Chapter 13
Tupperware? More like Tupperwhere. As in: Where the fuck is the fucking lid?
-E-card
Winter
Please. Please. Please.
I repeated continually in my head. I prayed that he would just fucking do it already.
“I told you to stop. You’re going to be fucking damaged and then I won’t get anything for you.” Peter said.
Peter, the best man that I could ask for my sister. Not. How did she not see this in him? The horridness. The evilness that leaked from his pores.
That just made me pull harder. The asshole didn’t deserve anything for me. I felt filthy. I’d made a vow to Jack, and now I was breaking it by letting this man touch me. It didn’t matter that he was doing it against my will; it was the fact that I wasn’t able to stop it.
What made things worse was seeing my sister high in the corner, off and lost in her own little world.
When she started to come down, Peter would just give her more. This had been going on for three days now, or at least I thought it was three days. It was somewhat hard to tell in this room with no windows. I was just basing it on the number of times they brought me food.
They didn’t want me to be malnourished, because the buyer they had in mind for me wanted a curvy woman.
A hard, open hand slap landed on my right cheek and I gasped. Feeling blood well once again in my mouth, I let it gather before spitting in Peter’s face. He jerked his face back in surprise before reeling back and throwing a punch at my side.
“Oh, bitch. You’re gonna pay. We’ll find another bitch to replace you. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”
Peter said just as he smiled and dealt the punishment of my life.
***
I woke in the middle of the night with a start.
My fingers were rubbing furiously over the long scar on the inside of my left wrist.
Bile burned up my throat and poured out my nose as I threw up all over the bed and myself. Jack was on his feet in the next instant, turning the light on to allow me to see. Getting up carefully, I ran to the bathroom with my hand covering my mouth, and a churning stomach.
Jack lifted my hair off my neck and tied it with a Scrunchie that I’d left on the side of the vanity. Then he left the room, leaving me to my dark thoughts and memories. Jesus Christ. That dream couldn’t be real, could it?
The more I thought about it, the worse my stomach got until I was heaving all over again. This went on for over twenty minutes before Jack finally bent down beside me and rubbed my back. By that point, it was all just dry heaves, but that didn’t stop me from trying to throw up my stomach lining.
Turning on the shower with my stomach still revolting, I washed until my skin was pink. Surveying my body, I started to think about the dream, and where each and every scar came from. I’d originally thought it was from being hit by a car after I’d been dumped, but these weren’t just scars anymore. I knew the story behind them now; how each and every bone was broken. Why my face was a shattered mess.
The bathroom door opened, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to avoid the conversation for as long as possible. However, Jack didn’t have the patience, and he asked the dreaded question. “What was the dream about?”
“How do you know it was a dream?” I asked as I cranked the water up higher.
“You were yelling out about cutting someone’s dick off with nail clippers, and wishing that your dream catcher was there to shove that whiskey bottle up his ass.” He said dryly.
I remembered that part, too. I still wasn’t going to tell him about it right now though. I didn’t want him to freak out. Especially since I was still missing some of the details. Mainly, I knew what happened up until the point he’d inserted himself between my thighs. I didn’t know what happened after that, and I wouldn’t say a word about it until I knew the rest. I wouldn’t do that to him. Wouldn’t force him to think about what might have happened.
“I don’t remember. All I remember is a bad dream. Then I woke up puking on myself.”
I grabbed my toothbrush and started brushing furiously. I hated throwing up.
He looked at me as if he knew I was lying, but I wasn’t budging on this. My fingers found the length of my scar again, and Jack’s eyes dropped to study the movement. His jaw tensed, but he didn’t ask; I didn’t tell. I wasn’t ready to tell yet. May never be.
“Did you call Allen?” He asked instead of pursuing the topic.
I grimaced. It’d been two weeks since CC had stabbed me in the leg. The men, Elliott and James in particular, were calling the woman who stabbed me a ‘Crazy Cunt.’ Instead of continuing to use that word, all the women had started using CC, because cunt just didn’t sound good coming out of anybody’s mouth, especially a woman’s.
“Yeah. I’m starting tomorrow. I’ll need to borrow your truck though.” I said as I hopped out of the shower and reached for a towel.
My back was to Jack, but I turned my head and watched him watch me. He followed each stroke of the towel as it dried the water droplets on my body. Heat flared in his eyes, and I bent over to dry my legs and feet. Bending over, I gave him a direct line to the goods, and his control snapped.
Taking two giant steps forward, he hooked an arm around my waist and hefted me up in his arms. I thought he was going to take a shortcut and just go for it on the vanity, but he showed his iron control and took me to the bedroom instead.
