Chapter 38
Ihaven’t told Everly about Carter. How do you tell your vulnerable seven-year-old her biological dad was a wife-beating coward who cared more about his reputation than fighting to keep parental rights?
Greyson texted saying the mail arrived, so I popped downstairs to grab it and for a quick behind-the-register make-out session. I didn’t want to stop, but a customer came in and the bell over the door made me yelp.
Normally I’d set the mail on the counter to sort through later in the day, but something compelled me to check immediately. An unassuming white envelope towards the bottom of the stack sends me lurching back as if it burned me.
I’ve barely pressed the call button when Greyson answers the phone.
“Everything alright, honey?” is his greeting, considering I saw him minutes ago.
“Yes. But, um, if you have time, could you come upstairs please?” Greyson hollers to an employee to watch the register and seconds later, his heavy boots take two steps at a time up the metal stairs outside.
He doesn’t hang up the call until he has eyes on me. I heat with embarrassment from his assessment making sure I’m not hurt. Several wide paces brings him to me, and my anxiety calms being wrapped in his arms. I clutch the back of his flannel shirt as if he might slip through my fingers.
He gives me a moment to gather myself but waiting to find out what’s going on is ratcheting his anxiety higher by the second. Reluctantly, I pull from his protective embrace and hand him the envelope. His brows furrow before looking from the envelope to me.
“Will you open it with me?” I ask, suddenly insecure I’ve interrupted his workday over a stupid piece of paper. My fears are dashed immediately.
“Of course, honey. I’ll always be here whenever and however you need me.” He takes my hand and leads me to sit on the couch.
Greyson nudges me to take the envelope, but I tuck my arms around my shaking form, so he’ll open it for me. A quick rip and the crinkle of unfolding paper is all the warning I get before one of the best moments of my life.
Greyson says words I’ll never forget. “You’re free, Mia. You never have to worry about him again.”
“Wh-what? It’s done?” That’s impossible, it’s been barely a month since we signed the paperwork.
“It’s finalized, signed and sealed by the judge. As official as official gets.”
“But, how?”
James had extensively discussed the waiting period after filing for divorce, even uncontested, so how could…
Greyson flips through the documents and shaking his head, his shoulders tremoring with laughter.
“Let’s just say it paid off having friends in high places.” He points to the filing date, and it shows early January…but we filed the petition mid-March…
“According to these officially recorded documents, you passed the mandatory waiting period and were granted the divorce with no questions asked because he didn’t contest the agreement or bother to respond whatsoever,” Greyson says with smug satisfaction.
“I’m…divorced?” My lower lip trembles.
“You’re as single as they come, honey. Well, as single as you can be considering you’re engaged to me.” His wink makes me laugh despite my overwhelm.
“And Everly?” I’m too scared to find out but I have to know.
“He’s been erased from Everly’s life, legally and literally. She’s free from him and his fucked-up family,” Greyson assures me.
That’s what dissolves me into tears. My baby, my innocent, ever patient and optimistic child is free from the monster that was no more than a sperm donor.
“Aw, honey. Don’t cry. This is the best news.” Greyson rubs my back gently.
“These are happy tears.” I sob, convincing no one, but he chuckles anyway.
“You know what that means then,” Greyson prompts, eyebrows raised high. I shake my head because I have no idea what the hell this means.
“Check your online banking.” He grabs my discarded phone from the coffee table and sets it squarely in front of me.
I shake my head in disbelief as I enter my username and password and navigate to my accounts.
“HOLY SHIT!” I drop my phone like it’s on fire.
“Goddamn it, if that son of a bitch didn’t send the amount he agreed to, I’ll leave right now to shake it out of him,” Greyson barks with masculine indignation.
I turn the phone so he can see the most recent deposit into my account.
He calms immediately. “That’s what he agreed on. Talk to me, Mia.”
Greyson holds my hand, grounding me with comfort. “I can’t accept that. It’s way too much and it makes me feel dirty, like I’m being paid off for the years I suffered at his hand.”
“No, honey. It’s not nearly enough. And fucking right you’re being compensated for the pain and suffering you endured. You deserve this and so much more,” Greyson insists.
“What if I don’t want his and his family’s dirty money?” My lip curls in disgust.
“Then you donate it to the charity or cause that he’d hate the most.”
I whack Greyson in the chest, chastising him for being ornery. His deep laugh lightens my mood, as does the kiss he places to the back of my hand he caught mid-air.
