Shared by the Firefighters: An MFM Firefighter Novella by Eddie Cleveland (28)

“No, thank you. I just want you,” I confess.

He happily jumps back into the bed with me, pulling the sheets and blanket over us. He wraps his arms around me tight.

I feel like a new person, like an entire world has been opened up to me as I practically glow in his arms. I know I can’t stay here too much longer, but I just can’t force myself to leave. Not yet anyway. I just need some time to relax against his chest. To bury in his arms, which make the outside world obsolete, bringing me peace. I snuggle into him, relaxing as I let my eyes slide closed for a few moments.

Just for a few moments.

* * *

A warm streak of sunlight bathes my skin as I raise up my arms, reaching my fingertips up to the ceiling in a long, full-body stretch. The constant hum of anxiety that buzzes in the back of my mind is quiet, giving the first true morning of peace that I’ve had in over six years. I roll over, letting my smile kiss the pillow, and my hand presses flat against the soft hairs on his chest as I breathe in his masculinity.

“Well, good morning.” Jackson’s voice is gruff like sandpaper, snapping me out of my dream-like haze and back into my panic-stricken reality.

“Morning?” I pop up like a jack-in-the-box, cursing the same sunlight that only seconds ago I was loving so much.

“Yeah, why? Do you have to be somewhere?” Jackson sits up beside me, slowly kissing my shoulder as I pull the sheets up over my naked body. “’Cause, if you don’t, I can think of something to start your day off right,” he teases me.

“No, no, no!” I freak out, looking over at the alarm clock next to the bed for confirmation of what I already know. Sure enough, its bright numbers tell me it’s six-thirty. And I’m six and a half hours late for my curfew.

“Okay, so you’re not a morning sex person. I get that.” Jackson rubs his thumb down my arm. “How about some breakfast first, maybe a couple cups of coffee to wake us up?”

Tears form in my eyes as I try not to hyperventilate. “You don’t understand. I need to get to work right now. I’m so late. Oh God, what am I going to do?” I hop out of bed and scour the floor for the clothes I wore last night.

I manage to find my bra next to the bed and get it clipped up. I walk around in a circle searching for my underwear before realizing they’re rolled up inside my jeans. A hot flush breaks over me as I remember how incredible it felt when he pulled them off me. There’s no time for this! I rush over and grab my pants, tugging my underwear free, and start sliding my clothes on.

“Hey, people are late sometimes. It’s no big deal.” Jackson tries to soothe me, but it’s no use.

I’m sure he’s right. I’m sure that, for normal people, being late isn’t the end of the world. But normal people don’t have a boss who has the power to have them deported back to a life of danger and possibly death.

“Jackson,” I snap and his mouth opens, his eyes narrowing on me, “it’s a huge deal for me. I don’t have time to get into it. Is there any way you can drive me? I need to go to Clifton Street. It’s right by the fairgrounds. You know what?” I look at his stunned, stony face and decide there’s no way he’s going to get me there in time. “Never mind, can you just call me a cab? I’m sorry, but I really have to go.” I know I don’t have any money to pay a cabbie with, but I can’t worry about that detail right now.

“Whoa, slow down, Ella. You don’t need to take a cab, I can drive you. Just chill, you’re spinning like a top. Take a breath. No job is worth this kind of stress.” He shakes his head and hops out of bed, grabbing his clothes. “Let me wake up Chloe and we can get moving.” He sounds annoyed with me, but it’s just one more thing I don’t have time to worry about right now.

“Thank you. Please hurry,” I beg him and he looks over his shoulder at me before leaving the room like he doesn’t understand what I’ve transformed into. I can’t blame him. It’s not like me to be demanding or so brusque. If he knew how much trouble I’m in right now, if he understood the anvil hanging over my head by a thread, he wouldn’t look at me like that.

But how can I ever explain that to him? I can’t tell him my status. I can’t risk it. I just need to be the bad guy right now and get my butt back to Sylvia’s. My only hope is that she passed out on the couch and I can sneak in. She’s not exactly an early riser, after the amount of ‘night caps’ she pounds back each evening. She rarely gets up before nine, so there’s a slight chance that she might not even know I didn’t meet her curfew.

Jackson goes into Chloe’s room and I can hear her cheerfully greet him as he wakes her up. “Come on, honey, I’ve got to take Ella home and then I’m gonna take you out for a super special breakfast,” he promises her.

“Ohhh! Is it pancakes?” I can hear the excitement in her voice. “I loooove pancakes.” She thuds her feet on the floor as she jumps out of bed.

“You’ll have to wait and see,” he answers. “Let’s get you changed and we’ll go, okay?”

I hate that I’m in this stupid position. I hate that I couldn’t just wake up this morning and enjoy the moment of lying next to a man so kind, yet so sexy, he’s unlike anyone I’ve ever even dared to dream of. I would have loved to take Jackson up on his offer as he was kissing my shoulder softly. Now this is all just one more thing tainted by Sylvia.

Pushing back my tears, I run my hands over my hair, snaking my fingers through the long strands like a makeshift comb as I walk out of Jackson’s room and head downstairs. I slip my shoes back on and wait in the front entryway for them impatiently, knowing I look like a total asshole, but also knowing that as each moment passes my chances of getting out of this without any terrible repercussions is growing faint.

“Hey, Ella.” Chloe waves at me enthusiastically, a huge smile exposing all her teeth as she climbs down the stairs toward me.

“Good morning, beautiful.” I force the fear from my tone. I refuse to let this terrible feeling growing inside me to spill over onto this angelic child.

“Okay, let’s just grab our shoes and go.” Jackson gives me a pointed stare, making it clear that this was never part of his plan when he invited me over here.

I try not to rush out to the car, not to sigh when he helps Chloe into her seat, to keep my lips sealed and my panic under lock and key. It feels like the two of them are moving at such a sluggish pace, like I’m watching a slow motion film… in a pool… of molasses. Finally, when I feel like if it takes a single second longer I’m not going to be able to contain my screams, Jackson sits in the driver’s seat and starts the car.

“Where did you say you need to go again?” he asks through clenched teeth.

I know I’ve upset him by putting him out like this, but what else could I do? I should’ve taken a cab. Why didn’t he just let me leave that way?

“It’s a left at the intersection,” I answer feebly, staring down at my hands and wishing that somehow the universe could just swallow me whole. Wishing I hadn’t messed up the first relationship I’ve ever had with a man who only last night I gave my body to. Wishing these circumstances weren’t my own and that, for once, I had the same freedom to live and love as anyone else.

* * *

I pull up to the imposing house in a swanky neighborhood full of oversized, sprawling houses. Shaking my head, I already know exactly what kind of people live here without even needing to meet them. I bet most of these mansions are filled with childless couples that don’t even know how to use all the rooms they have.

It reminds me of when I was in the military and you’d meet guys who were always trying to have a pissing contest with you. Without fail, every single time, those were the guys who quit the courses or had to leave deployments early. It’s always the small dogs that have to yap the most. The big dogs already know what they’re capable of, they don’t need to prove it to anyone.

“I’m so sorry about all of this. I hate to put you out and to rush away. I hope you’ll give me a chance to explain someday.” Ella unbuckles her seatbelt and throws herself out the door before I’ve even fully stepped on the brake. I swear she would’ve tucked and rolled out of the car door if it would shave off a few seconds.

I have no idea what’s going on with her. At the fair and last night, she was such a sweet woman. Now she’s acting like a fugitive on the run. Twitchy, paranoid, and freaking out about being late.

Maybe she is married. If she has an angry husband waiting for her in there, it might explain her erratic behavior. As if to confirm my suspicion, a man around my age, with no shirt on, walks out the front door and starts yelling at Ella.

“Daddy, who’s that?” Chloe asks, watching the drama unfold from the backseat.

“I don’t know, honey,” My heart sinks as I refuse to share my theory with my four-year-old.

I could punch Ryan in the face right now. He’s been using Tinder for a long time. He must have known I would likely meet up with some woman in this kind of situation. I grind my teeth, angry that I fell for her lies. Why did she go out of her way to tell me she was a virgin if she’s got this guy at home? Heat flashes up over my neck as I remember the way she seemed genuinely offended when I straight out asked her if she was married.

I throw the car in reverse, eager to put as much distance between myself and the woman I was opening my heart to. All of a sudden, the shaggy blond-haired man grabs Ella roughly by the arm and wrenches it up tight over her head. Tears stream down her face as she cries out in pain.

Fuck that. Married or not, I’m not going to let her go home to some kind of abusive asshole. I jam the gear back into park. “I’ll be right back. Play your caterpillar game.” I hand off my cell phone to my daughter, inviting her to get a rare amount of screen time enjoying her favorite kids game so she won’t watch what I’m about to do to this man.

“Hey, get your hands off her,” I snap, slamming the car door behind me.

“Who the fuck are you?” He squints at me. “Ella, who the hell is this guy?” he demands, shaking her arm as she yelps.

“I’m gonna be the guy who beats your ass if you don’t let go of her right now,” I promise him through gritted teeth and he immediately drops his hand from her.

Just when I think I’ve got this whole situation summarized, the front door opens again and a woman in her late thirties or early forties steps outside, wrapping a silk robe around her tight.

“Ella, what did I tell you about missing curfew? You’re lucky I don’t throw you out on the street, especially after making such a scene with poor Raymond.” She walks her fingers across the man’s back and I do a double take.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Sylvia. I can explain,” Ella manages to sputter through her tears.

Okay, so that’s not her husband. So who the hell are these people? Is this really just a couple she works for? All the anger I had toward Ella and the betrayal I thought she was putting me through comes into a narrow focus on these two assholes treating her like human garbage.

“Ella, you don’t have to put up with this, babe.” I walk closer, but she turns away from me and stares down at her feet. “No job is worth this shit.” I wave my hand at the woman and man. “Come with me. I’ll help you figure this out. Don’t apologize to them.” I hold out my hand, but she never sees it. She refuses to even look at me.

“You better get him out of here, Ella!” The woman hisses, “You’ve caused enough trouble for us.” The edge in her voice tells me there’s a threat I’m not seeing on the surface. On the surface, nothing about this is making much sense at all.

“Jackson, you need to leave,” Ella answers feebly, finally looking over her shoulder, tears slicking down over her honey skin.

“Come on, you can’t seriously work for these two. Let’s just get out of here. I’ll help you figure out another job, Ella.” I shake my head, not believing my ears.

“Just leave!” she screams and I jump at the power and terror in her tone. She turns away again, sobbing, and I frown at the ground, not understanding the hold these two have over her.

