Chapter 18 Carmen
CARMEN
I knew we’d end up in bed sooner or later.
I predicted later.
But Carter really does know how to utilize his hands and get a woman to fold. Even though that wasn’t his intention.
His breathing is soft in my ear, his arms encased around me in sleep. The sun streaming in through the sheer curtains indicates afternoon. Orange rays land on Carter’s back and turn his skin even more golden.
I tilt my head to get a look at his inked back. I want to trace the outlines of each tattoo with my finger to try and understand their meanings, but I also don’t wanna wake Carter from sleep when he looks this peaceful.
A heavy piece of gray hair flops over his eyes. I comb it away to better see his face, and I feel my smile grow. He’s asleep. He’s not going to see it so it’s all good.
The way he played with Otis earlier totally counteracted his words, when he told me that he hadn’t changed at all. Not even one bit.
I beg to differ. A man doesn’t demand to be a part of your son’s life just for the fun of it. Carter knows the responsibilities that come with raising a child. He also knows the risks.
But he was determined anyway.
He stirs beside me in sleep, tightening his hold on me.
I’m in a mind to call the other two over here. It feels wrong not having them around. Vex, Skipper, and Carter come as a package deal. It was that way from the beginning and it kinda feels like cheating to be intimate with only one of them.
I glimpse the camcorder cast aside on the nightstand. I was never one to get behind a camera in the bedroom and make intense eye contact with the lens with my clothes off. But what can I say? These men untame me.
And maybe it doesn’t have to be so bad.
Tucking my arm safely under Carter’s bicep, I debate if fun can merge with family. Maybe it can, if Vex, Carter, and Skipper care for Otis as much as they seem to care for me. I’d want all three of them to father Otis if I ever decided to introduce them into his life for real.
Carter rouses from sleep and gives me a tight squeeze. “Good morning.” His voice is thick with sleep.
“It’s afternoon. What time zone did you wake up in?”
“The one where I get to be with you. In bed. Naked.”
I giggle, hoping for another moment like this where I can lie in bed in the afternoon and be oblivious to the outside world.
I never knew how much I needed a day like this, buried in a sea of covers in the middle of the afternoon with protective arms bound around me.
Where the only thing to look at in the room is the spinning ceiling fan and Carter’s gorgeous face.
“I should get up. Otis will be waking up from his nap, probably hungry.”
“No need.” Carter places a chaste kiss on my temple and climbs out of bed.
And oh, it’s quite a sight to behold. He could get his ass back into bed if it wasn’t for my son downstairs. I wasn’t finished resting my head on his chest and listening to the gentle rhythm of his heart.
He throws his shirt and pants back on, and opens the door.
I watch him leave and pinch myself. How did I get so damn lucky?
I slip back under the covers like an excited sixteen-year-old who has a reciprocal crush, and release a little squeal. Oh my god. What the hell is going on here? Carter is taking care of my son—our son—and I get to lie in bed and do nothing?
Maybe I could get used to having a second pair of hands around. Especially when those hands make me levitate every time they’re buried between my thighs.
I relax for what feels like the first time in forever, and let Carter take responsibility for a change. Otis is his son after all. If he wants to prove himself worthy, he can do all of the childcare until further notice, so I can have a break.
“Uh. Carmen?” Carter calls from downstairs.
The uncertainty in his voice has me up in seconds, throwing on some clothes and then plummeting down the stairs. “What?” I ask, rushing around the corner to join him in the kitchen.
His back is to me.
He’s gonna turn around and say, “Never mind.”
I’ll be able to head back upstairs and do nothing for another hour. His off tone was just me overthinking things. Excluding Sadie, I’m not used to another person looking after my son. Paranoia is normal.
What’s not normal is the cadence in which Carter just spoke.
He called my name like it was an emergency, and now my heart is thumping like there is one.
“What is it?”
He’s still not turning around.
“Carter?”
Are the O’Neills outside, about to break into my house and burst the perfect bubble I was just starting to get used to living in?
No.
I fear it’s something much worse.
Carter turns around, his eyes a scary shade of blue. “He’s not there.”
“Who’s not there?” I shout, even though I already know what he’s talking about.
Who he’s talking about.
I swing through the double doors and take a look at Otis’s cot.
It’s empty.
“He has to be around somewhere,” I say, exiting the living room to search high and low for my boy.
That I might never get back.
