Devil's Despair Box Set: Books 1-3 (16 page)

“Grandpa, look! Gramma got me
two
of these.” My son, who is dressed in slacks, a brown, collared polo shirt, and shiny dress shoes, runs to my father’s arms, not noticing the rest of us at the table. He proudly shows him two orange plastic eggs filled with Silly Putty.

Emotions take a strong hold over me. My heart rate increases, and my chest tightens at the sight of him and my dad conversing in front of me. The memory of Decklan after he was born plays through my mind; so little and innocent to the circumstances he was being born into.

My son is the epitome of his father; dark hair, dark eyes, and the strong Italian heritage speaks volumes of who this child belongs to. Looking at him now, my heart swelling with love, I don’t consider Decklan as a product of his father’s vicious act in raping me. He’s my son, an extension of me, and I want to know him. Being a mother is all I’ve thought about the last five years, regardless of my constant habit of self-sabotage.

I wish I could touch him, feel his small hand in mine, but watching him with my dad and knowing he doesn’t have any feelings toward me at all stops me from trying. This will take time, and I’m going to have to reach deep and find the strength to accomplish what I’m wanting so I don’t fall apart in the process.

Ace latches on to my thigh and at the same time, Travis holds my forearm tightly. I feel myself start to sway.

I hear a bag drop behind me at the garage door’s entrance. Then I hear the disapproving voice that’s haunted me since I left it here. “What… what are you doing here, Raegan?”

Mom’s home.

My dad quietly makes the attempt to calm her as Decklan sits in his lap. “Anna, honey, don’t start in until you talk to…”

Mom cuts Dad off, another constant memory fastened from my past. “She shouldn’t be here. Decklan’s here.”

With her words, Ace immediately stands, his anger radiating from every pore. Travis stands, as well, but puts his hand on my shoulder to signal me to stay seated.

Ace stalks toward Mom and as he does, her eyes widen in absolute horror. “Mrs. Simmons, I’m Ace.” Pointing behind him, but never losing eye contact with my mom, he continues introductions. “That’s Travis and you already know Raegan. We’re here to meet Decklan, that’s all.”

At his name, my son turns his head and the look of surprise is stunning. His big, round eyes widen as he takes in the two large men standing in his grandmother’s kitchen. I watch him carefully as he clings to his grandpa. It’s my dad he’s closest to, and I can see this as he takes comfort in my dad’s arms, never once looking to my mother for reassurance.

Mom doesn’t speak, but Dad does. “Well, since introductions have been made, I think now’s as good a time as any for some of little D’s chocolate milk.” Running his fingers through Decklan’s hair, he finishes the request. “What do you say, buddy?”

Decklan’s gaze still doesn’t leave Travis or Ace, but once Ace looks at him and smiles, Decklan relaxes and answers, “I’ll get the cups!”

After Decklan makes his way down my dad’s lap, my dad stands and walks to my mother, who continues to bore her stare into me just like she did so many times while growing up.

“Anna, a word?”

“I’m not leaving.” She says this while she concentrates on standing. My presence has shaken her.

“You wanna have this conversation in front of D?” Dad’s voice is raised, something I rarely heard him do with her while I was growing up.

“I’m not having this conversation at all.” She sends me one more glare as she finishes her fury. “Get out.”

Travis increases the pressure on my shoulder, prompting me to stay seated and quiet. Ace steps toward my mother again and although I can’t hear what he’s saying, my dad doesn’t interrupt him as I watch my mom pale. Finally, she turns around and walks out of the room.

Looking at Ace, Dad explains, “We don’t have much time.” Then turning around to the cupboards, he calls for my son. “Deck, come here a second.”

Oblivious to the firestorm about to erupt, Decklan argues, “But I’m getting the cups.”

“In a minute, son. Come here.”

Decklan walks to him, looking confused but also annoyed in the five-year-old sense. My dad lifts him up and holds him in his arms while standing and slowly walks to my side of the table.

“Deck, this is Raegan.”

My heart stops the moment Decklan looks at me. He’s nervous and shy, but also curious; he looks at my hair, my shirt, then back to my face. “Hi, Decklan,” I mutter, still unsure I’m ready for this.

“Hi.” His voice is small, but I swear I heard it echo throughout my soul; the connection, though ever-present, has been verified and validated.