Tossing me, I landed on the bed with a muttered “oomph.”
I was happy to notice that the sheets had been changed out with my favorite soft ones. Otherwise, that would have been a big ewww. Puke is gross.
He followed me down and dove head first into my slick heat. Each hand traveled up from where he was holding my legs open, at the knees; all the way up until he held each of my lower lips apart with his thumbs. It gave him easier access to my core.
Stiffening his tongue, he used it to fuck me. In and out, over and over. By the time he was lifting his head, I was a whimpering mess. I wanted his rock hard cock inside me now. Then I wanted him to fuck my so hard the fitted sheet came off the mattress.
“Fuck me. Hard.” I demanded with a growl.
His eyes lit and he grabbed ahold of my hips, flipping me over so my face was buried in the mattress. “Ass in the air.”
I obeyed, and got to my knees and elbows, wriggling my ass at him. Another growl from him had me practically panting and begging him to fill me. “Please.”
The bed dipped behind me, and it wasn’t long until the coarse hairs of his legs rubbed against mine, as he straddled my legs. His cock poked me as he got into position behind me, and I gritted my teeth, trying my hardest not to grind against him.
I squeezed my eyes shut as he ran his finger from my perineum down to my clit, and gave it a flick. Need shot through my body and I was done. Seeing I had to take things into my own hands if I wanted him to stop going slow, I went down from my elbows to my shoulders, face flat against the mattress. Reaching my hand between my legs, I found his thigh and traveled north until I encountered his balls.
Gently cupping them in my hand, I gave them a light squeeze. When I still didn’t get the response I wanted, I gave a rougher squeeze, and started to pull gently forward. Which meant that if he didn’t want balls to be pulled, he had to come closer.
He came closer.
When the head of his cock made contact with my wetness, he seemed to lose whatever control he’d been holding back with.
His knuckles grazed mine as he grasped his cock, lined it up with my entrance and then slammed inside. It was such a hard thrust that my knees left the bed for a few precious moments before they fell back to the mattress when he pulled back.
Letting go of his balls, I dropped my hand to my own body and felt where he entered me. My opening was stretched to the limit with his thick length, and I marveled at the way our bodies fit together so perfectly.
His next thrust didn’t lift me off the mattress, but it did nearly knock the breath out of me, and shoot me from almost there, to there in that one single plunge. My eyelids slammed shut and I bit the comforter in hopes that I would stifle the scream that poured out of me. Wouldn’t be good to wake Tai up this early, seeing as it was only two in the morning.
Jack’s rhythmic pounding turned sporadic and desperate as he searched for a release of his own. Grunting and groaning, he let out a guttural “Fuck!” and dropped.
My knees went out beneath me, pinning my hand underneath my hips, still feeling the connection of our bodies. Unintentionally, I started rubbing, liking the tingles that shot through my still throbbing body as the heel of my hand came in contact with my clit.
I could feel Jack’s cock surge back to life inside of me as he felt what I was doing, but just as he got back up to his elbows and gave that first long delicious slide out of my body, his cell phone rang from the night stand.
He ignored it.
Lifting my left leg and wrapping it around his hip, he surged impossibly deeper.
“Fuck.” He drawled out as he moved in and out.
His entry was slicker this time, due to both of our releases. It felt hotter this way. More naughty. More erotic.
Our lovemaking was just that, making love. This wasn’t sex, or fucking. This was coming together, being one, in its truest form.
By the time we both found our releases, we were exhausted. Pulling out slowly, I grimaced at the wetness between my thighs. The thought was fleeting though, because I was just plain exhausted. After a twenty-four hour shift, throwing my guts up for thirty minutes, and then the last hour of vigorous sex at nearly two in the morning, I was just plain done.
I was in the in between state of awake and asleep when the vibrating of Jack’s phone started again for the fifteenth time. I buried my face into the clean comforter, vaguely remembering Jack ask me what I’d done with the spares while I was puking.
The bed shifted behind me, and Jack’s gravelly voice answered with a rough grunt of “Hello.”
Jack’s body tensed behind me, and I knew he was going to go. Something was wrong, but I just didn’t have the strength to care. “I’ll come up there and take a look.”
Jack moved from the bed and then pulled what felt like a t-shirt over my head before covering me back up with the covers. I murmured a sleepy “thanks” into my pillow.
Then I was asleep.
***
I felt the covers shift behind me, but not the jostle of Jack getting back in bed.
Cracking my eyes open, I glanced at the clock on the nightstand, but didn’t move anything but my lids. Seeing that it was three after four in the morning, I was drifting back to sleep when a hand found its way into my hair. Instead of being gentle, the hand took a firm grip and yanked.