“You heard her. If you don’t get off our property, we’ll call the police.” The blond guy smiles smugly at me.

“It’s my property,” the woman corrects him. “Enough of this. Everyone get inside. I’ll deal with you later.” She flicks Ella like an annoying bug and I stand like a statue, dumbfounded by how she’s letting them treat her.

Turning on my heel, I walk back toward the car in a daze. That scream, her telling me to leave, it sounded like she was terrified. What the hell is going on here? I can’t make her come with me. I guess if this is how she chooses to live, then I need to let it go. I can’t be her knight in shining armor, especially when she doesn’t even want one.

I sit back in my car, clicking my seat belt into place, and watch the front door for a moment, half expecting to see her run out to the car. To me. But she doesn’t.

“Daddy, are you upset with Ella?” Chloe drops my phone in the seat.

I watch her big blue eyes looking for answers I don’t have in the rearview mirror.

“No, honey,” I lie. She doesn’t need to know that beneath the surface I’m a wreck. For her, I will be a rock. No matter what.

“I think you are,” she says in a sing-songy voice. “And you know what always makes me feel better when I’m upset, Daddy?”

“What’s that?” I manage to sound a little more chipper this time as I turn and smile at her.

“Ice cream!” she announces, poking her fingers in the air in a little dance. “I have a great idea. How about we get pancakes and ice cream for breakfast?” She looks very proud of herself for coming up with such a genius plan.

I can’t help but laugh at the twinkle in her eyes.

“Let’s see what we can do, Chloe.” I chuckle and start the car.

As I pull out of the driveway and head down the street, I find myself longing for the simplicity of childhood. Back when life was easy and at those rare moments when it wasn’t, ice cream was able to fix all problems. Because knowing that Ella is living like this, and the fact that there’s nothing I can do to help her, is the worst feeling in the world.

* * *

“Miss Sylvia,” I quietly interrupt the blaring commercial as my boss and her man sit together on the couch getting ready for their show to come back on.

She sneers at me with utter disgust. The way she would if she found a roach crawling in her sink. In this house, right now, a roach might get more respect than I do.

“What?” She frowns at me as I tug at the sleeve of my shirt awkwardly.

“I’ve scrubbed all the pots and pans and polished all the silver in your cabinet.” I run through the list of the latest chores. She’s been running me ragged for the last couple of days, trying to punish me for coming back late. I suppose it could be a lot worse. So much worse that I’ve just kept my mouth shut and done exactly what she’s told me to. “May I go to bed now?”

“Bed? This early?” She looks at her wristwatch. “Did you finish the laundry?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I nod.

“Did you wash the bathroom down?”

“I did,” I answer simply.

“And the garbage is out by the curb?”

“It is.”

Sylvia pauses, probably scanning her mind for more menial tasks and chores to pile onto me. However, her show comes back on and distracts her attention. “Fine, get to bed. You’ll be up bright and early anyway.” She flicks her wrist, dismissing me with her dangling hand.

“Thank you.” I walk away before she has a chance to change her mind. Although, if she really did change her mind, she could just wake me up and demand I start cleaning again.

Exhausted, I trudge down to my room, past all the gleaming surfaces I’ve cleaned and cleaned again in this house. Sylvia was furious with me for staying out. She shrieked at me, spat in my face, and told me that if she hadn’t known my father she would have sold me years ago. I’m not allowed to leave the yard at all anymore. She even fired me from picking up her coffee order, sending Raymond in my place to pick up the bitch special.

I went from feeling like a prisoner to truly becoming one. I can only hope that, in time, Sylvia’s anger eases off some and I’m actually allowed to go outside for more than just dragging garbage to the curb.

Sitting on the side of my bed, I feel so much older than I am. My body is tired and my joints ache. I haven’t had five minutes to sit down all day. My feet scream at me in protest, begging me to lie down and give them a break.

I’m not ready to go to sleep yet, though. I know as soon as my head hits that pillow I won’t be able to stop myself from drifting off and I’m not ready to pass out, only to be woken before the sun rises to do this all again tomorrow. I need some time to myself.

My thoughts drift to Jackson for probably the thousandth time in the last few days. Since Sylvia confiscated my phone, I’ve had no way of reactivating my profile and talking to him. It’s eating me up inside that I haven’t been able to tell him why I had to send him away. If I could just get him to hear me out, if I could explain my life, he wouldn’t be angry anymore. I hate that someone I care about so deeply will soon be a distant memory in my life.

Why can’t you talk to him? I can almost hear the thought in Julianna’s rebellious voice, whispering in my ear.

No, that’s crazy thoughts. I can’t start going down that path. As it is, I’m skating on thin ice. If I try to sneak my phone back and communicate with Jackson, I really could be facing deportation, or worse.

Who said anything about your phone? You know where he lives. Go see him. She’ll never know.

My heart skips a beat at the scandalous thought. There’s no way I could sneak out and see him… right? I mean, definitely, without question there’s no way I should. But if I did, could I get away with it? It’s not like Sylvia is going to check in on me. She knows she’s got me under her thumb right now. Tonight she’s probably just going to have too many drinks, watch her reality television, and stumble up to bed.

Would she ever even find out? I bite my lip as I consider something so stupid, yet something that my heart is begging me to do. All the rebelliousness I never got to experience as a teenager rears its ugly head as my thoughts multiply, encouraging me to take this chance.

I’m on the ground floor, so it wouldn’t be hard to sneak out through my bedroom window. My head sweeps around and I watch my bedroom door, like I half expect Sylvia to suspect that I’m up to something and come barging in here at any moment.

She doesn’t.

I stand up, still keeping my eyes on the door, but nothing changes. Walking backward, creeping slowly, I make my way to the window, never taking my eyes off that door. However, it remains closed. Beyond it, I can still hear the television blasting in the other room. I tilt my head as I hear Raymond talking to Sylvia and they both laugh.

I face my window, my heart thumping so hard I can see my pulse in my hands as I slide the pane open and tug the screen from the opening. Gently, quietly, I push the screen under my bed, hiding it from sight.

Am I really going to do this? If my body has any intention of listening to the second-guessing in my mind, it’s not showing it. I contort my body under the window, so I’m sitting on the outside with my feet dangling toward the ground. Even though I’m not high up, it’s still a jump down to the grass. I slide the window down behind me, digging the tips of my fingers into the glass like tiny suction cups and easing it toward my butt. I leave it open enough that I can sneak back in and take a deep breath.

Thud!

To me, that noise might as well be me crashing into a giant wall of cymbals. It sounds so loud, I expect to see Raymond and Sylvia rounding the corner any second, ready and willing to destroy what’s left of my life. I freeze in place, waiting for something to happen, but nothing does. From inside, I can hear them laugh again at their show and my muscles unwind, allowing me to quickly walk away from the house.

Down the street I march, forcing myself not to run. I don’t want to draw attention to myself, but I have this wild energy begging to be released inside of me that the pure adrenaline pulsing through my veins is causing. I speed walk away from the house, keeping my eyes peeled for a taxi the entire time. Up the road I see one and flag it down, shocked when it actually waits for me.

I’m doing this. I’m going to see him. To tell him the truth. It’s exhilarating and scary, but in my heart I know it’s the right thing to do.

* * *

With Chloe sound asleep, I finally have a few minutes to tidy up from the day. I take in the living room, amazed at the almost tornado-like force a child her age has on a house. As I scan the room’s surfaces, I can’t seem to find a single one that doesn’t have some traces of my daughter’s day on it. Whether it’s the paintings she worked on and proudly displayed on the coffee table for me, or the tiny My Little Pony accessories leaving a dangerous trail for me to walk on, or the fact that the TV remote is sandwiched between some of her favorite books.

And this is just one room. It’s impossible to keep the house in any kind of order when she’s here. Mom told me it gets easier when kids go to school, so maybe next year I’ll have some kind of hope of keeping things clean.

But I’m not going to hold my breath.

Sighing, I pick up the pillows from the floor and brush them off, placing them back on the couch. Gathering up the one piece of evidence that I actually live in this house, my coffee cup, I walk out to the kitchen and place it down in the sink. Without any distractions, my thoughts travel back to Ella. I stare out my kitchen window, out into the early darkness that keeps blanketing the earth a little bit earlier every night, wondering if she’s okay.

Without meaning to, I’ve found myself driving past that house every day now. However, I haven’t seen any sign of Ella even being there. I’m not sure what her job is for those dicks, but whatever it is, it’s not outside. The thing is, if I had any indication that she wanted my help, I’d kick in that door in a heartbeat and carry her out to my car. However, as I close my eyes, all I can hear is her forceful scream to go away.

My heart tells me I’m making a mistake by listening to her, but logic keeps me driving past the house. The last thing I need is someone calling the cops on me, or even worse, some kind of restraining order put out against me. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that she needs me.

Lights shine in through my window, blinding me temporarily as they pull up my driveway. Who is coming here at this time? Not that it’s really that late. It’s actually only a little after eight. It just always feels late when your kid is finally asleep and you worry that any little noise might wake them up.

From the light on the top of the car, I can see it’s a taxi that’s pulled up in. So that rules out my mother. She has no reason to come over anyway, but if she did decide to stop by, it wouldn’t be in a cab. I walk over to the door, preparing to send whoever mistook this address as their destination away when my mouth goes slack and I fling the door wide-open instead.

“Ella!”

She fidgets uncomfortably and then looks over her shoulder at the cab, still not backing out of my driveway. “Hi.” Her face is contorted in pain. “I’m so sorry to do this. But, Jackson, I had to come see you. I owed you an explanation,” she starts to ramble.

“All right then, come in.” I step out of the way, clearing a path for her to come into the house.

“The thing is, I had to take a taxi to get here, but I don’t have the money to pay for it. I hate that I have to ask, but could you pay him?” Her eyebrows shoot skyward as she plays nervously with her ring.

Seriously?

She comes to my house, spends the night, spazzes out about getting back to her job, screams at me to leave, and then drives to my house a few days later without cab fare? I honestly can’t figure this girl out.

“Fine.” I walk past her and over to the driver’s side window, tapping on the glass. The cabbie lowers it down. “How much do I owe you?” I tug out my wallet from my back pocket.

“Twenty-five,” he answers flatly.

“Nope, there’s no way, man. I know how far you drove to get here. If you were purposely taking some long route, that’s on you. Now what do I really owe you?” I jut out my jaw as he sizes me up.

“Fine, it’s ten bucks.” He holds out his hand and I slap a bill against it. The cabbie drives away and I join Ella on my step, opening the door for us.