“How old are you?” I’m trying to make small talk with someone who doesn’t understand that my maternal instinct is to hold him in my arms and smother him with kisses.

Holding up his hand, he spreads his thin fingers wide. I focus on a small cut about his middle knuckle, assuming no doubt he’s a boy and got it from doing something he shouldn’t have been. “I’m four, and tomorrow I’m going to be five.”

Faking surprise, I ask him what I already know. “Wow. Your birthday is tomorrow?”

“Grandpa said I can eat whatever I want for dinner. We’re having macaroni and cheese.”

I smile at my dad, and he grins as he catches it. We’re both remembering, once again, the way I devoured macaroni and cheese. I don’t know if my dad remembers my mom’s reaction to us doing that; she hated our obsession with processed foods. It’s hard not to be spiteful in thought knowing she’s raising a child that isn’t so unlike the one she disliked for all those years.

Looking to Decklan as he obliviously stares down at me from my father’s arm, I offer myself without invitation. “Maybe I can see you tomorrow on your birthday? My friends and I would love to visit you again.”

“Okay.” His answer is simple, but the meaning it carries for me can only be weighted in measures of gold.

“All right.”

I feel myself about to break. Moving away slowly, backing out of the room, I head for the door. I hear Ace say something to Dad, and Dad’s response is to rattle off a series of numbers. I’m assuming that’s his phone number.

Travis makes it to me first as soon as my feet hit the garage floor. Wrapping me in his arms, he pulls my head to his chest and lets me have a few minutes of quiet to gather my senses as he sways me back and forth, treating me no differently than a child seeking comfort.

Since the cab is gone and my reaction caused us to leave in a hurried pace, we walk to the gas station just outside my parents’ neighborhood and wait until a vacant one arrives.

Once in the cab, same sitting order, no one talks. Every few minutes, I feel both sets of eyes on me, but I can’t talk; too many emotions are flooding my senses.

I met my son today.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Ace

CHERRY HASN’T SAID too much since we got back to the hotel. It’s only eight o’clock and Travis is out walking around town, letting off steam. He’s understandably angry after watching Cherry suffer in the company of her mother. He’s never been to Vegas, and I sensed her needing some downtime after all that’s happened today so he left, stating he was going to take in the city that never sleeps. Really, it was his way of giving me time to help her process.

We’re laying down on one of the queen-sized beds in our suite. I’m rubbing her temple as she rests her head on my chest. I had known this was going to be an emotional day. Her dad I was ready for. She told me they had somewhat of a relationship when she was a kid.

I was not ready for that bitch of a mother. When I got in her face, I probably went a little far in threatening her with bodily harm. Using my tattoos and build to intimidate her, I may have asked her how she would like the feeling of being locked in a closet for the remainder of the visit unless she gave her daughter time to meet her son. I’m not sorry I did it.

“He looks good, doesn’t he?” Her voice is tense and full of pain.

Moving the hair from her neck and pushing it to her back, I answer as honestly as I can without hurting her. “He looks happy and healthy, Cherry. Exactly what you wanted for him.”

“Yeah.”

She’s thinking too much, the wheels in her mind racing with doubt as she questions what we’re doing here. I feel it in the tensing pose of her body.

Lifting her head, she pushes on my chest and uses it as a pillar to sit up. “I think I’m gonna take a shower.”

“All right, I’ll be right here.”

Getting up from the bed and kissing me quickly, she finds her bag and rummages through it briefly, gathering what she needs, and walks to the bathroom.

My phone beeps with an incoming message. It’s my sister, no doubt wondering how Cherry is.

Sarah
08:36 p.m.
Hi. Homework done. Bean’s asleep. I’m watching a Gilmore Girls rerun and wondered how Cherry is doing.

My sister and that fuckin’ TV. I’m certain there are worse things she could be doing, but her constant vegetative state annoys me.

Ace
08:39 p.m.
Her name is Raegan to you, and she’s okay.

Sarah
08:40 p.m.
Sorry. Did RAEGAN get to see Decklan?

Her sarcasm is not needed.

Ace
08:41 p.m.
Yes. Go to bed.

Sarah
08:42 p.m.
Geez. Don’t be so bossy. I’ll go after Rory tells her guy to take a hike.