I open the pantry door and search each of the shelves. No. What about between the general waste and recycling trash cans? Otis hid there during a game of hide and seek once.
Nope.
My hopes are crushed each time I check another location and leave it empty-handed.
“Otis!” I shout, running upstairs to check the bathroom.
Nope.
“Otis?” The second call sounds more like a cry.
I trash my own house in search for him.
Oh my god. This isn’t happening.
I always told myself that unicorns were more likely to fall out of the sky than Otis was to disappear. My biggest fear was losing him. To soothe myself at night, I told myself the above. He was never gonna leave my side, because I was simply never gonna allow that.
But I just have.
When I was upstairs having sex with Carter.
My heart enters my stomach. I already feel it being passed on into my intestines, where I’ll later shit it out and flush it down the toilet.
I might as well flush myself down there too. Nothing good happens when I’m around.
My breath catches in my dry throat. I heave and cough, walking my hands all over various walls as I guide myself back to the staircase. The panic has obscured my vision. I no longer know my left from my right, or how to walk normally.
In walking down the stairs, I bang against the two walls and use the painful whacks as guidance to keep myself in a straight line.
I collapse into a heap on the floor, tripping over the last step.
The embarrassment of welcoming the bikers into my home is nothing compared to the embarrassment I should be feeling now as Carter Trescott watches me crumble hopelessly to the carpet.
Of course, I don’t get the luxury of feeling embarrassment when Otis is gone. It’s a first-world emotion that I wish I could feel.
Anything is better than the paralytic feeling of heartbreak.
“Hey.” Carter attempts to stitch me back up. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
“Where is he?” I bellow.
His silence makes the answer obvious.
“Conrad.” Just saying his name makes me wanna rip off his balls and feed them to him like grapes.
“He has Otis. How?” I shake Carter like he’s a sycamore tree, hoping that if I rattle him hard enough, I’ll get some answers out of him.
“Oh my god, what a time to go mute. How? How could that be, Carter? We were upstairs. We would’ve heard. ”
“Would we?” he says, his voice even more grave than before.
He has a point. But he’s supposed to tell me what I wanna hear.
Not the truth.
I was crying at the top of my lungs a short while ago. My focus wasn’t on Otis. It was on his father’s dick.
Was that when Conrad snuck himself into my home and took my child, while he was sleeping?
Or was it after? When we were sleeping?
The time doesn’t matter.
“He’s definitely not here?” Carter asks desperately.
“You think I’d be running around like a mad woman if he was?” I comb through my hair, still knotted from earlier, when Carter was doing me upstairs.
I stare up at him and hope that he can offer me some comfort. But his icy features demonstrate just how serious this situation is.
His expression also shows how much he cares about Otis. For a man who couldn’t even give a shit to say goodbye, he’s come a long way.
Carter steps away and rakes a hand through his own matted hair. He presses himself up against the wall and takes the burner out of his pants pocket to dial the other two.
“There’s a situation. It involves Otis. We can’t find him. We think—yep, I’m afraid so. We need to get to work. Carmen and I will meet you at the clubhouse.”
“I’m not going to the clubhouse,” I interject.
“This is not up for debate, princess.”
He can princess me all he likes. He’s not gonna coax me out of my own home. What if Otis turns up?
“He’s found your address. It’s not safe to be here,” Carter says.
“Give me a gun.”
“No, Carmen.” Another aggressive rake through his hair. “We’re gonna get him back. In the meantime, we need you where we can see you. If there’s one thing worse than Otis disappearing, it’s you too. Let’s not forget that it’s you he wants.”
“He’s using Otis to get to me.”
“Exactly.” Carter points a finger at me. “He wants this reaction. So don’t give it to him. Rule number one when it comes to winning—don’t give the enemy your energy. That’s how they thrive.”
“Sorry for freaking out. It’s not like my worst nightmare has come to life or anything.”
Carter yanks my wrist and drags me to the front door—unlocked. All Conrad had to do was step right in. I forgot to lock the door earlier, too busy freaking out about Carter’s presence in my home instead.
Carter tows me out of the door and sits me on the back of his Harley. The one I drove back to mine a few days back is still sitting pretty out in the sun. I could drive it back to the clubhouse, but I’d much rather cling onto Carter and freak out from the passenger seat.
It’s a blustery ride out into the desert.
Harsh wind whips me in the face, a new wave of nausea crashing over me each time as I realize just how fucking much I’ve let Otis down.