I woke to a hundred percent alertness. Every trace of sleep was knocked out of my system so brutally that I was hyper aware of my surroundings. That’s how I found myself with my arm up behind Jack’s pillow palming the .40 caliber Glock that he kept there at all times.
I contemplated my options. I knew I was going to shoot him, but with it being so dark, I couldn’t exactly see where he was. I knew it was a man by the sheer bulk of his body. He was pinning me to the bed with his massive chest over mine. Then I decided that it didn’t matter if I could see him, only that I could feel him.
“Remember me, sweetheart?” A voice asked.
My blood ran cold, but I didn’t have any hesitation left in me after hearing that voice. I brought my knee up to get his attention from the movement of my arm, and just as he shifted his weight to counter my movement, I moved.
Remembering what Jack told me about the trigger safety on Glocks, I moved the gun to his chest and fired.
‘Aim to kill. Squeeze lightly. Every last fucking one.’ I repeated the mantra as I unloaded the whole clip into the man lying on top of me. His body jerked. Blood splattered my face and covered my body as I shot him through the heart. No hesitation. I knew if I didn’t kill him, I’d be screwed.
Especially since he got to me in the first place. Which meant he snuck in here, or hurt Jack, because Jack would never let anyone hurt me. Would never even let them within fifty feet of me.
The gun’s hammer made a click as it ran out of bullets to fire, and the silence in the room was deafening. My ears were ringing from the sharp barks of the Glock firing the rounds and the man’s dead weight held me tight to the bed.
Feeling positively claustrophobic, I kicked with everything I had and finally managed to kick the body to the floor. My heart was pounding, and the all too familiar bile was burning a path up my throat again.
The front door slammed against the living room wall just as I managed to fall out of bed and puke on Jack’s side. The lights were on in the next instant, and I looked up over the bed to see Gabe in his underwear, nice underwear that hugged his body like a fucking glove, standing in the doorway of my room aiming his gun at the dead body.
I let a semi-hysterical laugh out that I was even thinking about Gabe’s underwear at a time like this.
As he saw my movement, his gun moved to me, but just as quickly moved away again. Then he took in the rest of the room. I did too.
Blood was splattered across the bedroom wall directly behind where I’d been facing earlier. It was also on the ceiling, the nightstand, the lampshade, the bed, and most assuredly, all over me.
“Jesus Christ,” he hissed and then lowered his weapon.
“Clear!” I heard called from the back bedroom.
Elliott.
“I’m okay.” Tai said, shakily, from the same direction.
“Get out of the fucking way!” Jack roared from behind Gabe.
Gabe moved quickly, and then Jack was on me, pulling me up with him.
“What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?” He finished on a yell, big body shaking.
Kodiak crowded in at my side and offered me silent comfort; only it didn’t help this time, and I wasn’t sure what would.
Gentle fingers pried the gun from my hand, and I looked over to see Gabe beside me peeling the Glock from my tight grasp.
It took just about everything I had to let it go, but I did.
“Call Luke.” Sam said from the doorway.
I looked up and saw that Sam, too, was here. He was also wearing little to nothing; although, he was wearing a pair of gym shorts. They hung indecently low on his hips and showed off that perfect body that I always heard Cheyenne talk about.
Then there was Elliott, who was wearing a pair of boxer briefs that said ‘Take me to your beaver’ on them. My mind must have slipped because all I could do was laugh, and then I was laughing so hard I was shaking and coughing with tears in my eyes.
Everyone saw the direction of my gaze, but not one man was laughing. They all were highly pissed. So pissed that if they could produce steam, they’d be able to power a locomotive with it.
Not that that sobered me any. I wasn’t in the right state of mind. I’d just killed a man, and I was happy about it. Which couldn’t be normal, right?
***
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Blaine asked from beside me.
I looked over and smiled slightly at her. My eyes traveled to the sleeping baby she had snugged against her chest, and my mood lightened some.
“I’m okay. I’m just ready to go back to bed.”
“You probably won’t be able to go back there for a while. You’re going to have to bunk with one of us.” Cheyenne supplied from the kitchen.
We were at Cheyenne’s place. Not for a particular reason or anything. Only that she had the most kids, and it was easier to bring everyone over here, rather than her to take all three of hers somewhere else.
All the wives were here, as well as the children. They didn’t want us to be alone after the breach into the compound, and felt more comfortable with us all in one place where they could keep an eye on us.
Trying to change the direction of my thoughts, I turned back to Blaine and finally asked what I’d been thinking about a lot in the past four hours. “What the hell is going on with Elliott’s boxers?”
