Chapter Eighteen
Mitch
Fuck, my woman was hot, and so damn receptive. I wanted to give her everything and more both in and out of the bedroom. She had my heart, my body…my future if she wanted it.
Not least because Amy never ceased to amaze me, she constantly surprised me.
I’d had to tell her the truth about the shooting. If she was going to love me, she needed to know…me.
And she’d understood, listened, questioned, moved on with that knowledge without judgment or criticism. I’d confessed to the dark depths of my soul, and she was okay with that.
She knew I’d never hurt her, never let anyone else hurt her. Maybe that was why she could tolerate my black shadows. I’d never hurt a woman in my life; it wasn’t how I was wired.
I couldn’t do it. Would never do it.
“You should rest,” she said, coming up behind me and wrapping her slender arms around my waist. She pressed her cheek onto my shoulder blade.
“I’ve had enough of resting, and besides, you’ve cooked every day for…goodness how long, I can manage some pasta.”
“Okay, I won’t complain then.” She poured a glass of white wine. “Want one?”
“I’ll take a beer.”
She took one from the fridge and popped the lid. It rattled across the counter.
I took a slug. The malty taste blissful on my tongue. Everything tasted and smelled and felt better since my brush with death. I guessed that was a normal thing to happen. When you nearly lose something…life…and then get to keep it, you appreciate the small things more.
“Right then.” I turned and topped her wine up to the brim.
“What?” She frowned at me, clearly confused.
“Take a drink.” I pointed to the wine.
She did just that.
“We need to talk about something we’ve been putting off.” I tipped my chin and folded my arms.
She raised her eyebrows and leaned back against the counter. Took another sip of wine.
“You know what I’m talking about,” I said.
“Do I?”
I could tell by the flash in her eyes she did.
“Remember when I had to spank your naughty ass for being a brat and throwing pasta at me?”
She huffed in a breath. “Yes.” She set her wine aside.
“Is that going to happen again when we talk about this subject?” I set down my beer and rubbed my palms together. “Because it can. Quite easily.”
“Er…no.” Her cheeks flushed instantly. A delicate pink that dotted down her neck, too.
“You sure? Because I’m happy to have you over my knee while I redden your bottom. Don’t think I’m not up to it because I well and truly am.”
“I’m sure you are.”
“Okay, good.” I stepped up to her, close. “Your brother, Jeremy.”
“What about him?”
“When I went to The Commune of Light, in police uniform, they thought I was there about him.”
A flash of panic in her eyes. “Why? What’s happened to him?” She shook her head, just a little, a micro expression.
I frowned. “He’s missing.”
“But…I…” She pressed her hand to her chest and stuttered in a breath. “Is he dead?”
“No, I don’t think so, though apparently he’d been having mental health issues since you left.”
“Did Nigel tell you that?” She spat out his name as though it were poison on her tongue. “Did he tell you?”
I tipped my head. Studied her. “Nigel is dead.”
“What?” Her eyes widened. “Dead?” She drew her trembling hand to her mouth. “But…I…when?”
I took her into my arms. Wanting to take away all that the bastard had done to her, give her back the childhood he’d stolen. “He’s gone. Dead and buried. Five years ago. I wanted to tell you that after I’d been to the commune. You don’t have to fear him anymore. He’s gone, burning with the Devil.”
“I…oh my goodness, I just never thought that was a possibility, I mean…he was so…”
“He was mortal. A mere man, and not a very good one at that.”
She blew out a shaky breath. “He can’t hurt anyone now. Brainwash anyone else, demand humbling ceremonies, and…” She gulped. “Or do they still do them?”
I shook my head. “The place has changed, it’s got more of a hippy commune vibe now.
Families live together. The kids have structured homeschooling.
They’re pretty self-sufficient with food.
I mean, from what I gathered, they still think Jesus will be knocking on the gates any day now, but Jamie and I and didn’t see anything to suggest illegal or even immoral activity. ”
Amy stared up at me, searching my eyes in that way she did that meant I couldn’t hide things from her.
“I promise you, if I’d seen one suspect thing I would have set the Yorkshire Police on a raid. And I did contact the local social service to make sure they call in often.”
She nodded slowly. “So Jeremy? Where is he?” She frowned.
“I don’t know. That’s the definition of missing.” I pushed a lock of hair over her ear. “You want me to try and find him?”
“No.” She shook her head, the strand of hair escaping once again. “He won’t want to be found, the way I don’t want to be.”
I thought for a moment. “His mental health went downhill after you left. You not being there affected him a great deal.”
