Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
MACKENZIE
“Y ou and I only have one thing to discuss and that is where my daughter and her family are.”
“We’re on the same page then. Except where they are is on a need-to-know basis,” he says, leaning back in his chair.
We’re meeting for lunch, like civil people, over perfect plate settings on white tablecloths. His hulk like frame is out of place here and maybe that’s why I suggested it, to watch him squirm. Instead, all he does is lean back like he belongs, drawing the attention of every woman in this restaurant. Fucking sluts.
“Gabriella wants to meet you.”
My heart seems to pause then pump again. “No. That is out of the question.”
“You genuinely aren’t interested in meeting your daughter?”
I shake my head. “If this is the purpose of this conversation, then I guess we’ve said all we can.” I say, wanting to stand.
He reaches over and places a hand on my thigh to keep me from doing that. “You aren’t going anywhere, Mackenzie.”
CREED
My fingers dig into the flesh of her inner thigh, and she lets out a small yelp. “You’re hurting me.”
“Behave like a fucking child and I’ll treat you like one, Mackenzie. I would love nothing more than to take you to that restroom and spank the bitch out of you.”
I loosen my grip and she seems to calm slightly, but the fire still dances in her eyes.
“Good. So now, you’re gonna let me settle this bill, and we’re gonna take a little drive. Meet Gabriella.”
She shuts her eyes, and the anguish is written all over her face. “What, now? You can’t expect me to just meet my daughter now. Why does she want to meet me?”
“You’re her mother. The woman who gave her life. I think that is all the reason she needs to want to meet you.”
“Creed it is not that simple. I don’t want her mixed up in my life. I have enemies, more than you can imagine, and Gabriella doesn’t need to be put in harm’s way because you’re too much of a selfish dick to admit you’re bad for her.”
“Maybe that’s true, but I don’t want her to wake up one day and think I abandoned her. I had no fucking choice in this.”
Mackenzie shakes her head. “God, you are so fucking pigheaded.”
“I’ll give you anything you want. Just meet her,” I say. I don’t mean to sound so vulnerable. But I mean every word.
“Fine, but then you leave her alone.” She tells me.
I scoff. “Anything else. You don’t get to make those decisions, Mackenzie. Unlike you, I want to be a part of her life.”
“We aren’t good for her. Why can’t you see that?” She says through gritted teeth.
I stand, throwing cash on the table before tugging her up by the arm. “Speak for yourself, demon. Let’s go.”
MACKENZIE
The sun shimmers on her raven head which is bent over a book. My heart thuds in my chest with every step I take forward. I spot her family on a bench nearby. Mia Hernandez looks up and when she sees me, her eyes widen. I know that Gabriella resembles me, her pictures confirm as such. Creed is behind me, his presence overpowering.
“I-I can’t,” I take a step back and he grabs my arm.
“Mackenzie, I swear to God.”
“No, I can’t do this, Creed. I-I’m sorry I can’t.”
Creed’s hand tightens around my wrist.
“You’re scared of an 11-year-old girl?” My head is pounding, and I am seconds away from throwing up.
“No. I just... I am not ready for this.”
He growls, “Fine, have it your way. But you have fucked this up, big time.”
Gabriella looks up and her eyes meet mine as I stumble back. She doesn’t move or stand, just watches me. I turn and rush toward Creed’s car.
I get in the car and slam the door as hard as I can, trying my best not to let the waves of emotion consume me. Then the sobs wrack through me and I can barely catch a breath.
My past has come back to haunt me, and I have no one to blame but myself.
“Unbelievable, you just ran from your own daughter,” Creed spits out, slamming his hand on the steering wheel when he gets in the driver's seat.
“I know, okay! Are you fucking happy now? I ran like a coward, again.” I bury my face in my hands and will my body to stop shaking. “I don’t deserve to meet her.”
“She's just a kid. She doesn't need to know about our lives. To her, you're just the mother she never knew.”
I look up at him through blurry eyes and manage to spit out, “And what? I'm supposed to walk into her life, bring all my baggage along with me, put her in danger, and then leave again? No thanks, Creed. I've done enough damage.”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I never wanted it to be like this either. I just... I just wanted to give her what she asked for. To meet her mother.”
“Well, I am not her mother, Creed!” I retort, wiping away stray tears with the back of my hand. “Mia is, and she is fucking great at it. I would know, I’ve kept tabs on Gabriella her entire life.”
We sit in silence for a while and then he starts the car, driving off. I don’t look back even though it is all I want to do.
We pull up at my apartment complex, and I reach for the door handle. “Mackenzie, wait.”
I turn to him, a defiant frown on my face. “What now?”
“Gabriella deserves to know her past. She deserves the hard truths. She deserves to know that maybe you never abandoned her but did all this to protect her.”
My chest constricts.
“Just think about it, okay? As a kid in the system, trust me, she felt our absence even surrounded by a loving family. We’ll always be those missing puzzle pieces. Don't make it even harder by walking away again.”