Yes, too much TV. I make a mental note to address this when I get home.

Ace
08:44 p.m.
Goodnight, squirt. See you Sunday night.

Sarah
08:45 p.m.
Goodnight, Aceface. See you then.

A few minutes later, I’m surfing through the channels and I hear a noise coming from the bathroom. Using the remote, I mute the TV and wait. A few seconds of nothing, then I hear it again.

I know exactly what it is.

Moving off the bed, I rush to the bathroom; luckily, she didn’t lock me out. When I make it inside, the sound amplifies. Pushing the shower curtain aside, I find Cherry sitting in the bathtub as the showerhead rains down on her crying face. Once she finds me standing above her, the breaking sobs increase. Shutting off the water, I grab a towel and step inside. Wrapping her up, I gently lift her and carry her to the bed.

Laying her down, I shift her body so her head hits the pillow and take my place on top of her. It’s the only form of protection I can offer her. I can’t heal her inside, so I’m guarding her surroundings the only way I’m able to.

As she clings to my shirt, I let her cry out loud and uninterrupted.

After a few minutes, her sobs subside and she looks to me through her broken form. “I need you to be with me, Ace.”

I know those words. I’m leery, though. She’s fragile and looking for a mindless distraction after the day she’s had. On one hand, I’m thinking I should let her be, quiet her down, and just be here for her. On the other, she could be using me to distract herself or she’s aiming to find security and if I turn her down, it could make this situation worse.

I don’t have long to think since she’s looking at me with those red and swollen eyes, filling with tears. “Okay.”

After taking the towel and drying her off without rushing, I walk to the door and put the ‘do not disturb’ sign out so Travis understands we’re not to be bothered.

Coming back to the room, I notice her eyes remain unfocused as she watches me undress. I climb on the bed, moving the covers briefly then ensuring she’s covered again, my body looming over hers as I stare into her eyes. The room’s lamp is casting a shadow against the wall beside us.

“Are you sure you want this? If you’d rather I just…”

“Kiss me.”

I do and once she releases my mouth, I watch her at the same time I thrust into her. Her neck tilts and a moan of satisfaction at our connection interrupts the room’s quiet mood. Slowly, I begin to make love to her, touching her skin, reminding her through my actions that I’m here with her; never leaving. Kissing her neck softly, I’m telling her it’s okay.

She’s crying as she releases more regret and sadness.

Knowing her body as well I as do, I lift her thighs further up my hips for deeper penetration. She wraps her legs around my waist, locking us together with her ankles. I use this to my advantage and within a few thrusts, she’s screaming through her climax. Moments later, I still inside her and finish my own.

Just as we’re about to settle, I hear the heavy knock on the door and following that, I hear Trav’s voice bellowing through it. I can hear his slurring from here even through the heavy wood. To avoid him waking anyone on the floor who’s trying to sleep, I sit up quickly and when I do, I hear a small giggle burst out from behind me. Cherry’s smiling as she sits up and quickly slaps her hands across her face to stop the laugh when she catches that I’m not amused.

Leave it to Travis to make her smile. I hold her, coax her, care for her, and fuck her gently, and yet this moron just has to knock on the door to get the reaction I wish I could have gotten.

Asshole
.

Opening the door in nothing but a towel, I point to the DND sign I had hung earlier. He shrugs through his obvious drunkenness and walks by me into the room.

Spotting Cherry laying in our bed, he mumbles gruffly while removing his shoes in one painful motion after another. “Are you guys fuckin’ at it again? Jesus Christ, I missed the party. I was downstairs…” hiccup “and some crazy” hiccup “bitch wouldn’t get off me so the” hiccup and burp “bartender felt bad and kept serving me free” hiccup and cough “pink drinks.”

Then, with one more look at my underdressed woman, an all-too-familiar sly smile crosses his face. Before I can step between him and Cherry, he flops to his pillow in one fluid movement.

Out cold.
Thank fuck.

She looks to me, I look to her, we both look to him, and she releases a laugh so loud her body shakes, but he doesn’t move at all. “He’s gonna be sick.”

Crawling back into bed after grabbing her nightshirt from the floor and helping her put it on, I explain, “I’m not cleaning it up. Fuck him. Who the fuck gets drunk from suckin’ down pink drinks?”