“Okay, you said you want to talk. Come in and talk.”

I close the door behind us and head to the living room, not bothering to check if she’s following me or not. Plopping down on the sofa, I stare at her expectantly, still pretty annoyed by all this bullshit. “Are you going to sit down and tell me what all this is about?” I nod to the seat beside me.

Ella sits on the cushion gingerly, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to take a seat. What on earth is going on in her life?

“Jackson, I’ve never told anyone this before,” she begins and I can hear the strain in her voice as she struggles to find the right words.

“Okay, well, take your time then.” I find my anger dissolving into concern. It’s impossible not to worry about her. She looks so fragile and scared. Whatever is going on with her, it’s probably a big deal.

“I’m sorry I told you to go away.” She rubs her hands over her jeans, avoiding my eyes. “I didn’t know what to do. When I came to this country, I was fifteen. My entire family was killed in Colombia,” she starts to explain.

“Holy shit,” I breathe out the words.

Ella nods, blinking back tears. “Yes. But, before he was murdered, my father sent me over here with some smugglers. They bring people over the border and sell them. Dad had arranged for a woman over here to take me in. To give me protection and a better life. My boss, Sylvia, she did that for me. And part of me feels like I should be eternally grateful to her for doing that for me,” she explains.

I bite my tongue. From what I saw, Sylvia doesn’t treat her with any human dignity at all. I understand that Ella is grateful, but there’s a line.

“Okay.” I try not to let my opinion overshadow what she’s telling me.

“Sylvia, she’s not always easy to work for. She doesn’t pay me,” Ella confesses.

“Whoa, what? So, you’re like a slave or something?”

“No, well, yes I suppose I am. Sometimes I feel more like her prisoner. Because she knows she has a huge advantage over me, so I need to live by her rules and do the work she wants me to do,” she continues, her voice wavering.

“Why? Why can’t you leave, Ella?” I move in closer to her and put my arm around her shivering shoulders.

“Because I’m not really allowed to be here,” she whispers to her hands.

“What do you mean? You said you came here when you were a teenager. What’s the problem?” I hold her against me and run my hand over her hair.

“I’m not legally allowed to be here,” she stresses the word. “I’m an illegal immigrant. And if I try to leave Sylvia, I have nowhere to go. I could get deported back to Colombia.” She sinks into me as the heavy burden is lifted from her soul.

“Oh, Ella.” I hold her tight. “I won’t let that happen.” I try to figure out how I can fix this for her. I need to help her. To give her a life she deserves instead of this endless indentured servitude.

“What if we could find a way for you to be here legally, you know, like on a visa?” I sit up straighter as a lightning bolt of brilliance strikes me.

“That would be amazing.” Her warm brown eyes overflow with hope. “But how could I do that?”

“We can do that.” I brush her hair off her face. “I’m sure there must be something we can do.” I let her go and jump over to my computer. “Let me check.”

A quick Google search tells me there aren’t any easy solutions. In fact, most of the regulations say exactly what she’s already said. She’ll be deported. However, I can’t let her go back to that woman. I can’t let her live like that.

“It looks like it’s kinda complicated,” I admit. “But listen, I want you to stay here, with me. Don’t go back to that monster. I will protect you here. I will keep you safe.”

* * *

“I’m not sure,” I answer. I don’t want to get too excited. Letting my dreams build up, only to have them dashed again would be too hard. There are only so many times hope can be extinguished, that your fire can be put out, before you just give up entirely.

“Listen.” He stands up from his computer desk and holds out his hands to me. “Let me help you. I can fix this for you, if you’ll just let me.”

I want to believe he has that power. I want, more than anything, to have found a man who cares about me so much he’ll do whatever he can to make my life better.

I reach out and clasp my fingers around his hands and he tugs me toward him. “Are you sure you want to do that for me? You’re okay with me living here, with you?” I swallow hard, wondering if he’s going to change his mind. If he’ll cast me aside or get tired of me. One look in his eyes and my worries fade away. The gray color shimmers like a knight’s armor as he draws me in with his stare.

“I’m more than okay with it. I’d love it if you were here every day, helping me take care of Chloe. And here every night to keep me company.” His voice grows thick as his hands travel down over the small of my back as he rubs into me.

My breathing quickens as I press into him, eager to feel his thick cock against me… inside me. He’s all I’ve been able to think about for days. Memories of our night together send me into a dreamlike trance during the day and give me the ultimate fantasy to remember as I use my fingers to recreate pleasure again at night.

“I’ll stay,” I agree. “Thank you.” I peek up at him from under my lashes, aware that the look in his eyes has transformed from the kind man who wanted to help me to a hungry beast. A long shiver runs down my spine, but I don’t shy away. I like that I can bring out this side in him. I want his body against mine again.

Jackson threads his fingers through my hair, but this time, he grabs a handful at the base of my neck and tugs down hard enough that my head rolls back under his control. A whimper softly escapes my lips as he kisses me hard, walking me backward until my back is flat against the wall.

The slow, tender kisses from the other night are gone. Instead, he tugs my bottom lip into his mouth as his hand slides up under my shirt and he cups my breast, squeezing it. I sigh and he lets go of my hair, quickly slipping his other hand under my sweater as he tugs it off over my head.

“I need you, Ella. I fucking need you again,” he murmurs in my ear as his fingers make quick work of freeing me from my pants.

I step out of them, no longer trembling like a little leaf in the wind like the other night. Tonight, I feel powerful. Tonight, for the first time, I’m getting a taste of that feral need I can bring out in him. Of how he can make me wet with only a tug of my hair. It’s intoxicating and I want more.

“I need you too.” I’m surprised at how vulnerable the confession makes me feel. Like, for the first time, I’m showing him a side of me that’s still so new, so unfamiliar, yet so exciting.

Jackson rubs his thumb down over the top of my panties in a small circle, teasing me, testing me, and I mewl for more as he strokes it over my clit. “Later, I’ll take my time with you,” he growls, “but right now, I can’t wait.” His hand bunches up my panties, twisting them so tight I’m sure he’s going to rip them right off me.

Yanking back hard, the fabric twists against my skin before the seams give out and snap over my flesh in a tiny explosion across my hips. Jackson quickly opens his pants, shoving them down in the front along with his underwear and his fat cock is exposed to me as my pussy clenches with desire.

He fumbles with his wallet, reaching inside for the crinkly foil packet, but I grab his hand. “Please, let me feel all of you tonight,” I beg him, my body aching for the heat of his cock inside me.

“Are you on birth control?” He studies my face and I shake my head. “I’ll have to pull out then.”

I’ll do whatever it takes to have him, every inch of him.

Jackson slides his hands under my thighs, lifting me up as I giggle. He holds my legs open and slides his cock up into me, pushing me flat back into the wall and fucking me hard and fast. His gentle, sweet, slow thrusts are replaced with a rabid fury of need as my pussy clenches against him and I hold on to his shoulders tight. I watch as his thick member slides in and out of my pussy, each time disappearing deeper inside until I gasp at the slight pinch I thought I’d never feel again as he completely fills me.

He holds me tight in his grasp, keeping my quaking thighs still in his strong hands as his dick pushes into me hard, deeper, filling me in a way I’ve never thought possible. My body tightens and my breathing grows rapid and shallow as an intensity floods through me. It’s not like the orgasm I had the other night, where it billowed out and filled every part of me. This time, it’s more intense and focused as he fucks me so relentlessly I can barely catch my breath.

Jackson’s face contorts and his hips rock out of rhythm as his breathing grows raspy. “On your knees,” he commands and drops his hands from my legs, letting me slide down the wall in front of him.

His hand jerks his cock furiously and I’m not sure if he wants me to put him in my mouth or if he’s going to cum on my face. I open my mouth, letting my tongue hang over my lips as he holds himself with one hand against the wall and quickly slides his hand over his shaft. He groans loudly and his warm, white cum spurts out, streaking over my chin and tongue and spilling down onto my tits. Jackson keeps pulling on his cock until every drop spills out of him and he slumps against the wall, breathing hard.

I stand up, wiping my face with my hand and smearing his seed into my breasts as he pulls me into him close. I can smell his musk as tiny beads of sweat trickle down his brow.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He kisses my earlobe tenderly. “I’ll run a bath for us,” he murmurs as exhaustion creeps into his voice.

“I’d love that,” I tell him honestly and let him lead me out of the room toward the bathroom, toward my new life, with him protecting me, looking out for me, and keeping me by his side.

* * *

I wake up with my arms snugly wrapped around Ella’s waist and my hard cock pressing against the crack of her unbelievably plump and sexy ass. I slowly grind my hips, enjoying the throb of pleasure that courses through me as her full cheeks tease my shaft.

“Damn, if this is how I get to wake up from now on, I don’t think I’ll ever get out of bed,” I growl in her ear and let my hands roam up to her heavy tits.

Ella edges back against me, pushing her ass into my cock shamelessly. It gives me dirty ideas about how we can start the day. “Oh, no!” She jumps up suddenly, leaving me hard and confused as she stares over at the alarm clock in a panic. “I have to go.” She looks just as flustered as the last time she spent the night. Like she’s about to go into full meltdown mode.

“Hey, get back here.” I grab her hand and tug her back onto the mattress next to me. “You’re done with all that, remember? No more curfews, no more slavery, you’re staying with me now. I’m taking care of you,” I reassure her as her muscles unknot and she slowly sinks back into the bed.

“I forgot,” she breathes, like she doesn’t fully believe she’s not in trouble somehow. “It’s been six years that I’ve been living under Sylvia’s rules. It just feels so strange to know it’s finally over.”

I trace my fingertips down her back, exploring the curve of her waist before trailing them over her round hip and down her thick thigh. I can’t stop touching her, pressing against her, holding her.

I’ve never felt the world slip away like it does when I look into her eyes. I’ve been with other women who made my passion light up. However, it was different. This is different. When I’m with Ella, she makes me crazy, like the aching need for her is screaming from every cell inside me.

Even after we’ve fucked, I still want her as close as possible. Like an addict, I feel shaky and weak when she’s not next to me. Just breathing her in makes my senses come alive. Just getting lost in her eyes makes the world more beautiful somehow. Just kissing her lips can make every problem I’ve ever had temporarily float away into the atmosphere.

“Well, now you never have to go back there.” I kiss the tip of her nose.

“No, Jackson, I do have to go back.” Her eyes widen and I squint at her with confusion.

