Cries of Penance (30 page)

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Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

I wish I could reassure him, but al I know for certain is that the Guardians don’t have her. My eyelids are heavy, even after sleeping al day, and I realize it is because my heart is heavy. I can’t bear to think of anything except Celia and my children being hidden safely in the Nevada wilderness. Any doubt that she might not be there would kil me, because if she isn’t I have no idea where to even begin looking. “I’m driving to where I think Celia and the children are hiding.

Just hope she’s there when we get there.”

He looks as exhausted as I feel, haggard.

I lean toward him. “Can I kiss you?”

“Shouldn’t we be driving as fast as we can? Aren’t al these delays dangerous? What if she was there but leaves because she gets tired of waiting?”

“If she’s at the safe house, she won’t leave. Hektor won’t let her. He knows the rules.”

“The rules?”

I glance through the windshield to see the gas station attendant is watching us. I start the car and pul away from the pumps, wishing I hadn’t asked him if I could kiss him. It was too soon. He just needs time. “I’l explain everything while we drive, okay?”

He nods, his face crumbling. “You realize this is too much, don’t you? How do you do this? How many times have you started over? New name, new identity?

How many lovers have you abandoned? And why are you keeping the ménage together this time? You could have walked away. That’s what the whole thing was about back there in DC, wasn’t it? You were supposed to walk away. So why 280

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offer me a new identity? Why not just let me go home and if the bad guys got me, kil ed me, who cares? I’d have just been col ateral damage in some greater plan.”

I drive onto the access road, and then onto the interstate. How do I explain to him that Glorianna knew the current threat to her organization would be nothing compared to my wrath if anything happened to Garrett, Celia, or my children?

She has to be worried what the repercussions to Lattie’s death wil be. She also knows that my mind is distracted from revenge as long as I’m trying to get my other loved ones safely hidden away. It takes time and energy to hide, to regain some level of safety and security. As it stands, she probably thinks she won’t have to worry about any threat from me for years. If ever. She also has my brother now. She knows I won’t risk his life doing anything stupid, and she plans to recruit my children. She doesn’t need to know that wil only happen over my dead body.

“Is any of this ever going to make sense to me?” he asks.

I look at him, shaking my head. “I hope not. I don’t want you to be in so deep that you ever understand.”

He slides his hand up my thigh, squeezing. It isn’t a kiss, but his touch is a comfort. I cover his hand with mine and can feel him trembling.

“Can you possibly understand how pissed off I am?”

I shake my head, keeping my eyes on the road.

“You expect me to give it al up—everything that I am. My life. My business.

My dreams.” He snaps his fingers. “Just like that?”

I don’t know what to say.

“Stop the car!”

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I look at him, not understanding. I know he’s mad, but surely to God he doesn’t want out now.

“Please,” he asks more rational y.

I take an exit instead of pul ing onto the shoulder and fol ow the signs less than a mile to a state park entrance. The sign reads Green River, but it’s dark so I have no idea if there is a river in the distance. We’re surrounded by trees, and against the dark sky it is possible to make out some towering rock formations. I’m positive by the light of day it would be a beautiful place to come. I unbuckle, turning in my seat to look at him. “I understand if you never want to see me again, but please don’t leave without saying goodbye to Celia.”

“I don’t want to say goodbye to you or Celia. I need you to remind me why I’m staying. What is it about you that makes my blood sing in my veins? When I was sitting in that damn hotel room, waiting for you to show up or not, I thought I would rather die than never see you again. That isn’t a sane thought.”

I start to interrupt but I don’t, I let him talk.

“I love being Kitten’s Master, it fulfil s a need, and I do love her, deeply, but I know myself wel enough to know that if it was just me and her, we wouldn’t work long term. I’m not Master enough for her, and she’s not male enough for me. It was hard enough to stay monogamous with Tony, and I loved him, with my heart, my soul, my entire being. At night, I would lay awake, remembering you.”

