Maci
I sat beside my mom’s bed. She lay unmoving, same as the previous five days. ALS was a bitch—a royal asshole that had been slowly taking her from me. One walk at a time. One smile. One word, until nothing remained of the woman I used to know.
She’d refused a ventilator early on, letting me know she would go when her body wanted to. Hospice had taken over, so it was only a matter of time before I would take care of her final wishes.
I’d cried all the tears. Dealt with the grief I’d been facing—dreading—since Mom’s diagnosis years earlier. She’d lasted a hell of a lot longer than expected, for which I was glad, but…
I needed a fucking break, and the guilt over my selfish thought twisted my stomach.
Hanging with Capone the week before had been rejuvenating, a couple nights that had given me hope life would go on once Mom died. Not just the fucking, but the promise I’d seen in his friend’s eyes. The connection I’d felt to a man I didn’t even know.
Capone had texted me a handful of times wanting to hook up again, but without going into detail beyond Mom being sick, I’d turned him down.
Being a caretaker sucked ass. Bad enough Dad had been taken from us years earlier than expected. My sister found herself a wealthy young Californian. She had lit out for the west coast once I’d assured her I could care for Mom on my own.
At least one of us could have a happy, carefree life. I’d made the call a few days earlier, telling her to come home if she wanted to have the chance to tell Mom goodbye.
I slid my gaze down over Mom’s supine, shrunken form. Pink fluffy, her favorite fleece blanket lay over her legs and tucked around her waist. Gurgling noises sounded as her chest struggled to rise. Blue lips parted, she let out little exhales of breath her body managed to suck in. Morphined as much as possible, she wouldn’t feel death settle over her. At least she lay in her own bed, in the apartment that I would soon find lonesome—especially since her passing would offer me freedom.
Again, the guilt festered. Ate away at my stomach.
I prayed to fucking God that I didn’t end up like her when my time came, an invalid in need of constant care. A burden, stealing someone else’s life along with mine. A grimace twisted my mouth—stealing? My head sure knew how to be a selfish bitch sometimes. And, a burden? My eyes burned, and I whispered an apology to Mom in my mind.
I held her thin, cold hand, my gaze on her chest. Time between breaths lengthened as I fought off my demons. I glanced over at my younger sister, who held Mom’s other hand. At least she had a fiancé to see her through the grief on our horizon.
“I’m going to get some coffee,” she murmured. “Want some?”
“Nah.”
A spitting image of me, Mari had been mistaken for my twin more often than not even though I had five years on her. Once she quietly shut the bedroom door, I squeezed Mom’s hand and leaned down to talk in her ear.
“Quit fighting, Mom.” I struggled for a smile even though she hadn’t opened her eyes in over five days. Damn woman defined the word stubborn. “Mari and I will be all right. We’ll get through together.” Swallowing against the tears, I shifted on the chair, needing to tell her what I’d been holding in until Mari left me alone with her. My sister wouldn’t have agreed with my thoughts. “It’s okay to go,” I whispered, my gaze caressing Mom’s face, knowing my words didn’t come out of selfishness. “I love you.”
A shuddering sigh rippled past her lips. I stared at her chest for a full minute before drawing a breath of my own and leaning down to kiss her cool forehead. “Fly free, Mom.”
I inhaled until it hurt. “Mari?” My voice broke as I called out for my sister.
She rushed into the room, her gaze flying to our mother. “Oh, Mom…” Tears coursed down her cheeks, and I stood to pull her into my arms.
****
The coroner took Mom’s body away. She wanted to be cremated, her ashes scattered around the lake where we’d gone camping as a family before cancer had taken Dad ten years earlier. I’d promised to do as she’d asked, but didn’t think Mari would be up for a camping trip. With it being so damn cold, we’d have to wait on those plans anyway.
Six on a Friday night, and I sat alone in the apartment I’d shared with Mom for the previous five years since her diagnosis. Every trace of medical equipment had been sent off, all of Mom’s things boxed up by the front door, ready to be donated to the Red Cross.
My first moment to myself in a long damn time. A moment to breathe.
An incoming text dinged my phone, and I lifted my head off the back of the couch.
Capone: Got any plans for tonight?