“What are you talking about? You’re not going back to that house. Why would you?” Irritation claws at my throat as I remember the way it felt when she screamed at me to go. How I couldn’t make sense of her decision. Obviously, I understand now why she did what she did. But to go back now? It makes no sense.

“I have to,” she pleads with me. “In my room, I have a picture of my family. It’s the only one I have. They’re all gone now. All of them were murdered. It’s the only thing I have to remember them by. I can’t just leave it there. I can’t let Sylvia and Raymond throw it out when they decide to empty my room into the trash.” Her lips tug down in the corners as her eyebrows knit together.

“Daddy?” Chloe calls out to me from the other room.

“Yes, honey, I’m awake. I’ll get us some breakfast in a second, okay?” I call out as I realize what I need to do.

“Okie dokie smokie,” my daughter jokes with me and I smile.

“I’ll help you get your picture back, Ella, I promise. First, let’s have some breakfast and then I’ll call my mother and get her to stay with Chloe. I don’t want to take her there again.” I clench my jaw, knowing that this time I won’t be backing down from the monsters who have kept Ella under lock and key for so long. “We’ll go today and get your things, okay?” I brush my thumb over the side of her soft face and watch as Ella’s eyes glimmer with happiness.

“Thank you, Jackson.” Her soft accent is like music in my ears. “You’re my hero.” She kisses me.

“Well, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this”—I drop my voice theatrically—“but I was a Navy SEAL.” I throw my shoulders back and stick out my chest like I’m doing some kind of contorted Superman pose.

“I know.” She laughs. God, I love her laugh. “I think there’s a little stuffed owl around here somewhere that proves it, right?” She giggles and I laugh at her burning me.

“Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” I sit up and grab my pillow, gently lobbing it at her. “I see how it is.” Over Ella’s laughter I can hear Chloe getting up in her room and I realize we need to get some clothes on before this gets really awkward. “All right, let’s get dressed and grab some breaky”—I nod at the door—“before that little munchkin sneaks in here.”

Ella slides out of bed, taking my breath away as she fumbles around for clothes. My God, she’s simply stunning. Literally, I’m stunned just by the way her soft curves move as she dresses. I have to remind myself to quit staring and get up, but even then, it takes a real effort to make my legs reach over the edge of the bed and for my feet to hit the floor.

This feels like the beginning of something new for me. Something amazing. And I can’t wait to see how much better it gets.

* * *

As Jackson turns onto Sylvia’s street, I see the dark whiskers on his strong jaw jump as he tenses up. His thick fingers curl tight around the steering wheel as his grip tightens and his muscles in his forearms pop into rigid peaks and valleys.

I know he’s angry about how she has treated me. He’s angry about this entire situation. Is it terrible that I notice how hot he is when he’s angry? I know it’s not appropriate, but my body doesn’t care about social graces.

When I glance down over his steel eyes, made more intense and smoldering by being pissed off, when every firm muscle in his athletic body looks like it might just tear the flimsy fabric of his clothes, it’s impossible not to notice just how sexy and in control he looks. My pussy clenches and my nipples grow into sensitive, hard peaks. Being with him has awakened a lust inside I’ve only ever read about before. I want him.

Jackson brings the car to a stop and my attention slides over to the front door of the house I’ve worked in since I came to this country. This is the only home I’ve known for years. It’s sad to think that after all the time I spent here, I can pack up my entire life and disappear from Sylvia’s and Raymond’s radar forever simply by taking one simple photograph and leaving.

With the exception of a few clothes, nothing else in that house is mine. Guilt splashes around in my stomach as I remember how, when I first met Jackson, I was wearing Sylvia’s things. Strutting around Denver like I had any business wearing her expensive designer clothes.

I push the thought down. None of that matters now. I didn’t steal anything, not like the countless hours of labor and time she’s stolen from my life. Not like the dignity Sylvia and her boy-toy have enjoyed stripping from me. Not like the dreams they ripped from my heart as I realized that if they had it their way, I would have lived a life of fear and servitude forever.

All of a sudden I don’t feel so bad about borrowing a dress she never even wore. Instead, a quiet rage builds up, growing angrier with each passing second. Today is the day I walk away from them forever. Today will be the first true day of my freedom.

I unbuckle my seatbelt, my eyes locked on the front door, and fling the car door open. “You don’t need to come with me. I can do this.” I can’t see anything but the door that sealed my fate for more time than I’d like to recount.

“The hell I don’t,” he answers, jumping out after me.

I should know better than think he’ll ever let me walk into a dangerous situation without his protection. I instantly feel secure, just from him walking next to me.

The front door swings open unexpectedly and I stop dead in my tracks as Sylvia walks out, disgust tattooed on her face, and she points to the inside. “Get your ass in the fucking house right now.” Her words are eerily calm, but I can hear the threats she’s not speaking hidden in her tone.

“I will go in there.” My voice shakes and I hate myself for the trembling warble. I want to sound brave. I want her to know she doesn’t control me anymore. But my words betray me. “I’m getting my things and I’m leaving.” I clear my throat and continue, “And I’m never coming back.”

“Raymond, come deal with this.” Sylvia snaps her fingers together and her shaggy-blond goon scurries over like the little lapdog he is.

“I think you should get the fuck outta here, buddy.” Raymond stands tall as he comes flying out the front door and down the steps at Jackson.

I watch as Jackson moves into him, twisting his arm up hard at an angle that could pop his elbow out of the socket. Raymond yelps.

“I think you better stay the fuck out of our way,” Jackson barely breathes the words, but everyone hears him loud and clear. He puts his arm around me and flashes his teeth at Sylvia like a feral dog. “And you better back off, lady,” he snarls at her and she steps back, cowering in fear.

As soon as we step through the door, I can hear her start to scream at Raymond to “fucking man up,” as I lead Jackson through the lavish house to my modest room. I know exactly where my photograph is and I waste no time rushing over to the bed I’ve slept in all these years, stuffing my hand underneath the mattress edge until my fingertips touch the smooth, glossy paper.

“Got it.” I tug it out and quickly look down at the moment in time captured on the sheet. The genuine smiles on my parents’ faces. The goofy grin on my big brother’s lips, back when he was trying to practice his pick-up lines and sexy stare for the girls in our neighborhood. My younger brother, Miguel. His cheeks still carrying a bit of baby fat, giving him a look of innocence we lose as we age. There I am in the middle, my eyes sparkling with happiness, my future still not determined. My possibilities still endless.

I swallow the hard lump forming in my throat, but it just comes back again. I tuck the photo in my pocket and nod over at Jackson, who is watching me closely. He holds out his arm and I let myself get lost in his calming hug as he strokes my hair.

“I’m ready to go.”

He nods, holding my hand. He leads me back out into the hall.

We only make it a couple of steps when Raymond charges at us and Jackson quickly scoots me behind him, barricading me from danger with his body.

I watch as Raymond lifts his fists, like he knows the first thing about fighting, and tries to throw a feeble punch. Jackson easily sidesteps the weak haymaker and jabs Raymond hard in the gut, dropping him to the ground like a wheezing cry-baby.

“I told you to stay back. We’re fucking leaving now.” Jackson leads me past Raymond and then unexpectedly turns back, giving him a swift kick in the gut for good measure.

He grabs onto his stomach and grimaces on the floor as he fills the house with yowling. I don’t even glance at Sylvia as we march past her. I have nothing to say to her. I know I’ll never see her again, and I couldn’t care less.

It’s all going so fast and yet so slow, like a dream, as we get back in the car and Jackson pulls away. As we drive down the street, I look at Sylvia’s house, growing smaller and less significant in the passenger side mirror until we pull around the corner onto the main street and it disappears altogether. I focus my eyes forward. For the first time since that photograph was taken, my eyes are full of hope and once again the possibilities for my life, my new life with Jackson, feel endless.

* * *

“Daddy’s home!” Chloe thumps to the front door, and Ella and I step back inside, jumping up into my arms with an excitement I know I’ll struggle to remember one day when the teen years eventually come to haunt us.

“Hey, honey.” I give her a big bear hug, careful not to squeeze her too tight as her tiny frame disappears in my folded arms.

“And Ella’s back too,” she announces as my mother finally catches up to her, smiling at us as we close the door behind us.

“Hi,” I hear Ella’s soft voice behind me as I place my daughter back down on the floor.

“That’s something we need to talk about, Chloe. Just give me a second to take my shoes off and we’ll have a little chat, okay?” I muss up her hair, flipping her fiery locks from side to side.

“Awww, do we have to? I don’t feel like having a talk, Daddy.” She pouts a little.

“Oh, and what do you feel like doing?” I watch with amusement as her little pout quickly transforms into excitement.

“What I really want to do is play!” She hops from foot to foot in a little dance.

“Well, let’s talk first and then we’ll see about playing,” I answer her gently. “Hey, Mom, you already met Ella before.” I nod to the woman I haven’t really explained to my mother yet. “You wanna stay and have tea while we talk with Chloe?”

“Sure, sure,” Mom agrees, looking from Ella’s face to mine and back again. “I’ll go put on a kettle.” She practically skips away.

I have a feeling Mom thinks this is going to be a different kind of announcement than it is. Like, the kind you make to your family and friends after you’ve bent down on one knee and slipped a ring on a finger.

I shake my head and start to walk into the house, but Ella stands still in the entryway, staring.

“Aren’t you coming?” I tilt my head and watch as I try to make sense of the swirling emotions on her face.

“Yes, sorry, I just… I guess I just realized this is a home,” she answers cryptically.

“Um, yes,” I say the word slowly, waiting for her to fill in the blanks. “It’s a house.”

“No, I know that.” She gives a quick but forced smile. “I mean a home, like this is my new home. The first one I’ve had since, well.” Her words grow too thick to spill from her mouth, choking her up as her eyes water. “These are happy tears,” she explains as she wipes her hands under her eyes.

“Shhh, it’s all right.” I pull her in and rest my chin on the top of her head. “I understand.” I rub my hand down her back quickly, like I’m trying to sweep the sadness free from her body.

“I’m good, don’t worry.” Ella steps back and her tears have dried up.

“Good, let’s go talk to Chloe about all of this. I just want to make sure she understands you’ll be living here now.” I lead her down the hall to the dining room where Mom has prepared a pot of tea, complete with sugar packets and milk. “Wow, thanks for setting this up.” I sit down in my chair and everyone gathers around the table, taking their own seats.

“Chloe.”

My daughter is very interested in flicking a sugar packet back and forth and not in what I have to say.

“Uh-huh?” Flick, flick, flick. She doesn’t bother to look up at me.