Without waiting for a response, I get out of the car and slam the door shut. I stumble into my apartment, pouring myself a glass of whiskey that I down in one go. Memories of Gabriella flood my mind, that first night, holding her in my arms. How can I possibly face her after all these years? The guilt is suffocating, and I down another glass of whiskey to quell the pain.
Then another, and another, until the ache in my chest is numb.
* * *
“So, this your fucking solution then?” Creed’s voice cuts through the heavy air as I step into his old auto workshop swaying slightly, the scent of motor oil and sawdust wrapping around me.
It’s the only thing about him that hasn’t changed. The rest of him—his eyes, his stance, the way he grips the sander against the sleek frame of a ‘67 Shelby Mustang—is different.
Distant.
I followed the tracker I placed on his car here, and now I’m standing in the middle of his past, the past that’s too long gone.
“Go home, Mackenzie,” he mutters, voice rough, his focus never shifting from the car in front of him. He goes back to sanding, as if I’m just a ghost haunting him.
I step closer, unsteady from the alcohol still burning in my veins. “Thought you’d given up an honest day’s work?”
His grip tightens on the sander before he finally tosses it onto the workbench with a loud clatter. He turns to face me, jaw clenched, expression carved from stone. “What the hell are you doing here?”
I smirk, swaying slightly on my feet. “I missed you.”
His laugh is humorless. “You’re drunk.”
“Little bit,” I admit, dragging my fingers along the Mustang’s smooth body. The cool metal is a stark contrast to the fire burning in my chest. “But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s true.”
His eyes flicker with something—frustration, maybe regret—but it vanishes just as quickly. “It’s too fucking late for that.”
I shake my head, my heart hammering in my chest. “No. You just want to believe that because the truth is too fucking painful.”
He exhales sharply, wiping his hands on a rag before throwing it aside. “You think this is easy for me? Loving you was sure easier than hating the sight of you!” His voice is low, dangerous, but I don’t back down. “You have no idea how hard it is to hate you?”
“Then show me.” I demand, stepping closer, toe to toe with him. “Show me just how much you hate me.”
He stares down at me, breathing heavily, his jaw clenched.
I push at his chest, but he barely moves. “You’re a coward.”
His expression darkens, something primal flashing in his eyes. His fingers twitch at his sides like he wants to reach for me, but he doesn’t.
The air between us is electric, a fucking live wire ready to ignite the second either of us dares to touch. Twelve years. Twelve goddamn years since I felt his hands on me, since I tasted the salt on his skin, since I let him wreck me so thoroughly I thought I’d never recover. And yet here I am, standing in front of him, my pulse hammering in my throat, my pussy already throbbing with the memory of how he used to own it.
His eyes—those hazel eyes that haunted my dreams—locked onto mine, and I could see the war raging behind them. Creed wasn’t a man who begged. He wasn’t a man who broke. But right now, he looks like he’s hanging on by a thread, his jaw so tight I can see the muscle ticking, his chest rises and falls like he just ran a fucking marathon.
“Tell me to leave again, Creed,” I dare, my voice a low, sultry purr that I know will cut through him like a knife. “Look me in the eyes and say it.”
His lips part, but no words come out. Instead, he just stares at me with that same fucking intensity that used to make me wet just by existing in the same room as him. His breathing is ragged, his fingers flexing at his sides like he wants to reach for me but can’t bring himself to do it.
“Say it,” I demand again, taking a step closer until I am close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. My palms press against his chest, and Jesus fuck, he is solid—like a goddamn wall of muscle and raw, unrelenting power. His heart pounding beneath my hands, a wild, erratic rhythm that betrays how fucking gone he is for me.
For a long, agonizing moment, he says nothing. Then, in a voice so quiet it almost shatters me, he whispered, “I can’t.”
Those two words are all the invitation I need. I press my body against him, my nipples hardening at the contact. My hands slide up his chest, gripping the back of his neck as I lean in, my lips brushing against his ear.
“Then fuck me,” I breathed, my voice dripping with raw, unfiltered need. “Fuck me like you hate me. Fuck me like you’ve been dreaming about it for twelve goddamn years.”
He doesn’t hesitate. One second I am standing there, and the next, his hands are on my ass, lifting me off the ground like I weigh nothing. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, my core presses against the hard bulge in his jeans that tells me just how fucking much he wants this.
Our mouths collide in a kiss that is anything but gentle. It’s savage, bruising, a fucking battle of tongues and teeth and desperate, hungry moans. Every inch of me is on fire, my pussy clenching around nothing as his cock grinds against me through the fabric of our clothes. He groans into my mouth, the sound low and primal, and I can feel him trembling—not with restraint, but with the sheer fucking force of holding himself back.
“Fuck,” he growls against my lips, his voice rough with arousal. “I’ve missed the taste of you.”
His words sent a jolt of electricity straight to my clit, and I grind against him harder, desperate for the friction only he can give me. His hands grip my ass tighter, his fingers digging into my flesh
I cling to his hair with both hands, tugging at it as if I could rip away the strands of our past and leave him bare and defenseless before me.
Then he drops me onto the hood of the Mustang, and he's already somehow pulling off my jeans while I am distracted by the heat radiating from him as he hovers above me. With practiced efficiency, he yanks away my top and underwear, leaving me exposed and vulnerable under his hungry gaze.
