CHEAP SMUT: Four Erotic Romance Novels (Boxed Set) (43 page)

KAT

I could recall when I was young and my grandmother died from breast cancer. The feeling deep in the pit of my stomach when my parents told me she passed away wasn’t anything I could compare to another feeling. The pain was deep, dull, and lasted for what seemed to be a lifetime. Since her death, I had never felt anything comparable, but I had not had to deal with death again either.

When I was a little older, my brother won the bull riding competition at the state level. The bull they selected for him was a tough one, feared by most men, and known for breaking bones, maiming riders, and just being downright mean. Upon learning which bull he was to ride that night, we all felt as if he could certainly die trying to ride it for the eight second requirement.

His ride was nothing short of perfect, he scored an 88, and he won the competition. The feeling I felt for him, the level of joy, and the depth of my pride was the polar opposite of what I felt when my grandmother died.

That level of joy, at least for me, had yet to be matched.

Until now.

“So, you ready to talk?” Dalton asked.

I took a bite of my eggs, and as I chewed them, glanced in his direction. “Sure.”

“Alright then,” he said as he placed his fork on the plate.

“I want this baby to be
mine
. I wanna adopt it or whatever I have to so you and I can raise it like a family. And, I guess it goes without sayin’ that I want you to stick around here forever,” he said flatly.

I dropped my fork onto the plate. Although I meant to place it there, my mind disagreed. It fell the twelve inches from my hand to the plate with a loud
clank
.

“You don’t have to do that,” I responded.

As the words escaped my mouth, I felt like a fool. I was elated, overjoyed, and beyond grateful.

“I don’t have to do anything. I realize that, Kat. I
want
to. Been thinkin’ about it for some time now. No matter what becomes of Kyle, I want that baby to be mine. Well, you know, ours. I want that. What do ya think?” he asked.

He was so calm. So matter-of-fact. It was difficult for me not to jump up, bounce across the table, and hug him.

“I think that would be nice. I like the thought of it,” I responded.

I was going to start crying. There was no two ways about it. It was coming, and I could tell.

“Axton’s Ol’ Lady, Avery, works for an attorney. I’ll see what we have to do to get something done, but I just want you to know, I want to raise that baby like it’s my own. I want you to know that, Kat. No need in havin’ that kid grow up like I did, none at all,” he said as he reached for his fork.

“None at all,” I agreed as I shook my head.

I covered my hand with my mouth and coughed.

“Bathroom,” I said as I tossed my head to the rear and stood.

He nodded his head.

As I turned away, I began to softly cry. On my way to the bathroom, tears of joy ran down my cheeks and onto the floor. Once in the bathroom, I turned on the exhaust fan and the faucet to mask the noise.

And I cried tears of happiness while thinking about having a child and living with the man I truly loved.

All at the same time.

When the tears finally stopped, I wiped my face, grateful it was early in the morning and I hadn’t done my makeup yet.

I glanced in the mirror and grinned.

I walked into the kitchen and sat down. After studying my plate for a moment, I glanced in Dalton’s direction. He had bitten a hole in the center of his piece of toast and held it in front of his right eye, peering through it as if he were looking through a knot hole in a fence.

“You know,” he said. “Lookin’ through this piece of toast like this is the shits. You can only see what’s right in front of ya. And when I move it to the side…”

He moved the toast beside his face and let it dangle from his fingers.

“Well, then you can see it
all
,” he said as he surveyed the entire kitchen.

I nodded my head and eventually began to laugh.

“I’m thinkin’ I had
toast eye
for my entire damned life and meetin’ you was like chuckin’ the fucker to the side,” he said as he tossed the toast toward the sink.

I glanced toward the sink. The toast landed perfectly in the center. I turned to face him, still giggling at the analogy he’d created.

“Toast eye?” I chuckled.

“Not anymore,” he said.

Dalton wasn’t a difficult man by any means.

But he was complex. Complex in a very simple way.

And as simple as that, Dalton had made me comfortable that not only did he want to raise another man’s child as his own, but that he attributed the broader field of vision in his recent life to having me as a lover.

Well, that and knocking the toast away from his eye.

KAT

Regardless of the resentment I felt toward my father, he was still my father. As much as I wanted to go against his each and every wish, from time to time his desires and mine were either similar or exactly the same. It was infrequent that he agreed with me, but when he did it allowed me to understand he had the ability to be human.

“I don’t know. We were together three years,” I said. “To try and count them now would be impossible.”

“Educated guess?” my father shrugged.

I gazed beyond him and toward the people seated at the far side of the coffee shop. “Fifteen or maybe twenty.”

“Actual beatings? Where he
hit
you?” he asked, trying to keep his rage from showing.

I bit my lower lip and nodded my head slightly.

“Not like
this
time, but yeah. You know, slapped me. Pushed me against the wall and slapped me. Sometimes he dragged me around the house by my hair. I don’t know what you want to call it all, but I call it bullshit. I mean looking at it all now, I call bullshit. At the time I was just, I don’t know. I think I told myself it was part of it. You know part of what it was like to be in an adult relationship. Fuck, I don’t know,” I said.

“Watch your mouth, Katrina,” he said.

“Seriously? Watch my mouth? Okay,” I huffed as I glanced down toward my shoes.

“Listen,” he said as he reached for my shoulder.

I shifted my eyes upward and met his gaze. His face portrayed his true feelings for once. He was sorry.

“Why didn’t you ask me for help? Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?” he asked softly.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Because you didn’t raise a pussy. You’re a cop, and don’t get mad, but you’re a dick cop. You raised me like I was another son. My best friend growing up was my bull riding brother. I’m not soft, and I don’t complain. It’s over, and I lived through it. I’m a stronger person now. You know, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?”

“A dick cop?” he half chuckled and half cried.