I pour some tea with a sigh. “Honey, can you put that down for a sec? I’d like to tell you something.” I fill my cup and put the pot down, waiting for her to listen.

“What’s up, Dad?” She smirks at me, plopping the sugar down.

“Honey, I wanted to let you know that Ella is going to be living with us from now on. When I have to work at night, she’ll be helping to take care of you, understand?”

I watch as my daughter looks over at my mother and then at Ella. “What about Nana?” Her eyes grow wide. “Isn’t she gonna look after me anymore?” Worry tinges her little voice.

“Of course I will,” my mother answers for me with a kind smile. “But I’m sure you’re going to have a fantastic time with Ella too.” Mom understands right away what’s going on here and might burst with happiness.

“I dunno.” Chloe furrows her red eyebrows together. “Ella? Do you like to play pony dolls?” She tries, sizing her up.

Ella stirs some milk into her tea cup and confusion crosses her tender features. “Pony dolls?” She looks at Chloe for clarification.

“Yeah, you know, ponies!” Chloe says the word slower, like that will help explain everything. “Like Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Rarity,” she lists off the names on each finger.

“Oh, do you mean My Little Pony?” I can see her make the connection and Chloe beams.

“Yup! Pony dolls!”

“I loved playing with them when I was a kid.” Ella gets surprisingly animated and, for a second, she and my daughter share the same look of wide-eyed joy. It’s hard not to laugh.

“Dad? Can we be done talking now?”

“Sure, hon.” I shrug at how nonchalant she is about the whole ‘this new woman is going to be living here’ thing. Little did I know, all this time, anyone could become her best friend forever just by sharing her love of imaginary, talking horses.

“Great!” She jumps off the chair and runs as fast as she can into the other room. I can hear Chloe digging around through stuff and then huff and puff as she drags something in from the play room.

As I turn in my chair, I can’t help but laugh as I watch my four-year-old struggle to drag an entire castle that’s probably half her size, crammed full of ponies into the dining room.

“Let’s play now, Ella,” she exclaims gleefully.

“Chloe.” I can see she’s not listening to me at all. “Chloe! Hey! How about you just relax a bit and let Ella rest? We just got home and she just sat down,” I try to explain.

“Is that Twilight Sparkle?” My head snaps around on my neck toward Ella as I do a double take at her question.

“It is!” Chloe holds out a little purple horse proudly.

“Oh, she was always my favorite.” Ella stands up and walks over to Chloe.

“Mine too!” Chloe swirls her arms in wide circles.

“Well, maybe I can play for a bit.” Ella helps Chloe pick up her toys and walks out of the room with her, leading her back to the play area.

Chloe leaps like a tiny ballerina after her, barely being able to contain her excitement in her little body. I shake my head and chuckle.

“Well, it looks like they’ll hit it off just fine.” Mom laughs and I sip my tea.

“Yeah, that wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be,” I agree.

“That’s how you know it was meant to be.” Mom rests her hand on mine. “I see the way you look at her, Jackson. I’m so happy you found love.”

“Love? I don’t know about that.” I brush off the comment and sit up a little straighter.

“That’s okay if you don’t know it yet. You will.” She taps my hand with her fingers before taking a long sip of her tea knowingly.

Love? The word floats through my mind as I think it over for the first time. My shoulders relax, realizing that my mother might just be right. Not that I’m going to share that with her right now. That I may have finally found the woman I’m ready to open my heart to.

* * *

“Oh my goodness, I’d eat a third bowl of that soup if I wasn’t so stuffed.” Marie licks her lips and looks down at her empty bowl.

“It really is delicious.” Jackson smiles over at me.

“Thank you. I’m so happy you enjoyed it. My grandmother used to make it for us all the time.” I fondly remember how she would let me roll up the meatballs after I had carefully washed my hands while she let the broth simmer and got the other ingredients, the rice and vegetables, prepared.

“Daddy, I like your soup too, the one you make with alphabets in it. But this one is better,” Chloe chimes in as she scoops the last bits of rice from her bowl.

Jackson and his mother laugh. “Well, that alphabet soup is also an old family recipe,” Marie chuckles.

“That’s right,” Jackson agrees. “I learned how to open that can and dump the soup in the pot from the best chef in the business,” he teases him mother.

I try to imagine how my abuela would handle us eating soup from a can, but I have to blink the scowling face free from my mind. I’m pretty sure that just the thought has her spinning in her grave.

“Well, it’s been so lovely to sit and share this with you.” I stand up and begin to clear the table, but Jackson abruptly pops out of his chair and plucks them from my hand.

“Relax, you cooked the meal. I’ve got the cleanup.”

For a second I’m so confused I just stand frozen, like my brain can’t understand the simple words he’s saying. For so long I’ve made all the meals and waited for Raymond and Sylvia to stop complaining about my cooking long enough to eat so I could tidy up after them. I wasn’t permitted to sit at the table with them. Instead, I was allowed to eat leftovers, when there were some, after I had finished my chores for the day.

“Take a load off, Ella.” Marie nods down to my chair. “You deserve a break.”

I slowly ease back down onto my seat, but it’s still strange to watch Jackson clear the table. Uneasiness rises inside me, like clouds building before a storm. It’s just difficult to go from such a regimented life where fear was a constant to this. I’m definitely not complaining, it’s just going to take some getting used to.

Jackson carries a handful of dishes out of the room as I let my muscles unwind and lean back in my chair. I gaze over at his mother, who’s been so incredibly welcoming. Every time I look at her, she’s smiling.

“At Thanksgiving I’ll cook for you.” She rests her forearms on the table, leaning in toward me. “I can’t wait to make you a big ol’ turkey with all the sides. I’m sure you’ve had a bunch of Thanksgivings here by now, but you wait until you try my cornbread stuffing. I mean, if I’m honest, Jackson makes the turkey and my guests bring most of the sides, but that stuffing is the one dish I know I can knock your socks off with.” She beams.

“I’ve never had a Thanksgiving meal.” I try to imagine sitting down to such a feast, but that much food seems impossible to eat all in one meal.

“Really?” Marie tilts her head. “Well then, that’s going to have to change this year.”

“I’d love that.”

“Nana, can I have my bath now?” Chloe interrupts, clearly bored by our conversation. “I got soup all over my arms and face, so I should probably have a bubble bath… with my dolphin toy!”

“Oh, sure, honey. I think I can get that set up for you.”

Jackson comes back into the dining room just as his mother helps Chloe from the table and I stand back up. It’s one thing to sit and relax while there are other people sitting here with me, but there’s no way I’m just going to rest on my butt while Jackson does all the work.

“Here, let me help.” I grab a bunch of cutlery and glasses and head out to the kitchen before he has a chance to stop me.

Jackson follows me in with the last of the dirty dishes and I begin to take them from him, piling them beside the sink where I already put mine down. “It won’t take me long to wash up.” I start running the water and pushing the plug down into the drain.

“Hey, don’t worry about the dishes.” He slides up behind me, wrapping one arm around my waist and turning off the water with his other hand.

“It’s no bother. Besides, I don’t want to sponge off of you.” I turn to face him and a flicker of pain flashes over his face like a lightning bolt.

“Sponge off me? Is that what you think you’re doing? Ella, listen.” He cups my face in his hands. “Just because you’re living here doesn’t mean you have to be cooking and cleaning all the time. I mean, that meal was amazing, but I don’t want you thinking that’s how you have to cook all the time, okay? You’re not my servant, you’re my woman, and I’m not going to kick you out or treat you like shit because you didn’t do the dishes or something.” Anger seeps from his voice about how I’ve been living since I came to this country.

“I understand,” I whisper. “It’s just going to take some time to get used to this, that’s all.”

“I get that.” Jackson lifts my jaw and gives me a slow, sensual kiss. My eyelids flutter closed and I sink into him. He steps back from me and slides a lock of my hair behind my ear. “Besides, I have the only dishwasher I need right here.” He pats the silver door under the counter. “I can think of much more exciting things to occupy your time than housework.” He grinds into me shamelessly.

Heat splashes over my cheeks, my breathing immediately growing shallow with desire. “I’d like to learn what those things are.” I bite my lip.

“Mmmm, once we have some quiet time I intend to show you.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “But right now, I’m going to load up the dishwasher and start getting things put away because I think we should try to have an early night, and with all the things I plan to do to you, that means we’ll have to get to bed right after Chloe drifts off.”

“Why? Is there something going on tomorrow?”

“There is, but that’s my surprise for you. So you’ll just have to wait and see.” Jackson steals the questions from my lips with another kiss and I let them flutter away.

I trust him. If he wants to surprise me with something, I’m sure it will be amazing.

* * *

“Let’s see. We’ve got you all ready for winter now.” I check the bags I’m holding to make sure we’re not missing anything. “You’ve got a coat, gloves, a hat and scarf. There are your new boots.” I shake a bag holding a pair she tried on earlier.

Ella looks around the Cherry Creek shopping center and then down at the new bags dangling from my hands, worry etched on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“No, nothing. But you’ve spent so much money on me. I know I can never repay you and I feel awful about it. You’re holding so much and you’ve already put all those other bags of toiletries and lingerie and shoes in the car. It’s just, it’s all too much.” She tugs at her lip uncertainly. “I don’t deserve all this, Jackson.”

I wish she could put her hand on my heart and feel what a simple glance at her face does to me. I wish she could understand the surge of happiness she brings me.

“Ella, you deserve so much more than some clothes and kindness.” I hold out my weighed down arm and she snuggles into me. I wrap her in my hug. The bags hang down her body like a quilt. A patchwork blanket that symbolizes her new beginning, her fresh start, with me.

“Listen, everyone needs a toothbrush and that other stuff. It’s not your fault that you couldn’t take anything from Sylvia’s house. Not that I’d want you to anyway. I like that you’re cutting out that part of your life and starting with all new things for a new life. And, well, definitely don’t worry about the lingerie, because that’s just as much for me as it is for you,” I murmur in her ear and give her a full-body squeeze.

Ella gives me a knowing smile. I can’t believe that only a little while ago she was still a virgin. And a shy, nervous virgin at that. Now she seems to want sex just as much as I do. She and I can barely keep our hands off each other, every night stripping each other down as fast as our hands can manage.

“You’re too good to me.” She stands up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek.

“No, you never should have had it so bad. This is just normal, and I hate that you think normal is good.” My lips tug down as the snippets of her life she’s shared with me haunt my thoughts. The idea that she’s been through as much as she has in her twenty-one years is heart-wrenching.

