Epilogue
Lauren woke up shaking, feverish, unable to catch her breath.
She groaned, hurting, not because of her wound, but because Santiago’s head was buried between her thighs, her legs resting on his back as he ate her out as if her pussy was ambrosia cake.
She begged for release, but he was deaf, dumb, and blind to anything that wasn’t—
She fractured in a guttural scream, her sex contracting and releasing hard and fast, then slow and deep. Then the mellow waves of post orgasm liquefied her muscles into a useless unmoving mass.
“Dessert, ten out of ten,” Santiago said, kissing her inner thigh.
She was too filled with satisfaction to respond. She didn’t need to.
His knees pressed against her ass, the bulbous head of his dick pausing just beyond her breach.
“You’re not going to fuck me into staying, Santiago Stillwater,” she declared.
He entered her torturously slow.
“I believe I can fuck you into just about anything I want. Now, let me hear you sing my name, little wren.”
She screamed it, begged, scratched, bit, pleaded. Nothing stopped him from having everything he wanted. And as she lost consciousness this time, she couldn’t remember why she needed to go back to California in the first place.
“Listen,” Lauren said as she pressed dangly silver earrings into her ear. “I’m trying to practice forgiveness—”
“Fuck that,” Santiago growled, frustrated as she left his bedroom.
He followed her, stomping down the stairs.
“They need to ask you for forgiveness just like Ma Mable did. You don’t just go giving your forgiveness away; who says they even deserve that shit.”
It had been two weeks since they were both shot. She was still healing. She didn’t need to be making plans to go—
Enough.
He scooped her up from behind, carried her outside, and planted her in his rocking chair.
He sat on the porch between her legs and rested his arms over her thighs. She plucked him on the back of the head then gathered his hair and rested the mass over his right shoulder.
Her lips pressed against the left side of his neck and his aggravation ebbed.
“It’s only been two weeks since you were shot, Wren. Things are moving fast here, and what did we agree to?”
She rested her head on his shoulder and spoke into his neck. “That we would both slow down. And I have, Santi.”
“Because you were fucking shot. Now that you’re healing, you’re already talking about having more meetings for business building. You’ve been on the phone nearly five hours a day reaching out to contacts about investing.”
“You were also shot and are healing, yet I heard you on the phone talking to Roan about finding Bailey Joe’s phone in Sam Ferriday’s safe.
Also heard you talking to Doc Cleveland about the mysterious jars found under Mrs. Willoby’s bed and in her yard.
There were more calls. Do you want me to go on?
” He grunted, and she chuckled. “I’ve been on the phone literally no more than two hours a day.
For a woman used to working ten plus hours a day, it’s a vast improvement. ”
She kissed his temple and he remained silent.
Ma Mable already told him how much Lauren worked back in California.
“In a month,” he capitulated. “And we will be going, not you by yourself. We’ll do everything we need to do to get your life there wrapped up in two weeks. Maybe see a few sites, then return home.”
“I know you’re not telling me how to live my life.”
“The fuck I ain’t. I am absolutely telling you.”
He stopped speaking because his volume grew louder with each successive word.
“Calm down League. What happened to the grim stoic man I met at that accident site?”
“You happened,” he groused, and she laughed.
The pleasure he experienced from the sound...if she wasn’t careful, they wouldn’t make it to California for another two months.
“You might not be ready to hear this,” he said, massaging her calf. “But there’s not a woman alive I’ve ever wanted to share my home or my life with. I love you and I almost feel sorry for what that means for you. Especially since you’re still dealing with what Derrick’s betrayal cost.”
“It only cost me a chunk of my ego and a temporary inability to trust myself or my perceptions. But the benefit is knowing I’m strong enough to heal after my life shatters into fragments.
The benefit is you; knowing that if me being who I am is too much, I just need to surround myself with people who feel my ‘too muchness’ is their just right. ”
“I’ve made you wise.”
She smacked him. Violence truly was one of her love languages.
Looking to his left he saw three figures walking toward them. He squinted.
“Who’s that with your mother?” he asked.
Turning her head, she swung her leg over his head. “Oh hell no,” she said, standing.
She left him out on the porch alone and slammed the screen door.
“Hell fucking no!” He heard her shout, stomping up the stairs where he heard their bedroom door also slam shut.