I want to hold him, but he has to make the first move.

“I hate you.” He glares at me. “You’ve taken away everything and stil , I want you. Being in this car with you, not touching you, is kil ing me, but I don’t want you to touch me because I’m addicted to you.”

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Tears glisten in his eyes. As a tear escapes, sliding down his cheek, I catch it with my thumb and he pushes his face into my palm.

He sobs against my hand. “Tel me you’re worth it.”

I lift his face, touching my lips to his. “I love you. I don’t want you to go away.

Destroying your old life only has meaning if the three of us are able to build something new and better from the wreckage.”

“Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like you’re promising me that you wil never leave us alone again.”

I kiss him, hard, raping his mouth with my tongue and my teeth. If he’s addicted to me, I’m just as addicted to him. The times when we are alone together, creating scenes together, are awesome times. As Lord Ice, he brings out in me emotion I have never al owed myself to experience with another person. I’m surprised when he pul s away and steps out of the car.

I don’t fol ow him, not right away. I trail him with my gaze, watching him cross the parking lot and enter a grove of trees. Cursing, I climb out of the car and fol ow. I find him sitting on top of a weathered, wood picnic table. As I approach, he strips out of his t-shirt. He kicks off his shoes, and it is fairly obvious where this is going to lead.

When I step into the space between his knees, he wraps his hand around the nape of my neck and pul s me forward forcibly. Our gazes col ide as our lips meet in a deep kiss. There isn’t anything slow or soft about it as he takes what he wants from my mouth, teeth biting, col iding, our tongues having intercourse in the depths of each other’s mouths. He leaves me breathless and needy. As 283

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much as I’d like to push his shoulders down against the tabletop and climb over him, straddling his face, I don’t.

I pul down the elastic waistband of his sweatpants, exposing his cock and bal s. He’s hard as a rock, pointed skyward. I lower my mouth and suck him in deep. I slide my mouth up and down, sucking hard, biting softly.

He lays but manages to keep watching me suck his dick.

I use him with my mouth roughly, bringing his need to a sharp point fast, too fast. I don’t give him time to hold back and leave him hanging onto me. Coming, he sits up cradling over my head, holding onto my shoulders.

I keep sucking, even when I know the sensation is too much, pushing him hard over the edge to a painful place.

“Ahh, ahh.” He screams and pants.

Standing, I pul him off the table and force him to bend over its top. Jerking his sweats down to his knees, I push my face into his crack, rimming his anus with my tongue, while I jerk on his half-hard cock, encouraging it to stiffen.

He pants and begs, “Do it, do it.”

I unbuckle my belt, open my pants, and thrust blindly at his hole. I hit my target, fil ing him in one hard, fast thrust. He curses, and moans. I jerk hard against him, taking what I want. His ass is tight around my big cock. Every thrust stretches him.

“Is this what you had in mind?”

“Yes, God, yes?”

“Is this what you crave?”

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“More, I need more. I need you to lay my soul bare, take me to the edge, leave me shaking and screaming and puking.”

I push into him—harder, deeper. Jerking his cock up and his bal s down, I make him shriek. “Like the first time? At the cove?”

“Yes, yes!”

I spasm against him, fil ing him with my jism. I smack his ass as I pul out.

“Stick around and I’l show you what I’ve real y got. The cove was just a warm up.”

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“Dreams do come true, if only we wish hard enough. You can have anything in life if you wil sacrifice everything else for it.”

J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

I have no idea where we are going, I hope Thomas does. He seems to, I trust him. I guess I better—trust him—what else is left? In the blink of an eye I’ve made choices that wil change the direction of my entire life.

At Salt Lake City he drives into a store-al compound.

The interior of his unit is like something out of a spy movie. Computers, satel ite linkup, heavy artil ery arsenal, enough clothes and disguises that he could change his identity a hundred times over. A truck. But not just any truck, a nineteen-sixty Ford in mint condition. When he unveils it, I am left awed, and antiques don’t do it for me, but my God, what a beauty.