I snorted. Getting drunk and forgetting life.
Capone: Sounds like fun!!
I chewed the inside of my lip, contemplating. Less than a week after Mom’s death, and all I wanted to do was party the night away in hopes of numbing the grief shrouding my life. “As if anyone would care,” I muttered, my fingers flying over the screen. Care to join me?
Capone: I already have plans. How about you join ME?
What kind of plans, I texted.
Capone: The secretive type
A lick of adrenaline seeped into my blood stream, reminding me I still lived. Count me in.
Capone: I’ll pick you up at 8
Me: CU then
Tossing my phone onto the couch, I pulled myself off the cushion, thrilled to have something other than sadness to focus on. A glass of wine in the bath tub, a few swipes of makeup, skinny jeans, and boots… I couldn’t be more ready for a break.
****
Capone knocked on the door right at eight. My panties didn’t melt at his smile—if I’d been wearing any. I wished like hell I felt something as he grabbed me around the waist and planted one on me.
His eyes twinkled in the hallway’s light. “Hey.”
“Hey back,” I said with a smile, pulling the door shut behind me. “Where we headed tonight?”
Capone took my hand and pulled me down the apartment building’s stoop and into the frigid night. “To fulfill a couple of your fantasies.”
One of my eyebrows popped up as another lick of adrenaline kicked in, warming me through. “Oh?”
He pulled open the passenger door of his truck, his grin widening. “Remember Digger?”
Do I. “Yes.”
“We’re heading to his place.”
“A Gliders party?” I asked while sliding onto the seat.
“Nope.” The smile dissolved as lust replaced the twinkle in his eyes. “Party of three—if you’re interested.”
My nipples tightened, and I squeezed my thighs together, my grief taking a backseat. “Hell, yes.”
“Thank fuck,” Capone said with a wink. He shut the door and rounded the front of the truck.
I smiled for real while clicking in the seatbelt. Fuck, yes. Blondy with the body. Blondy with the intense gaze, the sexy scar keeping a badass scowl etched on his face.
Party of three…
Threesome, for sure. Ropes? A little spanking? I wracked my brain for what else I might have told Capone about the fantasies in my head, but couldn’t remember for the life of me.
“Ready to party?” he asked, climbing into the cab and flooding the air with the spice of his cologne.
“You have no idea.” And he didn’t. I hadn’t told him the specifics about Mom’s illness or even about her death. Wasn’t about to put a damper on the night by letting out all the shit of the previous five years. “What’s on the agenda for the night?”
He glanced my way, his gaze serious. “Trust me?”
“I barely know you.”
“You spilled a few secrets on our last date. Figured now that I finally got you to go out with me again, I’d show you that I know how to satisfy a woman’s cravings.”
“Awfully confident.”
Capone shrugged.
“So,” I said. “Digger.”
“What about him?”
I angled on the seat as far as the seatbelt allowed. “You tell me.”
“Whatcha want to know?”
“He’s your brother, so I’m sure you trust him.”
“I do.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip for a few seconds while studying his face in the passing street lights. “You’ve shared women before, you said. That ever cause problems?”
“Like what?”
“You both fall for the same woman.”
He chuckled. “No need to worry about that. Digger won’t ever tie himself down to one woman.”
Wasn’t exactly the answer I’d been looking for.
“What’s on your mind, Maci?”
I heaved a breath. “Just thinking about the dynamic of a threesome. Honestly, I have no fucking clue how to think or act.”
“You won’t have to do anything, and as for thinking, we’ll take good care of you. Make you forget your own name.”
I huffed a nervous laugh. “Awfully confident,” I said again.
“Damn right.” He winked, sending a pulse through my pussy.
Shit. How I wished it was his action that had caused my arousal, but it was the thought of the man waiting for us. “Digger knows we’re coming?”
“Was his idea.”
“Damn,” I whispered.
Capone shot a glance across the cab as a street light illuminated his face. “Hot for my brother?”
I bit back a smirk and shrugged one shoulder.
“I know you want him. Could tell that night I introduced you two at the club.” No hint of jealousy laced his voice—thank God. If he didn’t mind sharing, I sure as fuck was ready to go.