Chapter 18
Lake
Caleb is dead. That’s Saint’s confession. I want the details. I want to know if he suffered. Did it hurt? Did he beg and cry for someone to save him?
It’s torture keeping the questions to myself; I have so many.
But Scotty and Jax are here with all the girls.
Bethany and Bellamy have gotten so big since I saw them last summer, and Blakely runs around like she owns the place.
Which, from how Carver acts, she does. It’s amusing to watch such an emotionless man be so gentle and loving to his three granddaughters.
My eyes roam the room, seeking out Saint as he holds a sleeping newborn in his arms. Aria, Seven, and Severo had their first boy, Rowan, just after Christmas, and he’s so sweet.
His eyes follow everyone around the room as much as he can.
I’m not sure how he wound up in Saint’s arms, or how the man is so calm with such a tiny person attached to him, but I find myself daydreaming about our future.
How he will be with children of our own one day.
Children.
Of my own.
For so long, motherhood has been so far out of the realm of possibility for me that, shockingly, I’m even contemplating it now.
But Saint…
He deserves the things he wants, even when he tells me I’m enough. Believing him was difficult at first, until he started to prove it. Over the years, he’s demonstrated his devotion to me, but thus far, a life outside of day-to-day survival has been elusive.
Getting to my feet, I’m halted in my trek across the room by Blakely and Ariella body slamming a hug into each of my legs before laughing and running away again. Saint watches me intently, his gaze heating up and boiling over with desire.
After my promise outside and spending the evening enjoying our families, I’m more than ready for some alone time. For once, not from being thrown into a panic, but from my need to show Saint how much I love him. How I’m every bit as devoted to him as he is to me.
Saint’s arm reaches for me, wrapping around my neck and dragging me into his body to kiss the top of my head and inhale deeply.
“He’s precious, don’t you think?” I ask, tracing a finger across Rowan’s forehead, and his little sigh melts my heart as he snuggles deeper into Saint.
“Yeah.” I glance up at the rough timber in Saint’s tone to notice him watching me, a possessive streak glinting in his eyes.
“One of these would look good on you.” My breath catches, and he smirks.
“Stay here, I’m going to find one of his dads, then we’ll head home.
” Nodding, I chew on my lip as I watch him walk away.
Scotty and Aria giggle their way over to me as Scotty points at Saint. “If that man doesn’t knock you up tonight, it’s going to be soon.” I rub her burgeoning belly, having the same feeling.
“I can’t believe you’re having another one,” I say, tickling her side, and I’m rewarded with a kick. “You want a boy?”
She shakes her head immediately. “I honestly don’t care so long as they’re healthy, but Jax is such a girl dad, I don’t think he’d know what to do with a boy.”
The man in question currently chases his youngest around as she laughs and screams, and I know she’s right.
“What about you, Aria? Ready to think about another one?” A horrified look crosses her face, and we all share a laugh.
“Not yet. Sev and Ro have been yapping about it, but honestly, I just want to enjoy Rowan right now. Gus has been such a huge help, too, but she goes back to school next week. I don’t think I can even picture more yet.
” The love and happiness in her eyes say otherwise. “Besides, I think it’s your turn.”
“I worry I won’t be a good mom,” I quietly confess, and they both look at me like I’ve sprouted a second head.
“No chance,” Aria says with conviction.
“Yeah, not when you’re the favorite aunt. Any one of these rugrats would tell you the same. Especially Ariella. You’re her favorite person in the world, next to her parents,” Scotty assures me.
Shrugging, I’m doubtful but hope they’re right as Saint approaches, nodding at the girls and gripping my hand in his. I say goodbye and follow along. We exit the house, and he pulls me into his arms to steal a kiss.
Sweeping his tongue into my startled mouth, he licks at me, tasting everywhere he can while picking me up and walking towards his truck. I’m so lost in him as he opens the door, and my ass hits the seat.
“You sure?” he asks, pulling back to search my eyes.
“Yeah, Saint, I’m sure.” Rubbing my hands up and down his chest, my thighs tighten on his hips, pulling him farther into me.
“You’re in complete control. I want you to take as much or little as you want.”
Grinning at his serious expression, my hands tug his head back down until our lips touch as I say, “I want everything you have to offer, Saint. I want us to finally be free of the pain from my past and enjoy each other the way we were always intended to.”
