, tears streaming down her cheeks again.
Cammy
S titch tore open the second letter, which was some counselling referral letter, which he promptly tossed on the floor, to open the third letter.
The third one made him curse. “Apparently I missed some fucking appointment where they would have told me this shit in person. Also a week ago. Just over, in fact. Jesus… I’ve been in hell when this information was right fucking there.”
I snatched the letter and tossed it on the floor, before I jumped into his lap and started kissing him.
He was fine! Okay, he’d lost a part of himself, and he’d gone through a traumatic experience, but it was over now. He wasn’t going to get sick and die on me like he thought, and we were married. I’d married him and now I’d get to keep him. I couldn’t stop kissing him.
“Ugh… I’m going to get out of here.” We stopped kissing as Elise spoke, turning to see her already walking across the room.
“Wait just a minute.” Stitch eased me out of his lap, and crossed the room, pressing a hand against the door as she tried to open it.
“Stitch, please.”
“Why the fuck would you be leaving now? We just got the best fucking news. I want to party and celebrate, and I want you here. You’re my sister. I want you here.” She stepped into him, throwing her arms around him, and pressing her face against his chest.
“I’ve been so scared, Seth. I thought I was losing you. Thank god you’re okay.” The words were getting more and more muffled and hiccuppy as she cried all over him, so I took the opportunity to go and use the facilities, and take a moment for myself too .
Stitch nearly fell to his death just a day ago, thinking he was on borrowed time already, and he wasn’t. I couldn’t even imagine how we’d have felt if he’d died that day, and we’d returned to these letters. Forget kisses, he needed a smack upside his head for putting off getting the news that would change both of our lives for the fucking better.
I allowed myself a few tears as I absorbed the fact that we’d returned to such great news. That we had a future together after all. Stitch wasn’t going anywhere, and even if he tried, I’d drag him back, kicking and screaming, because he’d called me his, but the truth was that he was mine too, and I wasn’t about to let him go.
“Babe? You okay in there?”
I used the hand towel to blot my tears, and pulled the door open.
“Aw babe, come here.” I sobbed into Stitch’s chest for a few minutes, feeling soothed by the warmth and strength of my man, but then a heavy banging on the door made us pull apart.
“That’s Reacher, I sent him a text to come up. Elise has gone for a walk. She said she needed to clear her head, but she’ll be back.”
Stitch crossed the room and pulled the door open.
“Hey, brother, what’s up?”
Stitch shoved the letter in Reacher’s hands as he reached past him to close the door. Reacher read for a few moments, and let out a heavy sigh, then he reached up and slapped the back of Stitch’s head. Ha! It was like he’d read my mind.
“You dumb fuck. You coulda had this a week ago, dammit. You could have been enjoying your fucking honeymoon.”
Oh god. If he’d known this a week ago, we’d never have happened, would we? He wouldn’t have needed the counselling, and even if he had, he wouldn’t have thought he was living with limited options. Maybe I was just the easy choice, because I was there, and he didn’t have to look for someone.
Suddenly I was wondering if I’d get to keep him after all, because now that he had a whole life ahead of him, was I a real choice, or the only choice?
Stitch caught my arm and dragged me against him, kissing the top of my head.
“Brother, we need to call Church asap.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I have an old lady vote to put to them. Two, in fact.”
I pulled away to glare at him.
“You’ d better mean me, and you’d better not be planning to have two old ladies!”
Stitch rolled his eyes. “Reacher, enough is enough. We’re calling a vote on both of us today, and even if we get a nay or two, apart from those fuckers being on my shitlist, it won’t stop us. No more unanimous votes, remember? Go. Call it now. We’ll start out by telling them they’re stuck with me, and then we’ll call the votes.”
He actually bothered to look at me then.
“This is what you want, right? I’m just fucking desperate to make you mine forever, and being my wife isn’t enough. Not now. I want my name on you. I want your fucking name on me.”
“Jesus… if you two start boning right now, I’m gonna kick your naked ass all the way down to the bar.”
Stitch grinned, cupping my face to keep my eyes on his.
“You wanna be my old lady, babe?”
I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.
“Are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to just make do with me now, you have time to find someone better.”
Stitch slid his hand down to my throat and tightened his grip.