When Ella finally told me more of the details of her life with Sylvia and Raymond, I had half a mind to go back to their house and burn it down. The way they ordered her around, barely feeding her, making her work all hours of the night and day, it’s deplorable. It infuriates me and I know there’s so much she hasn’t told me yet. When she was explaining to me how she lived in constant fear that they could make everything even worse, she clammed up, clamping her jaw shut no matter how much I tried to pry the meaning of her words from her.

I know it will take time before I learn everything. Ella has every reason in the world to be hesitant to trust. After her father’s betrayal killed her family and then the beacon of hope that she was supposed to go to in the United States turned her into some kind of modern day Cinderella, it’s amazing that she has any trust left in her heart for anyone.

“How about we hit up a couple more stores?” I nod to the women’s department store up the hall. “We’ll get you some pants and shirts and stuff like that, all right? Then we’ll head back home.” I drop my arm from around her and start to walk toward the shop.

Ella stays at my side and tries to grasp onto some of the bags weighing down my hand. “I can carry some of those too,” she offers.

“Naw, I like how beefed up and manly it makes me look to be slinging them all.” I puff out my chest and throw back my shoulders dramatically as she giggles. “I, uh, don’t know if I’ve mentioned this or not, but I was a Navy SEAL, so I’m pretty tough,” I mock myself and add a little exaggerated swagger to my step as her laughter gets louder. I love making her laugh. It’s impossible for me not to smile when I hear it.

We round the corner into the store and start riffling through the clothes. Ella picks out some jeans and a few shirts, but her eyes keep wandering over to the dresses. She doesn’t actually move to them. It’s like she’s stopping herself from checking them out for some reason.

“Why don’t you see if there’s anything over there that you like?” I nod to the racks that keep calling her attention.

“Oh, I don’t really need dresses. I just like them. This stuff is more than enough.” She holds up the arm full of clothes.

“Ella, we’re not leaving here until you’ve picked out at least one dress. I want you to be comfortable and happy with me. If that’s what you like to wear, go pick some out.” I lead her to the bright rainbow of colors.

Uncertainty dances in her sweet brown eyes. Then she looks back at the dresses. “Are you sure?”

“Do I look like I’m stressed about it? I want you to get them. Besides, it’ll be a lot easier to rip those new panties off you when you’re wearing one of those.” My voice drops and I watch with satisfaction as a long shudder of desire overcomes her.

“Okay, what do you think of this one?” She holds up a bright dress that would flare around her legs.

“It’s great. How about you try this stuff on, though? I want to make sure we get the right size.”

Ella nods and we head back to the change rooms. I peer inside the long corridor of stalls, but don’t see a customer service person to check in with. I shrug and flop down in a seat outside the dressing rooms. “I’ll wait here for you. I don’t see anyone to help you out, so just go in and get changed. If someone comes along I’ll let them know you’re trying on your stuff.”

“I’ll be quick,” she reassures me before disappearing into the stall at the end of the hall.

I lean my head back against the wall and fight with the exhaustion trying to grip me. One of the side effects of working, looking after Chloe, and then staying up way too late every night to fuck is that I’m constantly tired. Not that I will ever in a million years complain about it. It just means I need to drink a few more coffees in the day and that is a tradeoff I’m willing to make. I let my eyelids slide shut and the tension in my muscles slips away as sleep threatens to take me right here and now.

“What do you think?”

My head snaps up quick and my eyelids pop open as Ella’s voice surrounds me. As soon as my eyes focus on her my mouth drops open. “You look absolutely amazing.” I soak in every inch of her. The way the fabric cinches under her ample tits and then puffs back out around her full hips, it was made for her body.

The energy that was draining out of me only seconds ago has come back like a shot of adrenaline. “There’s only one way you could look better in that dress.” I lick my lips hungrily.

“How’s that?”

“If it was hiked up over your waist and you had no panties underneath.” I stand up, looking around at the vacant hall. I can’t restrain this urgent need aching inside me. It’s too powerful of an instinct to ignore. Leaving the bags by the chair, I lead Ella back to the change room she chose and lock the door with the flimsy eye-hook behind us.

“What are you doing?” she whispers, her eyes wide like a doe.

“Face the wall and hold up your dress,” I demand gruffly.

Ella does what I tell her to and I drop to my knees behind her, quickly ripping off her panties and pushing her forward until her ass is pressed out at me and her cheek is resting against the wall. She acts so innocent, but I can see her glistening pearls of desire at her entrance as I lean into her and lick them away.

She softly mewls as I delve my tongue past her lips, gliding it forward in her folds until her hard little nub is pressed firmly against me. Ella whimpers and opens her stance so her ass cheeks open a little and I grab them, holding them until I can see her asshole puckered up. Someday that will also be mine, but right now isn’t the time.

Leaning into her, my face is buried in her from behind as I suck on her clit and then thrash my tongue against it. Ella moans and I smack her swiftly on the ass. “Shhh!”

I lick her clit, flicking it up and down over the tip of my tongue as my fingers knead into her plump cheeks. Ella’s hips buck back and her thighs shake as she shudders against me. I can hear her restrained moans as her orgasm rips through her and she’s left shivering like a leaf on a tree.

I stand up and she starts to turn around to face me, but I slide my hands over her shoulders and make her face the wall. “I’m not done with you yet.” I yank out my wallet and grab a gold foil packet from inside. It probably takes half a second before I’ve got my cock yanked out and covered with a condom. I grab it by the base and slide the tip inside Ella’s slick entrance.

“Oh,” she breathes the word.

I grab her shoulders and thrust my entire length inside her fast. None of this slow and sweet shit. Not right now. Right now I need her tight pussy squeezing down on my shaft. Right now I need to fuck her with the hard, long strokes of a man who can’t hold back for another second.

I wrap my hand under her hair and tug it back toward me as I stretch her walls around me. My hips slap against her as I fuck her roughly. Her legs shake as I thrust into her again and again.

Pleasure tears through me, overwhelming my senses as I bury my cock deep inside her. My cum spurts into the condom, filling it up with my seed until the shudders of bliss stop traveling through my body. I pull out, careful to hang onto the ring surrounding the base of my shaft, and dispose of it, tying off the end.

Ella tugs up her underwear and smooths her hands down over the dress as I get it zipped up with a smile. “I’d say that’s the one.” I grin. “You should definitely get that one.”

“Mmmm, if it’ll make you that crazy, it’ll be the only thing I ever wear,” she murmurs.

I pull her into me and give her a quick kiss before opening the door and peeking out into the hallway to see if anyone is there yet. Lucky for us, the customer service in this place seems to be terrible. I slip out the door and head back over to my chair, surrounded by bags, and try to fight off sleep as I grin stupidly and wait for Ella to finish up.

Honestly, though, is there anything better than being exhausted from fucking all the time? If there is, I’ve never heard of it.

* * *

“She’s requesting your magic song that keeps the spiders away.” I walk into the living room where Ella is leafing through an old, dusty paperback from my bookshelf. I can’t help but notice how different she looks.

Although she’s only in her early twenties, she’s always looked much older. Not because of wrinkles or gray hairs, but in how she carries herself. In the burdened slope of her shoulders, in the sorrowful tone of her voice. I used to think she was just an old soul from the distant look in her eyes, but now I know it was the glazed over stare of a person who’s experienced too much of life’s chaos and sadness at too young an age. I don’t know why I never recognized the pain, the hopelessness, the fear. It’s exactly how I felt before Chloe came into my life.

Now Ella radiates a peaceful happiness that makes her sun-kissed skin shimmer. The horrors she’s experienced have vanished from her eyes, replaced with a hopeful sparkle that dances like flecks of gold over the beautiful brown. I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s simply stunning.

I was wrong. It’s not that Ella looks any younger. It’s more like she’s been walking around with the flame of passion extinguished from her soul. Like dreams were a distant memory and the harsh reality of her life had ground her down to dust. Now, I finally understand that myth of the phoenix rising from the ashes. A little over a year ago, I thought that was a silly story we tell ourselves, but as I gaze at her glowing face, I can see the truth.

“I’d love to sing it to her, if you don’t mind?” She tilts her head and her long hair flows down over her arm.

“Why would I mind?” I frown, confused.

“Well, I don’t want to intrude on the special bedtime routine you guys have, that’s all. I heard you reading Chloe her bedtime story. It was cute,” she explains.

“I think there’s nothing better to follow a bedtime story than a lullaby. Go ahead, she’s waiting for you.” I nod toward the stairs.

Ella smiles and heads up to Chloe’s room. Her new dress flares out around her legs as her bare feet cheerfully hop up the stairs. I tilt my head and listen for a moment as her sweet song fills the house. Without meaning to, I find myself tip-toeing back up the stairs, drawn to the music like a sailor to a siren song.

As my foot hits the top stair, Ella’s simple tune comes to an end. “Good night, Chloe,” she whispers.

“No, Ella, wait.” Chloe stops her.

“What is it?” Ella sounds concerned.

I hope Chloe isn’t just turning this into a game, trying to stretch out her bedtime with a bunch of distracting questions.

“Um, uh, well…”

I shake my head and start to head down the hall to tell my daughter that bedtime means sleep.

“Ella, sometimes I miss my mommy.” Her voice is thin, but her confession pierces my heart, stopping me abruptly in my tracks.

“Oh, honey, that’s completely normal,” I hear Ella take a couple steps closer to Chloe. “I lost my mommy too when I was younger and I still miss her,” she answers.

“You lost her? Where?” Chloe asks.

“No, I mean, I didn’t lose her. She…” Ella’s voice trails off into silence.

“Did she die?” The bluntness of the question makes me wince. Children aren’t really known for their tact, I guess.

“Yes, she did.”

“My mommy died too,” Chloe explains plainly.

It’s not something we talk about a whole lot. When I first brought my daughter into my home, I took her to a professional to talk about her mom. The therapist told me to keep the dialogue open about her death, but not to dwell on it. After the first four months, Chloe stopped asking when Janet was going to come get her. Lately, I’ve been wondering if she still remembers her at all.

“I know, and I understand how much you must miss her.” Ella’s voice is rich with compassion.

“Uh-huh, I do. I think she used to sing me a bedtime song too, but not the same one you sing. I like them both.”

I didn’t realize Janet had a special lullaby for Chloe. My gut twists with guilt for not knowing something that probably meant a lot to my little girl.

“I’m glad you like it,” Ella answers.

“Yep. Plus, your song keeps spiders away, so I really like that.” She sounds so cheerful. You’d never guess that she was talking about losing her mom. “Ella?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Are you my new mom?”