Santiago stood up and walked off the porch ready to tell Ma Mable and the devil himself that they could not pass.
Ma Mable raised her hands in surrender.
“They just showed up—no call, no warning—just knocked on my door. I was as shocked and angry as she must be.”
He knew by the older man’s face who he was; he and Lauren had too many of the same features. Based on that it was easy to deduce the identity of the woman standing beside him.
Santi looked back at Ma Mable. “She’s not ready for this, not now. She’s still healing.”
“Son, who are you to tell me I can’t see my child?”
“You’ve crossed over onto my land. That’s my house. I’m the one who decides who will and who will not step in there. And let’s be clear, today, that will not be either of you. Lauren’s injured. I won’t have her any more stressed out than she is right now.”
“I told them you weren’t like that no good assed Derrick.”
“Mable–”
“No, Keith Green.” She walked toward Santiago’s porch. “I’m going to check on my child. You’re free to drive back to town or stay at Lauren’s house but I have a feeling Deborah won’t have you.”
Ma Mable disappeared inside his house and Santiago stood there in nothing but a pair of jeans silently looking from one to the other of them.
“Can you tell her I’m sorry I hurt her; that I’ll do anything to have my big sister back? Tell her I love her despite my shitty actions. Tell her I understand if she never forgives me.”
Lahn was beautiful, like Lauren said, but her tears didn’t move him to the protectiveness he felt at Lauren’s angry retreat.
Unable to maintain eye contact with him she looked toward the house then turned to walk back in the direction she came.
“I’ve only ever wanted my girls to be happy. How is a father supposed to choose? Lauren’s always been the strong one.”
Santiago was sick of hearing about how her family highlighted how strong Lauren was. As if it was a superpower that gave them permission to not take into account her tender and vulnerable parts.
“Lauren’s strength doesn’t mean she can’t feel, Mr. Green. That woman feels things deeper than most of the people I know. No matter how strong she is, you don’t leave her out in the rain to weather the fucking storm alone,” he growled, then reined in his emotions and nodded once.
“When she’s ready to see you, she’ll let you know.” He turned toward his home and called out. “Word of warning: stay out of the lake. It’s not safe for visitors.”
Lauren and her mother were plastered along opposite sides of the slightly ajar French doors listening to the exchange between Lahn, Santi, and her father.
When the screen door clattered shut downstairs, they rushed to the edge of the bed and sat down, listening intently as Santi banged around. When he didn’t come upstairs, they relaxed, looking at each other with wide eyes.
“He handled that well, real calm.”
“No Ma, that man is seething with anger. Let’s give him a few minutes to pull it together. He doesn’t like people seeing him when he feels out of control.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes before Lauren dared to ask the question she’d avoided asking since her mother’s arrival.
“Are you gonna divorce Daddy?”
“How would you feel if I said yes?”
“Sad at first, not as sad as I would’ve been before I knew the truth about what went down between you and Daddy. More than anything else, I’d be proud to support any decision you make. These last few weeks I feel like I have my old Ma back. The one who loved me without all that fear and anger.”
“Could you ever forgive your father and Lahn?”
“I was making plans to go back home to practice forgiveness. Santi said they needed to ask for forgiveness before I forgave them for shit.”
Ma Mable laughed.
“Then they show up today out of nowhere and it threw me off. Their sudden appearance felt like an intrusion.”
“Like mine did?”
“No, you’re coming here was way worse.” She shrugged at her mother’s thunderous look.
“Daddy’s always been the good guy, the one who tried to maintain balance and peace, the shoulder to cry on, the hardworking father who took care of his girls: you, me, Lahn.
Him remaining silent hurt but him avoiding conflict is not out of the norm.
Lahn, I didn’t expect the betrayal, but I’m also aware that outside of her career, she has always relied on one of the three of us to take up the slack when she needs us to, and we have.
I also know Lahn has a big heart and would give me the clothes off her back. ”
“Even if they would never fit,” Ma said.
“God, could you imagine?” Lauren laughed, sobering.
“When you came to my condo, coddling and defending Lahn and expecting me to do the same despite her betrayal...that was the thing that threw me over the edge. I thought you really didn’t give a shit about me.”
Her mother started to apologize all over again and Lauren waved it all away.
“I was too in my feelings to believe anything else, but I’ve always known who I could go to when my back was against a wall.”