“You don’t have to decide right away. We’ll do whatever you want, honey.”
“I’ve thought about what I’d like to do, but I never thought he’d actually pay a settlement. I’ll need James’s help drawing up some documents.” My decision solidifies the more I mull it over.
“He’s at your disposal, anything you need.” Greyson moves my hair over my far shoulder and rubs the back of my neck deliciously.
“I want to put 25 percent of it away for our future. You take such incredible care of us, but if I’m able to contribute financially, if only as a safety net, then I’d like to.”
Greyson nods, encouraging for me to continue.
“I want 25 percent to be split in half for each of our daughter’s futures, should they choose to pursue college or a trade, or wish to buy a home. No one looked out for me and Charlie’s futures, and it’s a way I can express how much I love them and any version of themselves they become.”
“That’s incredible, Mia. We can meet with James together to include what I’ve saved for Harper and split that in half as well. Any head start we can give them, we should,” Greyson says, kissing my knuckles.
“I’d like to donate 25 percent to organizations that fight against domestic violence and work to help people who escape and get back on their feet.” I choke back the emotions overtaking me in crashing waves.
“Had I not landed in Swiftwater, I would’ve needed to find a women’s shelter for me and Everly to stay at until I found a job and could afford rent somewhere.”
How differently my life could look had I gotten off that bus one stop sooner, or farther.
“And the last 25 percent?” Greyson’s voice thick with emotion.
“The last 25 percent I want to go to Hope at Lucky Spurs Ranch, and Lucky Spurs Ranch itself. Delilah’s changing lives, helping so many people.
Imagine what she could do with a strong financial backing?
Reid could expand his rehabilitation program, placing horses with loving owners, and for Delilah to rotate in her programs.” This, I’ve never been surer of.
“I’m so proud of you, Mia, honey. I’ll get with James right away so y’all can start discussions,” Greyson offers.
“Thank you.” I lean to steal a kiss. “You need to get back to work, Mister.”
Greyson’s eyes light with playfulness at being told what to do. To prove his free will, he stretches his arms across the back of the couch, kicking his feet out, crossed at the ankles.
“How about instead, we pull the girls from school for the rest of the day and play hooky. We could go eat shitty pizza at the movie theater and watch some animated crap. Or we could hit up The Flying Pig for lunch and take the girls to the bookstore. Hell, we could pack up and take a short day trip to the hot springs,” Greyson muses.
Who is this, and what did he do with the unfeeling, avoidant man who hired me all those months ago?
“I have a better idea.”
Greyson turns toward me, always open to my ideas.
“The kids stay in school, and we spend the next several hours without clothes on.”
I’m still not confident asking for what I want. I can barely suggest an alternate idea for dinner let alone what I want sexually.
Greyson’s eyes darken to the point that mesmerizes me. He stands from the couch and bends to cage me between his knees and arms, dipping his head to run his stubble up my neck and speak filth into my ear.
“Tell me what you want, Mia. You can do better than that.”
Shivers course through me from the heat of his breath and my panties dampen from his dominance.
“I want to spend the day m-making love?” I ask, more than state.
“Try again, Mia.” Greyson nips my earlobe and moves down to kiss my pulse point.
“I want to have sex with you all day.”
He’s seriously turning me on, and he’s barely touched me.
“One more chance before I tell you exactly what’s going to happen,” he growls, one hand uncaging me to massage my breast over my shirt.
I’m torn because I want to please him and use the words I know he’s waiting to hear. But I’m also desperate for him to take complete control of my body.
“I want you to fuck me so many times we can’t walk, and we have to call Cecelia to get the kids from school so we can spend the rest of the day fucking.” My cheeks flame from the dirty talk coming from my mouth.
“Good girl, Mia. I knew you could do it, I knew you had it in you. That sex-kitten you keep locked away wants to come out and play. I love when you feel comfortable enough to tell me what you want.”
Warm syrup coats my consciousnesses when he calls me his good girl. Growing up with no attention, let alone validation or encouragement, and then marrying someone who only insulted and belittled me, has left me a slut for Greyson’s praise.
“I can make all that happen, honey.”
He slowly straightens to his full height, looking down at me from a position of power, but power I freely give and that he takes delicate care of.
“I need to call downstairs to let them know I’m gone for the rest of the day. By the time I’m off the phone, I expect you in our room, waiting on your knees for me in only your panties.”
If my panties don’t melt from how wet I am…
“Now, Mia,” Greyson commands, calm as can be.
“Yes, sir.”