My heart leaps into my throat as the bluntness of her question sucks the air from my lungs. How is it that kids can just cut so straight to the point? They never get lost in the swirling ‘maybes’ or ‘what-ifs’. Their world is so remarkably black and white.

“’Cause I’d like if you were my new mommy.” She gets excited.

“Well, thank you,” Ella finally answers. “I would love that too, Chloe. But I’ll never replace your mother, okay? Where I’m from, women in the family are so important,” she explains. “Mothers are super special, but you can also have a really close bond with your grandmother,” she tells Chloe.

“Like my nana!”

“That’s right. Also we really love our tias, I mean, our aunts. I would be more like a special auntie, okay?”

“Okay.” Chloe’s word is muffled by a big yawn.

“I hope you have sweet dreams. Sleep well.” Ella tiptoes out of Chloe’s room and into the hallway.

“You did a great job,” I whisper, leading her back downstairs.

“Thank you.” She follows me down and my thoughts are a crazy mess.

How is it that kids can see the world so plainly, but as we age, we overcomplicate every single thing? Giving layers of complexity to issues that aren’t all that hard to understand. My thoughts go back to my mother’s words, back to when she said the jarring statement, like a simple fact, that I love Ella.

Why did I even question it? As my heart swells and warmth fills my veins, I know she wasn’t wrong. I am in love with Ella.

I love her.

Now I just need to stop overanalyzing and accept that simple, beautiful truth.

* * *

Jackson and I ease back against his comfortable sofa and he searches for the remote control. For a moment, my thoughts zap back to Sylvia and Raymond. For years I watched them go through their nightly routine of lazily relaxing on the couch while watching shows. In a weird way, it was one of the things I envied the most about their lives. Just having that time to relax. To let their minds go numb and let the hardships of their day float away while they enjoyed each other’s company for a few hours. I was never allowed to sit on their furniture, let alone watch their television, so as Jackson grabs the remote and flicks his screen to life, a tingle of rebellion travels down my spine.

An advertisement for the new fall line-up of shows draws our attention as Jackson sinks back against the navy fabric covering the cushions and whistles. “I can’t believe tomorrow is the first day of October, can you? Where did the summer go?”

I sit taller, my muscles tensing. “It’s my birthday tomorrow.” The words fall out of my mouth, sounding every bit as surprised as I feel.

“What? No, it’s not.” Jackson casts a glance at me from the corner of his steely eyes with a half smirk on his face. “Wait, is it?” He looks startled as his full attention turns to me.

“It really is. I don’t care, though. I didn’t realize it was that time of year again.” I look down at my nails, fleeing from the intense curiosity written across Jackson’s raised eyebrows.

“You’re serious? You really forgot that tomorrow’s your birthday? How does that even happen? I had no idea!” He runs his broad palm down over the back of his neck and searches the room. “I don’t have a gift for you or anything.” He sounds so much more disappointed by that fact than I could ever feel.

“Yes, I’m serious. Jackson, listen.” I grab his hand, but I can see the wheels turning inside his head. Like he’s trying to figure out if it’s too late to run out to the store to buy something for me at the last minute. “I haven’t celebrated my birthday since I turned fifteen years old. It was my quinceañera, which is a big deal in Colombia. It’s when a girl becomes a woman.”

“So, kinda like a sweet sixteen then?”

“I’m not sure.” I shrug. “Do girls wear a beautiful pastel dress and a tiara for their sweet sixteen?” I honestly don’t know. I haven’t exactly been invited to a lot of American parties.

“Uh, no. Not usually. That sounds really elaborate.” Jackson watches me closely, waiting for me to continue, but my thoughts drift back to my fifteenth birthday. Memories of the happiest and most exciting night of my life flash through my head like a slow motion movie montage.

“My family started my day with fifteen helium heart-shaped balloons and my mother made me the most delicious Arepas.” I can almost taste the sweet cornbread pancake smothered in soft, white cheese melting on my tongue. I swear, I can almost smell the inviting home cooked breakfast. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.

“That sounds sweet.” His hand slides over mine, enveloping it in warmth and strength.

“It was beautiful,” I agree. “I remember I was looking forward to finally getting to wear makeup. Up until then, my parents were very strict about it. I couldn’t even wear tinted lip gloss. I’d beg them to let me, you know, just for special occasions, but my mother wouldn’t hear of it. She’d always told me to wait for my quinceañera. So, when I woke up that morning, that was the first thing on my mind.”

I remember how I stuffed my breakfast in my face, chewing as fast as I could, and raced downstairs where my mother had laid out my gorgeous, pillowy gown for that night. My parents both watched me with a twinkle in their aging eyes as I lifted the gown from the back of the chair and swirled it around the floor.

“Fifteen sounds like a good age. We should have the custom here too,” Jackson murmurs.

“That night, at the huge dance, all of my family and friends were there to celebrate.” I can feel the dewy humidity in the air as I close my eyes and recall the details that I haven’t allowed myself to remember in years. “I started the night out in flat shoes. It’s part of the tradition. It’s symbolic of starting out as a girl, but when my father slipped my high heels on and I stepped out onto the floor”—I sigh at the memory of the smiles and clapping as I twirled theatrically for the onlookers—“I felt like a princess.” I realize my eyes have softened with tears and I wipe them away quickly.

“It sounds magical.” Jackson squeezes my hand, hanging off my every word.

“It truly was.” I breathe out a quivering lungful of air and force my tears away. “Not long after that, my family was murdered. I was smuggled to America and brought to Sylvia’s house. I never had another birthday again. But I always had that memory. It was the best day I ever had and I got to share it with my family before they were taken from me. I’m just so grateful I at least had that one day with them.” I can’t stop the tears. I brush them away, but they just spring right back.

“Shhh, hey, come here.” Jackson pulls me into his thick chest and I can smell his musk as I bury my face and let the tears dry against his shirt. The warmth of his body, the hard ridge of his muscles, his manly scent, it all relaxes me. I sink into him, losing myself in his arms.

“Are you okay?” He grazes his thumb down the edge of my cheek as I lift my head and meet his eyes, nodding.

“I will be.” I smile, for once realizing the truth in my words. I’m free from that horrible woman who kept me as her indentured servant. I’m finally free and I couldn’t imagine a better life. I get this fluttery feeling, this buzzing pulse that tingles every nerve in my body, this weird way I struggle to breathe every time he looks at me like this.

Jackson leans into me, his lips brushing mine in a kiss as light as a whisper, as soft as a summer breeze. It’s not the passionate, desperate kisses he’s covered my lips with before. It’s simple and sweet.

“Come with me.” He stands up and tugs my hand, helping me to my feet. I follow him into the kitchen and he opens the fridge door, taking out a box of white wine. “Mom left this here on labor day. We had a barbeque and she likes to keep it classy.” He chuckles. “Here.” He opens the cabinet door and grabs two wine glasses, holding them under the spout. He fills them up, handing me one. “I know it’s pretty far from fancy, but I’d like to make a toast.”

I can’t tear my eyes away the neatly trimmed hair covering his chiseled jaw or the faint pink heat staining his cheeks.

“Before I met you, I spent my entire life thinking that there was no such thing as a perfect woman. Like the idea that everyone has that one soul mate out there, I thought it was bullshit.”

Jackson clears his throat and averts his gaze. “Sorry. What I’m trying to say is, I wrote that off as a silly dream. A fantasy. Some Hollywood idea that no person in real life could ever measure up. Not until I met you.”

His voice cracks and he swallows hard. “I’d like to make a toast, to the woman who made that glittery Hollywood fantasy dull in comparison to her smile. To the woman who has an ability to make me want to fall at her feet and feel like I’m walking on a cloud at the same time. To the woman I love with my entire heart. Happy Birthday.” He smiles and my mouth drops open. Jackson clinks his glass against mine, and I go through the motion of taking a sip, but shock has set in.

Did he really? Did he just tell me he loves me?

“I love you too.” I take a step closer until we’re pressed close.

Jackson places his glass down on the counter and takes mine from my hand, putting it down beside it. He quickly slides his hands under my thighs and lifts me from the ground. His mouth finds mine and stifles my nervous giggle as he walks me back toward the counter and sits me on the edge.

He takes his time soaking me in from head to toe and then back up again as he steps between my legs and grinds against me. “I was wrong.” His voice is velvety and rich. “I do have a gift I can give you. Unfortunately I can’t wrap it, though.” His eyes dance under the light.

“Oh.” My breathing quickens. “And what’s that?”

“How about I show you?” His fingers thread through my hair and tug the locks, jerking my head back as he kisses a trail down my neck.

I moan softly, “Yes.”

* * *

I glide the heel of my hand up Ella’s thigh, letting my outstretched fingers graze the wet fabric of her panties. My fingertips brush over the damp spot and my cock throbs. “I need to fucking taste you.” I guide her back on the counter, my other hand still tangled in her hair, until she’s lying back on her elbows and I kneel until my mouth is hovering over her tight, sweet pussy.

I tug the pink triangle of fabric across her shaved pussy and hold it there as I lift up her hips so her plump ass is jiggling in the air, driving me wild as I dive my tongue in past her lips and lick a long, firm trail right up to her clit.

Ella whimpers and squirms in my hands as I roll the tip of my tongue over her sensitive nub. The way she’s biting her lip with her eyes squeezed almost shut, but still open enough that she can watch me eat her out makes me crazy.

“That’s right, you watch me,” I murmur and kiss the inside of her thigh. “I want to see the look in your eyes when I make you cum.” I lick a slow circle around her clit, teasing her before I flicker my tongue over her feverishly.

“Oh! Jackson!” Ella moans and her thighs quake.

“You taste so sweet.” Her cheeks flush at my compliment. “I’m going to swallow every drop of your nectar. I’m the only man who will ever make you cum, Ella. You’re mine. And those sweet juices are just for me.” I watch as she silently nods. “Say it,” I demand.

“I’m yours, Jackson. I’ll always be yours.” She grinds her pussy against my mouth.

“You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?” I smirk at how boldly she’s speaking with her body.

“Mmmm, I’m only naughty for you,” she purrs as she shimmies her hips and rubs her juices onto my lips.

“You want me to lick you, Ella? Tell me what you want,” I tease her, holding her tight in my grasp. She can’t move any closer to me. I won’t let her until she begs for it.

“Please.” The word is a statement. I can hear the ache of need in her voice as she watches me closely. “Please make me cum.” There’s an edge to her voice I’ve never heard before. A desperation to feel the magic of my tongue.