“Mmmm.” That delicate sound from him is so tender that it brings tears to my eyes. “Buckle up,” he orders, but does it for me as he reluctantly backs away from me.
Closing my door, he darts around to his side, clips his belt, and starts the truck, squealing the tires as he tears out of the driveway for home.
It’s a clear night, with stars dotting the sky and faint outlines of clouds in the distance. It’s a perfect scene for making dreams and wishing upon shooting stars.
Ordinarily, it would remind me of that night.
“It was clear like this that night. There’d been rain earlier in the evening while we ate dinner.
But after, the sky was so clear, you could count the stars.
” My throat tightens as Saint’s driving slows, but my gaze remains locked on a bright star all alone.
“I remember staring up at the sky and wishing for morning to come. Because then I would have been noticed missing. They would have been forced to let me go or kill me.”
Saint makes a choked sound, and my head slowly turns to find his jaw clenched so tight it’s ticking, while his hands wrap the steering wheel in such a fierce grip it sounds like it’s about to crack.
“I remember everything like it happened yesterday. Every day I wake up and remember. The way they ripped into my body like they owned me. The bruises from their hands and fingers still haunt me. Sometimes, if I slip too far into my mind, I’ll randomly flinch because I feel it happening again.
I want you to replace those feelings, Saint. ”
His head twists to meet my stare before refocusing on the road.
In the gentlest voice, he says, “I won’t hurt you.”
“I never thought you would.” As he turns into his driveway, I blow out a trapped breath, waiting until we’re outside before saying, “I want you to know they took pleasure in making me scream and cry. They got more vicious if I was silent. They said vile things I wish I could forget.” Saint stands in front of me, panting, with fists clenched at his side.
“I’m telling you this because I know you’re going to kill them all.
I want you to. But I don’t want it to be easy for them.
I want them to suffer the way I did. I want you to make them cry for their mommies and laugh in their faces.
Subject them to what they did to me, Saint, because they deserve it. ”
Finally, he reaches a single hand forward, not quite touching me but hovering over my face, and I recognize the tension in his body. Veins bulge, while muscles ripple and coil with the need for violence that lives and breathes inside of him like the predator he is.
When our skin finally meets, his finger tracing my lips as our eyes clash, I see his rage building and coiling like a snake, ready to strike.
“I’ll make an example of them,” he says in such a feral tone that if I hadn’t been so focused on him, I wouldn’t have recognized it as his.
“I knew you would, Saint.”
His finger gently trails down the front of my body, unbothered by the loose shirt I wore to hide myself—a frequent garment in my wardrobe—until he reaches my waist.
“Come inside, Lake.” Lust seeps from each word, overtaking his body as he intently watches me. His gaze is heavy as I walk ahead of him. It’s like a rough caress, eating me alive.
He unlocks the door, doing exactly as he promised earlier, allowing me all the control. Not pushing me to enter the house before I’m ready. Instead, he’s a steady presence behind me—a wall of strength to help me have the things my heart desires.
And what I desire the most right now is him.
I enter the house and turn to watch him lock the door and set the alarm. My feet carry me backwards to the stairs, and slowly, he begins to stalk me, following along at the same speed, never pouncing, only prowling. He’s the predator, and I’m his willing prey.
Turning, I bolt up the stairs to our room.
His rapid breathing and booted steps echo as he lets me beat him to the room.
I slide down my pants after toeing off my shoes, though I’m too nervous to pull up my shirt.
Yes, he’s seen the scars, and by all accounts doesn’t care about them, but with the lights shining brightly, my nerves kick in, and I have trouble being uninhibited.
As Saint enters the room, his boots are gone, his shirt has been shed and tossed aside, and he whips his belt from its loops and unbuckles his dark-wash jeans. My eyes stay glued to the strength I know his fingers possess because he always touches me so gently yet purposefully.
He’s holding back now, however.
“Will you touch me, Saint?” He’s told me I’m in charge, but I don’t know what to do or where to start. I feel silly knowing nothing about being with a man.
He grunts, but nods, and slides his pants down his legs, leaving him in nothing but a tight pair of boxer briefs that do nothing to contain his manhood.
Holy crap. “I don’t think you’ll fit,” I whisper as he ambles around the room, turning on a lamp in the corner and shutting off the overhead light.