“Reacher, go and call Church, please. I just need a few minutes with my wife.”
Reacher rolled his eyes, and headed for the door.
“Sure, Stitch. I’ll just go do as I’m told, like I’m not the fucking boss.” The door slammed and Stitch started moving, walking me back to the bed. He only let go of my throat when he shoved me and watched me stumble back onto the bed, landing on my back and elbows.
“Dammit, Stitch.”
Stitch
I undid my jeans and freed my cock from my boxers, staring down at my wife, soon to be my old lady for fucking ever.
“Get your pants off, Camille. Guess I need to remind you of how much I fucking want you.”
She shook her head.
“Right fucking now, Camille. I want your fucking pussy now.” She moved up onto her knees on the bed, shaking her head again.
“Use my mouth, Stitch. I want to taste you, and we need to hurry before someone else walks in.” Oh fuck yes. I’ll have that fucking mouth of hers.
“They’ll knock, babe, but yeah, I want that fucking mouth right now. Open wide.”
The second those soft lips parted, I was easing my dick inside her warm wet mouth, and I didn’t hold back. She wanted me to ‘use her mouth’ and suddenly it was all I could think about. This woman. My woman. My fucking wife. Soon to be my old lady.
I never thought I’d find someone I’d want to connect with in that way, but here she was. Just when I’d needed her the most. My strength when I was losing mine. My sanity when I was sure mine was all gone. My fucking life.
She gagged, and I pulled back, but she was shaking her head, pulling me closer with her hands on my ass. She wanted it, she wanted to choke on my cock, and I’d always give her what she wanted. I fucked her mouth ruthlessly, trying to pull back whenever it seemed like she was struggling, but she kept fighting me on it.
She wanted it rough. My lady always wanted it rough, proving how perfect she was for me. Not because I was an animal, but because I’d always enjoyed more vigorous sex, and sex with her was fucking life-affirming.
Camille angled her head, taking me deeper into her throat, and fuck, her swallowing against the tip of my cock had me groaning out and jetting my cum an instant later. Fuck me… the roar of fucking intense pleasure through my body nearly took me down onto the bed with her.
I pulled back, and eased free of her sweet mouth, watching as she ran her tongue over her bottom lip. I pressed her chin, wanting to see my cum on her tongue, and she was more than happy to oblige.
“Fucking hot as hell. How’d I get so fucking lucky, babe?”
I tucked myself away and fastened my jeans, before I sat beside her.
“I didn’t ask properly, and you know consent matters to me. Do you truly want to be my old lady, Camille? This marriage was kinda rushed, because we thought there was a time limit, and maybe both of us thought there was an end date coming soon. Now that we know that’s not the case, I need to hear it. I need to know that you’re definitely in this, and not just trapped by me and my bulldozer fucking behaviour.”
Camille smiled, leaning closer to me, her lips teasing at mine.
“I love you, Stitch. Finding out that I get to keep you is the best damn news I’ve ever had. So the real question is, are you prepared to be stuck with me? I’m not planning on ever letting you get away from me.”
Thank fuck for that. “Good answer, babe. Okay, this is happening. Let me go lay down the law in Church, and then we’ll get my fucking name on your body, where it belongs.”
She pushed up from the bed as I stood up.
“And my name on yours, right? That’s how this works?”
“Fucking right, babe. I’m yours. Uh…” I glanced at the door. “Can you do me a favour, babe?”
“As well as letting you permanently mark my skin?” She giggled, and nodded. “Sure, what?”
I checked the door again, so I wouldn’t get caught asking her this question.
“When Elise gets back, uh… something’s bothering her. I don’t think it’s just this shit with me. I think there’s something else, and I really hope I’m wrong and it wasn’t one of my brothers here doing something to hurt her. Can you see if you can get her to talk? I know I’m asking a lot, because you barely know each other, but maybe that’s easier for her. I don’t know. Jesus. If someone hurt her… I just, I can’t bear the thought of her suffering in silence.”
She nodded, following me to the door.
“I’ll do my best, Stitch. No promises, though. Like you said, we don’t know each other, and if I ask, she’ll probably know you asked me to talk to her.”
Hell. Why were women so fucking complex?