“I always hoped I’d need this one someday.”

“We’re taking the truck?”

“Yep. I’m a new man, a different man, gotta have a vehicle that represents the new me.”

“This old truck represents the new you?” This worries me.

He explains as he loads the back with tool boxes and canvases. “This was always plan B, for when al else failed and I needed to hide away. It probably won’t be a permanent gig, but for the next few weeks, while we figure out our future, I have to be the character people remember. Crazy guy, artist, drinks too much, smokes too much, doesn’t talk hardly at al , and keeps to himself in the 286

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hil s. The only snag in my plan is you, and of course Celia. Fitting you both into my story.”

As I watch him become more laid-back artist, and less Thomas by the second, it becomes apparent how easy it is for him, and I realize if this is going to work for us, it has to become easy for me.

Over the next three hours we head west then south. The passing time means nothing as I dwel on who I can possibly be other than me.

“So, weird hippie artist dude, who do I become to fit in with that?”

“Think about it as a new chapter in your life. Who would you be if you weren’t Lewd Larry?”

“Not a doctor.”

“Okay, so where else can you go with the education you have?”

“You don’t get it, I like being me!” Has Thomas ever got en to be himself?

After a moment I say, “I could be a col ege professor, I’m not sure how I’d pul it off without transcripts and recommendations, but as secondary career choice, I could see myself teaching.”

“Awesome! See, now you’re thinking. Documentation is easy. Validation, no problem. I can see you teaching, and col ege towns are easy to get lost in. My kooky artist scam wouldn’t stand out at al .” He smiles. “And there’s always hot col egiate who want to get a little wild. We could host some very private parties.”

Sharing a look, we laugh. I am encouraged we don’t have to give up kink altogether. “What about Celia? How does she fit in? How do your children fit in?”

He lets out a heavy sigh. We must be getting close, because every mile we drive the tenser he becomes. I think he’s worried she won’t be there, wherever 287

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there is. “She has to create her own character and then we al work together, tweaking and defining our roles until our story works.”

“What if she wants nothing to do with this?”

As soon as I ask the question, I regret it, realizing that he’s probably been asking himself that since we left Washington DC.

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“Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it wil bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.”

Anais Nin

I am a mother.

I’ve counted fingers and toes, again and again. I stare at my babies, stripped down to their skin, memorizing every fold, every dimple, so important for keeping track of Boy Number One, and Boy Number Two, but more specifical y so that they become real in my mind. I can’t name them. I want Thomas here, and Garrett, to name them without their input would seem like I’ve given up on ever seeing them again.

I know Garrett must be worried sick after so many days of not hearing from me. He was busy with his mother, but he always cal ed to tel me good night.

Soon I wil take the children into town, not Ely, we’l go to a different town, and I’l cal him from a pay phone.

The last few days have seemed like such a dream. Did I real y give birth?

I must have, because these two perfect angels are here.

I listen to their hearts, I listen to them breathe. They seem abnormal y smal and that scares me, but then I’ve never seen a newborn. I don’t know if they are smal , very smal , or normal.

They’re little piggies.

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It seems I nurse them one by one, and no more than finish with the two of them until they want to eat again. They are so beautiful. I wish I had a camera so that I could photograph every angle of perfection, every second of their life.

If I am ga-ga over these babies, their brothers and sisters are even more over the moon in love. Everyone gets a turn holding them—even Atso—with close supervision and a pil ow bolster.

It’s been a long day, and I’m exhausted. I keep tel ing myself only another few hours until we can go back to bed—and I haven’t done anything.

The courtyard is shaded in the evening, and so I move us al outside to enjoy the evening breeze. The twins fit perfectly inside a dresser drawer and it seems practical for transporting them around. I placed it near the chaise where they’re sleeping contentedly.