“Maybe he grew a conscience. Realized that he’d been about to let his sister get gang raped in full public viewing and then screw her himself all because Nigel told him to.”
A familiar rush of anger heated a trail up my spine. “That could be the case.”
Her jaw suddenly tensed, and her eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to see him.”
“You told me he helped you escape. He was the only one you could trust that night.”
“That doesn’t make up for what he would have witnessed, done, been an accomplice to, if I hadn’t escaped.”
“Okay.” I could see where she was coming from. “Well, if you change your mind—”
“I won’t.” She turned and snatched up her wine, emptied the glass.
“I’m here for you.” I kissed the crown of her head. “Always remember that.”
She blew out a shaky breath then reached for two bowls. “Is dinner ready?”
“Yeah, I expect so.” I turned and served.
I’d already started the ball rolling with finding Jeremy. Bristol had been a good starting point, and with the police database and access, hopefully something would come up soon.
And then, if she ever changed her mind, I’d have the information for her.
* * * *
Later that evening, my phone pinged. I checked my emails and smiled. Good, my delivery was almost here.
“What is it?” Amy asked.
I stood. “Something is arriving.”
“Oh.”
I tipped her chin with the crook of my finger and kissed her. “Wait here.”
The intercom buzzed, and I went down to the apartment’s front door and took the brown parcel from the driver. “Thanks, mate.”
Once I was back upstairs, Amy had drawn the curtains on the dark sky.
I shut the door. “Come to Daddy.”
She smiled and clasped her hands beneath her chin. “What have you got?”
“A present, for you.”
“For me?” Her eyebrows lifted in surprise.
“I think you deserve it, you’ve been such a good girl.” I set it on the table. “Go ahead, open it.”
She dropped to her knees, folding them beneath her, and opened the box. “There are two things in here.”
“I know. Open them up.” I sat on the sofa opposite, enjoying the delight and anticipation on her face.
“Which one first?” She took out the biggest, wrapped in brown packaging paper. “This one?”
“Sure.”
She pulled it free. “Oh…a journal, it’s lovely.”
I’d chosen a dark-blue leather-bound journal with a picture of an owl on the front. It also had a tiny padlock. “I want you to write down, each day, all of the good things that happen. From big to little. Seeing a robin on the way to work, to having multiple orgasms, all of it. From now on.”
“Oh.” She giggled. “Why?”
“Because it’s important to remember them, to feel gratitude, and to know that you are alive and not just existing.”
“I know that now…with you.”
“And we’re going to build on it.” I gestured to the journal. “And it’s got a lock, it’s for your eyes, no one else, not even me.”
“Are you sure you won’t try and peek?”
I chuckled. “No, I’m not a peeper, you can trust me on that.”
“I do trust you.”
“You should.” I pointed at the other gift. It was much smaller, a tiny box. “Open that one.”
She did just that, revealing a green velvet box. “This is fancy.”
“I hope you like it.”
“I know I will.” She flicked it open and found a gold heart-shaped locket. “Gosh, it’s lovely.”
I moved to her side, took it. “It opens, see, and you can put a tiny photograph in each side of the heart.”
“That’s so nice.” She smiled at me, her eyes sparkling.
“We’ll get a photo of you, and me, and put them in, then when we’re not together you can wear it and know that we are together.”
“I love that.” She suddenly flung her arms around my neck and kissed me, her small delicate body pressing onto mine.
I kissed her back, savoring the taste and feel of her. My presents had been well received, and that filled me with pleasure.
“Can I wear it now?” she asked. “Daddy.”
“Of course you can, baby girl, on one condition.”
“And what’s that?”
“It’s the only thing you wear.”
She twisted her hair around her finger and bit on her bottom lip. “Naked except for my new locket?”
“Yes.” Fuck, my cock twitched in my sweats. It was the excitement in her eyes. That switch to desire and need that happened in an instant and shouted to me that she wanted me.
Was there anything hotter than being wanted?
I didn’t think so.
I needed to get flesh on flesh, fill my hands with her, lose myself in her, lose myself to pleasure and drive her wild with hers.
She stood and looked down at me. “And then what? Once I’m naked apart from my new locket, then what will happen?”
“You’ll soon find out.” I fisted my hand between my shoulders and dragged at my t-shirt up, tearing it over my head. Lust was heating my blood, and my balls tingled as my cock grew harder by the second.
Her attention drifted to my chest, then lower still. Clearly, my erection was visible through my sweats.
I cupped it. “Start stripping or you’ll be over my knee.”
“You do keep threatening that today.”
“Because it’s a very real possibility if you’re a naughty girl, that’s why.”
“I want to be a good girl.”