Blaine burst out laughing and jostled Justin until he woke. The first thing he did was grin, and the action was so much like his father that I just couldn’t hold the giggles in anymore.
“Th-they c-came in wearing nothing but underwear,” I said, swiping the tears that were leaking from my eyes. “Gabe came in wearing a b-black p-pair of boxer briefs and a big ass gun. Then Elliott had to one up him and come in wearing those g-green boxers that said ‘Take me to your beaver.’ His gun was bigger, too!”
Everyone was laughing their asses off when Blaine finally explained. “When we met, I was seventeen and he was twenty. He was serving his tour of duty in Afghanistan at the time. I asked him if he needed anything, and he said he needed some new underwear, and he didn’t like boxers anymore. Knowing the weather over there was brutal, I tried to find him ones that were durable, yet comfortable. I started looking on the internet and found a website where they sell all these funny underwear. The rest is history. As you can see, I created a monster.”
“How they can get any funnier, I don’t know.” Ember mused as she shifted her son to the couch and stood.
“Oh, the ones he likes the most say, “Release the Kraken.”
Coffee burned my nose as I snorted in amusement. Setting the cup down, I wiped my mouth with the sleeve of Sam’s sweatshirt that Cheyenne had let me borrow. Jack probably wouldn’t like it, but it’s not like I had many options in clothing choices when my room was a crime scene.
“How did you two meet?” I asked her, as I went to the kitchen and got a wet towel to clean my mess.
Blaine’s smile was wistful. “I met him my senior year of high school. I’d just gotten my driver’s license the week before, so I, of course, was out joy riding on the back roads. My truck was an old Chevy Silverado. That truck was my dream truck,” She paused for a sip of coffee and then continued. “Any who, I came around a curve and a ten point buck was standing in the curve of the road. Elliott was coming in the opposite direction, and there was nowhere for me to go but off the road. That or hit the deer. Either choice wouldn’t have ended well for me. I chose off the road.”
“So, Elliott came to your rescue?” I asked.
Justin started fishing down the inside of Blaine’s shirt and came out with her phone. Smiling in glee, he immediately shoved it in his mouth. Blaine pried it away gently and then laughed.
“You could say he saved me. My truck was wrapped around a tree, and I was stuck in the truck because my door wouldn’t budge. I was bound and determined to shoot the buck though. I’d at least have something to show for the mess I’d made of my truck. I also had a concussion, and I wasn’t thinking very straight. Elliott came to ask me if I was alright, but stopped when he saw me backing out of the truck window with a machete in my hand. From what he’s told me, I was going to kill the deer and mount his head on my truck.”
“Oh, that’s not all. The little devil actually made it about a four hundred meters or so before I decided she was serious. Then I had to go chase her down. That’s when I saw the big cut on the rear of her neck that was soaking the back of her t-shirt with blood. She asked me to stay with her as she passed out, and I haven’t left her since.” Elliott said from the doorway.
We all turned and saw Elliott leaning against the door jam. He was, at least, better dressed this time in worn blue jeans and a black sweatshirt. Black hat with his glasses resting on the bill. “Glad to see you covered up a little bit.”
He smiled in my direction, and I admired how hot he was.
“Well, that’s probably the last time, so I hope you enjoyed it.”
Oh, I’d enjoyed it all right. It was also why I was still holding it together so well. I’d needed that release of laughter and joy at the time when I’d just taken a man’s life. I hadn’t wanted to think about what I’d just done, and he had offered a great distraction.
I smiled at him, but didn’t agree or disagree.
A baby cried from the direction of the back of the house, and I saw Cheyenne look at her watch, and then back down at the eggs she was making. “You want me to go get her?” I asked Cheyenne as I entered the kitchen.
“Would you please? I’m almost done. She’s going to need her diaper changed. She has the bladder of an adult male, and pisses like one too.”
Heading into the back hallway, I followed the sound of crying until I came to the last door on the right. Opening the door, I saw Phoebe jumping up and down in her crib. When she saw me, her hands immediately went in the air for me to pick her up. Obeying her silent order, I lifted her high in the air; that’s when I spotted the ornament hanging from the ceiling.
A dream catcher.
One that looked hauntingly familiar. One that had such beautiful detail that it took my breath away. One that Jack had made by hand.
He’d been doing it when I came over to his apartment our first night together. I’d watched him for hours as he worked on it and we talked, and laughed. He gave it to me when he was done; it was the same one he hung in his room above his bed right now.