Without responding, I widened my eyes slightly and tilted my head to the side in affirmation as I turned my palms upward.

He reached up and wiped his finger along the bottom of his eye as he turned his head to the side slightly. After a long sigh, he faced me again.

“So, you’re staying with Biskette now?” he asked as our eyes met. 

“His name is
Dalton
. He’s not a suspect in a crime, so don’t call him Biskette, please,” I said. “And yes.”

“And you say he came to your house and
saved
you? He drug Kyle outside and kicked the shit out of him?” he asked.

I nodded my head as I reached for my vanilla bean smoothie. “Sure did.”

“What threats did he make afterward? Upon Kyle’s departure he had to tell him something. What did he say?” he asked.

I was beginning to feel like I was under investigation. My father, try as he might, was always a cop first, and a human being later. Seeing no value in telling him the complete truth, I shrugged my shoulders and told my version of the story.

“He, he Kyle, not he Dalton. He was forcing me to suck his dick. He had me…”

“Stop,” he said as he raised his hand in the air “No need for the graphic details.”

“So you want me to sugar coat it for you? Lie to you?” I asked as I placed the cup on the table beside me.

He glanced around the coffee shop and eventually fixed his eyes on mine. “I wish you hadn’t picked this place to meet. I wish you’d have met me at our house.”

I widened my eyes as my mouth curled into a slight smirk. “When we’re at your house you have the upper hand. At least here we’re closer to even.”

He shook his head and leaned to the side and turned to face me, positioning himself much closer to me.

“Continue,” he whispered.

“So he had his little dick in one hand and my hair in the other. He tried to force me to suck his dick. When I refused, he slapped me. I don’t know, it seems like I stood up and told him to leave. Then he slapped the absolute fuck out of me and knocked me down. He picked me up by the hair and was trying to shove his ratty little dick in my mouth again, and Dalton burst into the room.”

“He broke into your apartment? Knocked the door down?” he asked.

“No, god damn it. The door was open, Kyle left it open. Dalton’s not some thug, Dad,” I said.

“So anyway, Dalton grabbed him, beat the shit out of him, and drug him downstairs and made him leave. He told Kyle if he ever came back, he’d give it to him again.”

I reached for my drink as I waited for his response.

He widened his eyes slightly. “And that was it?”

“Maybe you should have been there. It was enough. Dalton beat the absolute shit out of him,” I responded.

“And then what?” he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders as I slid my lips over the end of the straw. After sucking half of the remaining vanilla lusciousness from the cup I lowered it to my side and responded.

“He carried me to my room, held me in his arms, and I fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning, he was gone,” I responded.

“And after that time? What about the most recent time? What did Dalton do?” he asked.

“Jesus, dad. He came to get me, they fixed up my face with some butterfly stitches, cleaned me up, and they went looking for him. It’s been five days and so far, nothing,” I said as I reached for my drink.

“When was the last time they went looking, do you know?” he asked.

Back under investigation.

I swear.

“Yesterday, I think,” I said.

“Still trying to find him, huh?” he asked as he relaxed into his seat.

“Uh huh,” I nodded.

“Katrina, I’ve got some news. I don’t know how you’re going to take it, but I need to tell you. I don’t want you to hear it from anyone else but me. I want to be the one who’s here for you through this,” he said.

Oh my god. Mom’s got cancer, doesn’t she?

I bit my lower lip and nodded my head, not wanting to hear whatever he had to say, but knowing whatever it was needed to be heard.

“They found Kyle, this morning. An apparent suicide. It appears he’s been dead for five days,” he paused and inhaled a shallow breath.

I sighed heavily and the words escaped my mouth as I exhaled.

“Thank god,” I heaved.

His eyes narrowed and he looked confused.

“He’s dead, Katrina,” he said as he shook his head.

I nodded my head. I had no idea how I should have felt, but I was nothing short of relieved. Whatever feelings I had for Kyle in the past, regardless of what they were, vanished the day he beat me the way he did the last time. Now, there was nothing left. Nothing at all. With Kyle gone, I could truly begin a new life with Dalton without worry or fear of him returning someday.

“I got that. And I’m happy,” I said as I raised my cup.

He gazed at me with a look of clear confusion.

“Dalton said he wanted to adopt the baby. We found out he couldn’t without Kyle’s consent. This just makes everything easier. Dad, he was an animal. A fucking beast. He probably realized exactly what he did, regretted it, and killed himself in a drunken stupor,” I said.

“Alcohol played a part. The county investigated it, but I’ve seen the report. His toxicity was…”

I raised my hand in the air to stop him from continuing. “La la la la I don’t care.”

He shook his head and grinned. “You really don’t care, do you?”

“Nope. I want to celebrate,” I said as I stood from my chair.

“Lunch, my treat?” he asked.

“Depends,” I said as I reached for my purse.

I shifted my eyes upward as I stood. He gazed back with wide eyes, waiting for me to continue. I stared at him for a moment. He looked happier than I had seen him in some time, and I had no idea what about our mid-morning coffee would have pleased him so much.

“On?’ he eventually asked.

“You going to leave Dalton alone? Let us be?” I asked.

“Are you truly happy?” he asked.

I nodded my head. “Never been happier.”

“Is there any fear that one day he’ll harm you?” he asked.

I shook my head. “The complete opposite. He’s sweet, Dad. He really is. Not only will he never hurt me, he’ll make damned sure no one else does, either.”

He nodded his head and opened his arms. “All I want is for my little girl to be happy.”

“She is,” I said as I hugged him.

As he held me in his arms, I sighed. And, although my father didn’t raise a pussy, a tear escaped my eye and ran down my cheek.

It was the first time in my life I could remember my father holding me in his arms that I didn’t want him to let me go.

I love you, Dad.