“God, you are even more beautiful than I remember.”
For a moment, it feels like time stops, and I am suspended somewhere between the past and this moment. Hate and Lust. This workshop, the past all fade into the background as Creed's presence envelopes me. This is just sex, I remind myself. I love sex. This means nothing.
I stare into his eyes, searching for something, anything that would give me an indication that the man I used to know is still there. But there is nothing. All I can see in the depths of his gaze is darkness and hunger. Creed leans in closer until our lips brush against each other.
“You ready, demon?”
“Just fuck me already!” I groan.
His hands wander down my body as he pushes my knees open, slamming his cock into me with a guttural groan.
“Fucking hell!” He growls, his hips thrusting forward, his cock stretching me deliciously. His grip tightens around my hips, pushing deeper into me as I try and fail to struggle beneath him.
With a surge of pure, raw desire, I allow the adrenaline coursing through my veins to take over. Creed’s rough grip on my hips only fuels the fire within me.
“Fuck, you feel good inside me,” I moan.
“Better than all those fuckers that came after me?” His low growl sends thrills through me.
“Way, way better,” I admit.
“God, you taste so fucking good,” he growls into my mouth.
His hands on my hips are unyielding, gripping so tightly that there will undoubtedly be marks later. But with every pinch of pain comes a surge of pleasure that has me seeing stars. I rake my fingers through his tousled hair, pulling at the roots to cause him as much agony as I can muster.
The cool surface of the car stings my bare ass.
Creed engulfs my entire being - mind, body and soul. This man with eyes deep pools of murky darkness and lips so deliciously addictive consumes me entirely.
His thick cock plunges in and out of my slick heat, stretching me to my limits. The primal growl that escapes him echoes in the room, vibrating right through me.
His hips piston forward, slamming into me with a force that makes me tremble. Every thrust is brutal, deliberate, carving out a space inside me that only he can fill.
Every time he pulls back, he drives back in again, deeper, and it feels like a jolt of electricity ripping through my body. Each thrust sends delicious vibrations across every nerve ending within me.
His teeth sink into my bottom lip and his name tears itself from my throat in a guttural cry of ecstasy. All coherent thoughts evaporate leaving only raw desire burning between us.
His hand tightens around my throat – not tight enough to cut off air, but enough to remind me who is in control. His mouth crashes down on mine, hot and demanding, his tongue fucking my mouth the way his cock is fucking my pussy. He tastes of sweat and sin, and it’s intoxicating. His other hand dips between my legs, finding my clit with practiced precision. His fingers move in rough, urgent circles, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my already overstimulated body.
And then he whispers... “This is the monster you created, demon.” His voice is full of malice, but it still sends shivers running down my spine.
My hips buck against his hand, desperate for more, and he growls into my mouth, his pace quickening. His cock pistons in and out of me, stretching me to the limit, and I can feel every ridge, every vein as he claims me. The room is filled with the sounds of our coupling—my high, keening cries, his low, guttural grunts, and the wet, squelching sound of my pussy taking him deeper with every thrust.
“Creed…Oh, Fuck!” Moans slip free from my lips; utterly shameful and needy but I don’t give a fuck. It might be wrong... it might be sinful... but damn if it isn't the best fucking sex of my life.
Creed takes control over everything - pain, pleasure and power!
“I have fantasized about fucking this pussy again,” he growls, his voice raw and primal, sending shivers down my spine. “For years, your body has been all I could think about.”
My heart races as his words sink in and I tug him closer by his ass, my nails raking over his skin.
“I haven't thought about you once,” I say through gritted teeth, trying to hide how desperately I want him.
His grip on me tightens, sending sparks of pleasure up my spine. He pushes himself deeper inside of me, a low growl rumbling through his chest.
“Not even once?” Creed whispers, his breath hot against my lips. He cups my jaw, forcing me to look at him. “That isn't true,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead against mine. His fingers dig into my flesh as he thrusts his cock deeper into my wet slit.
Memories from years ago come flooding back to me; moments spent together now tainted by betrayal and broken trust. I swallow hard, trying desperately to stay in control of my emotions.
I'm teetering on the edge of insanity, my orgasm threatening to take me over the edge at any second.
Creed's gaze is unwavering, focused solely on me as he moves his hips back and forth. I'm lost in the feeling of his cock inside me, his hands exploring me, until finally, with one last thrust, I come so hard, I scream out. He follows after, his hot seed filling me.
Creed's chest heaves against me, and we don't speak or move for several moments. Then he carefully withdraws from my body, not even bothering to clean off, before he pulls up his jeans.
We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. His eyes bore into mine, searching for something that I'm not sure he'll ever find. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, a million questions running through my mind. What have I done?
He takes my face in both hands and whispers hoarsely against my lips: “You were never out of my mind. Not ever. And that is why destroying you is going to be that much sweeter.”
I laugh even as my stomach bottoms out, pushing him away, gathering my clothes and what's left of my dignity I dress. His eyes never leave my body. “Bring it on, Creed.”