I hadn’t seen him make any in the last month and a half, which is why it was surprising to me to see his work hanging in Phoebe’s room. “Well, you have a special gift watching over you, don’t you sweetheart?”
Phoebe’s chubby cheeks dimpled as she grinned. Laying her down on the changing table, I made quick work of changing her diaper and brought her out to the living room to join the party.
“Do you ladies need anything?” Elliott asked, giving his wife a quick peck on the lips.
‘No’s’ were said all around, and he nodded his head before turning to me. “Feel up to making a report?”
No. Not even a little bit. “Sure.”
“Good girl. Let’s go. They’re up in the garage office.” He said, holding out his crooked arm in a courteous gesture.
“Take me to your leader.” I said with a dry tone.
It wasn’t until I said it that it had a double meaning. He just laughed, as did everyone else, as we left Sam’s house. “This is just routine. They won’t be taking you in or anything. It’s very obvious that it was self-defense. Tell the truth. Luke’s the one taking the statement.”
Kodiak followed closely at my heels, having never left me for a minute since I’d shot someone for the first time in my life.
I nodded, but didn’t say anything. I also didn’t look at the million police cars that clogged the lot and surrounded our place.
“I think, after you’re done, you need to get Jack out of here for a little while. Take him to a hotel for the night.” Elliott said just before he opened the door.
I studied him for a few moments, noticing the lines that bracketed his face. “Thank you for taking care of him for me.” I whispered and then patted his face before walking through the door.
Jack was the first person I sought out when I entered the room. He wasn’t paying attention though. His face was buried in his hands. His elbows rested on his knees, holding his face up.
He looked dejected. Like a swift wind would blow him over, and I knew he needed me.
Walking to him, I pulled his hands from his face and sat in his lap before he could protest. As his arms wrapped around me, I closed my eyes and sunk into his embrace. His hands found their way up underneath the sweatshirt, and splayed across the bare skin of my stomach, pulling my closer.
I glanced around the room and noted that Luke, as well as his partner Downy, were there. There was also a new guy I hadn’t met yet, but he didn’t look very happy to be there, and I knew instantly that I didn’t like him.
His badge was clipped to his hip as Luke and Downy’s were, but instead of the jeans and KPD t-shirt that they were wearing, he had a suit on. It was also uglier than ass.
“Ms. Stoker,” the man started, but I interrupted him.
“Mrs. Stoker.” I forced out through gritted teeth.
Kodiak growled at the detective. He stepped back in response to the obvious threat that Kodiak represented. My restraining hand on his collar stopped the advancement and the growl, but it didn’t stop the death glare he was giving him.
“Mrs. Stoker, I’m Detective Pierson Howell. My associates and I will be asking a few questions about tonight’s events.” He stated, and then proceeded to question me like a criminal.
Jack’s arms got tighter and tighter on me until he was squeezing me so hard that I was panting for breath. Patting his arm with my hand, he got the hint and loosened his tight hold.
“Detective Howell, I’ve already answered all of your questions. Now, it’s been a long six hours, and I’m ready for a nap. If you have no new further questions, I’d like to ask you to leave.” I said, interrupting the question he was in the process of asking me for the third time.
Luke hid a smile behind his raised fist, and Downy turned away to study the wall of pictures that collected on the back wall anytime someone got some developed.
They wall was actually pretty darn cool. A smorgasbord of everyone’s family. Cute things the kids got into. Horrid things they got into, too. Like Piper and Pru covered in poop standing in their cribs with happy, accomplished smiles on their faces.
The newest one was of Jack and me kissing, recreating the one on his bike that we’d originally created seven years ago. That one was my favorite.
Detective Howell cleared his throat bringing my attention back to him. “Don’t leave town.” He said as he stomped out of the office and to his car.
Kodiak followed him until the door closed between them, stopping his forward progression. It didn’t stop the mean look he gave the interloper, nonetheless.
“Alright, now that the douchebag is gone, how about you tell me how you know this guy.” Luke said breaking the silence.
I turned to him and studied his determined expression. Luke was a good, fair cop. He would do his job, but watch out for the people that needed protecting in the process.
Clutching Jack’s hands in mine, I explained. “I had a dream tonight about being abducted,” I stopped when Jack’s body tensed behind mine. “The man that I shot was the brother of the man who abducted me seven years ago. Benjamin Clayton. They were talking about selling me and already having a buyer.”
Jack’s head fell to my shoulder, and the desperation in his touch was back. “Fuck.” He rasped.
“I pissed him off though. Woke up just after he told me they could find someone to replace me.”
My eyes flicked from one man to the other, and a common theme was on each one of their faces.
Rage.