I open my lips, kissing her clit before I press my face into her pussy. Her juices cover my chin as I thrash my tongue over her clit. I watch her ass bounce as I hold her in the air and it makes me crazy. I take out all my pent-up desire on her little clit, twisting my tongue over it, contorting it and flickering it until Ella’s breathing turns into shallow pants and she rocks her hips toward me, moaning a long, sweet sigh of pleasure.

“Oh. My. God!” She explodes against my tongue and I lick her juices thirstily. Ella’s body quivers against me and she throws her head back, her long hair cascading down over the counter.

I gently release her hips from my iron grip, lowering her ass back down to the counter, and stand up. I love seeing what I can do to her, the way her face is twisted up with bliss as she writhes on the counter.

“Get over here.” I flip her onto her belly and quickly free my ready cock from my pants. I tug her panties down just past her full cheeks and guide my cock inside her, thrusting deep and hard until I’m buried to my balls, being squeezed tight by her walls.

“Uh!” she cries out and I hold her down against the counter as I fuck her from behind so hard our skin claps together, filling the kitchen with little slapping sounds.

“Do you like that? You want it rough, Ella?” My fingers dig into her shoulders as I press her flat against the counter so her ass is pushed up for me.

“Give it to me hard, Jackson. Make me yours.” She turns her head to the side and flattens her cheek.

I grab her arms and pin them behind her back in one hand, fucking her as she moans. I lick my thumb on my other hand and slide it between her thick cheeks, pressing it up against her asshole. Ella jumps with surprise, but her pussy clenches down against my cock even harder, making beads of sweat break out over my forehead as the tension builds inside me.

“Mmmm, you’re my dirty girl, aren’t you?” I push against her asshole until the tip of my thumb pushes past her body’s resistance and sinks inside.

“Oh!” she whimpers, but thrusts her ass back against me, pushing against my thumb and helping me bury it in her ass as I fuck her hard.

“Where do you want it?” I start to pull back, feeling myself reach the brink. I can’t hold back anymore. I’m going to cum.

“No, don’t pull out. Let me feel you. I want to feel your cum inside me. I want you to fill me up,” she begs in huffy breaths, grinding her ass back.

I can’t resist. I’m already too close. I push my thumb in her ass deep and fill her pussy completely as I sink my cock inside her. My orgasm washes over me, my cum spurting inside her in waves as she cries out and clenches down against me. Her asshole puckers and tightens around my thumb and her pussy milks my cock for every last drop of my seed as I lie against her, motionless except for the last jerking twitches of my cock inside her.

Breathing hard, I lean into her and kiss her shoulder, giving it a little nibble as I step back and my cock slips out. I gently pull my thumb free from her ass and Ella stands up, turning around to face me.

“Happy Birthday, Ella.” I smirk and a sparkle of delight dances in her eyes.

“That was an amazing gift.” She giggles. “Thank you.”

“Oh, that was only the first present. Let’s get you upstairs and I’ll give you your next gift in the shower.” I nod toward the door and we rush up the stairs together.

* * *

A clatter of metal and Chloe’s giggles replace the usual sound of the alarm clock, waking me from my deep sleep.

“Shhh! Daddy, be careful,” I hear the sweet girl scold her father in a whisper that’s probably louder than her regular voice.

The other side of the bed is empty, surprising me that I didn’t hear Jackson get up this morning. Why didn’t he wake me up? Did he sneak out? Or did he wear me out so much last night that I overslept?

“I will be,” Jackson answers her. “Okay, you run up ahead and open the door. Oh, and, Chloe?”

“Yes, Daddy?”

“Don’t forget to ask about the park, all right, hon?”

“You got it.”

I can hear the grin in her voice.

The knob on the bedroom door inches over and then slowly swings into the room as Chloe comes in dancing around excitedly. “She’s awake now, Daddy, come in!” she calls out to the hallway, her wild red hair flickering like flames in the streaks of sun spilling in the window.

“Here we go,” Jackson calls out and steps in the door as I sit up in bed with a smile that turns to total surprise.

“Happy Birthday. Ella!” They both say it at the same time as Jackson walks a red tray with a deluxe breakfast laid out on a plate. Pancakes, bacon, fresh strawberries and cream. It’s way too much for one person to eat, but it all looks so delicious I will give it my best shot. In a mug is a strong black coffee, just how I like it. The fragrant aroma of the rich coffee blends in with the sweet fruit and mingles in the air around us with the small bouquet of wildflowers set in a tiny vase of water on the edge of the tray.

“Do you like the flowers, Ella? I picked them all myself.” Chloe puffs up proudly.

I lift up the vase and inhale the perfume of the daisies, honeysuckles, and clover.

“They’re so beautiful, Chloe, almost as beautiful as you.” I can’t help but return her larger-than-life smile.

“She likes them.” She smiles up at her father gleefully and then starts to dance to a rhythmless song only she can hear.

“We wanted to do something special for you today.” Jackson watches his daughter for a second and chuckles. “I didn’t realize Chloe had a show for you too.” He laughs.

Realizing that all eyes are on her, his daughter sweeps her hands dramatically as she bounds across the bedroom floor, ending her dance in a dizzying twirl and a gracious curtsy.

“Bravo.” I clap and Jackson joins in. Chloe’s grin somehow managed to get just a bit bigger as she soaks in our praise.

“This is a beautiful birthday.” I smile at them. “But I’ve got to say, this is so much breakfast! I don’t think I can eat it all.”

“I can help you.” Chloe struggles to pull herself up the side of the bed, burying her face in the blankets as she tugs herself up with her arms. It looks awkward, but it works because before I have the chance to try to give her a hand, she’s already scooted up beside me in the bed.

“Would you like a piece of bacon?” I hold up a slice and she licks her lips.

“Yes, please.” She reaches out and I hand it to her.

“So, unfortunately I’ve been called into work this morning. I’ve got to head out in about an hour. I was wondering if you’d be able to take care of Chloe?” Jackson looks over at his little daughter, munching on a crispy strip of bacon.

“Of course. I’d love to.” I nod and cut into a pancake, loading up my fork with it and a slice of strawberry, and pop it into my mouth. My eyes roll back in my head as the flavor explodes on my tongue.

“Oh, uh, Daddy? Ella’s gonna take me to the park, right? That’s today?” Chloe tilts her head and furrows her fuzzy little brows.

“Um, well, that’s up to her. What do you think, Ella?” Jackson stands next to the bed, watching us like a painter putting the final brushstrokes on his masterpiece. The pride surging through him almost radiates from him like an aura.

“The park? Sure, I can take you.” I pick up another strawberry and hold it out. Her chubby little fingers pluck it from me and she stuffs the entire thing in her mouth.

“Fanks.”

“Thank you. I can’t wait for us to spend some time together today, Chloe. Just us girls. It’s a wonderful way to spend my birthday.” I look over at Jackson. “And thank you.” My tone grows more vulnerable, more fragile as the effort he put into this breakfast warms my heart. “For everything.”

“Anything to see you smile.” He leans back against the wall, resting his head back, and watches us with a wistful smile. It makes me wish we could photograph this moment. This point in time that I really became a part of their family.

* * *

“Ella, how come that mommy at the park, the one with the black hair, how come she told her little boy to stop picking his nose?” Chloe skips alongside me as I lead her back to the house.

It’s incredible to finally go out around the neighborhood without feeling like I’m sneaking out or breaking some kind of rule that could ruin my life. The sun seems brighter, the sky more blue. Everything feels like it’s been washed in hot water and hung out to dry. The crisp colors of the world glide past us as we walk past the vibrant leaves that will soon drop from the trees.

I force myself to keep a straight face at her question. “Well, because it’s bad manners to pick your nose,” I explain.

“Yeah, but, Ella,” Chloe whines, “then I saw her! I saw that mommy pick her nose right after! Why would she tell that boy not to pick his nose and then she did it too?”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t see her do that,” I admit.

“You know what? Adults are always like that.” She rolls her head and her long hair flops around. “They say ‘don’t talk with your mouth full’ and ‘don’t pick your nose’ and stuff like that! And then they do that too.”

“Really?” I bite the insides of my cheeks, trying not to laugh at the adorable four-year-old rant about adult hypocrisy.

“Really! They do! When I grow up, I’m gonna have three little girls.” She holds up her fingers just in case I’m not sure how many three is. “And I’m gonna say ‘pick your nose, that’s okay!’ and stuff like that ’cause it’s weird that adults do that.” She thrusts her hands on her hips indignantly.

“Sounds like you’ve got a good plan.” I smile.

“Mmm-hmm, oh look! A ladybug.” She stops next to a shrub and points at the red and black insect. The indignation she felt two seconds ago about nose picking seems to have floated away as her interest focuses on something new.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Oh, and we’re home. That one is my house. It’s your house too now, right?” She points to the simple two-storey home about a hundred feet away.

“Yes, I guess it is.” I think about her words. It’s my home. Our home. A peace I can’t remember ever feeling before washes over me as I realize that, after all these years, I finally have a home again.

“I’ll race ya to the door!” Chloe doesn’t give me a countdown or anything, just starts running down the sidewalk to her driveway.

“Hey, no fair!” I jog behind her, making sure she’s a couple short strides ahead of me.

Chloe’s giggles turn to unrestrained laughter as she makes it up the steps and slaps the palms of her hands against the door. “I won!” She cheers.

“Yep, you beat me fair and square.” I laugh and turn the handle, walking inside with her.

As we kick off our shoes in the front hall, I can hear whispers in the other room. I grip my hands on Chloe’s shoulders, pulling her against my legs protectively as I tilt my head and listen. “Hello?”

“Hey, come on in.”

My shoulders relax as Jackson’s voice fills the hallway.

Chloe grasps onto my hand and leads me to her father. We round the corner into the living room and I gasp.

“Happy Birthday!” Jackson and his mother yell as I blink in surprise at the transformed room.

“Wow, it’s so bee-you-tiful!” Chloe exclaims at the criss-cross of streamers twisted across the ceiling.

“You didn’t have to do this.” My eyes flicker from detail to detail. The bouquet of roses on the table, the balloons floating gently around the room, the beautiful cake covered in frosting shaped as flowers on the coffee table.

“Why not? You deserve a beautiful birthday, Ella.” Jackson walks over to me and slides his arms around my waist. “I know nothing could ever replace your quinceañera. I would never want to, but that doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate you every year. I mean, what’s not to celebrate?” He gives me a quick kiss and when I open my eyes I see his mother has her hands clasped over her heart while his daughter is sticking out her tongue in disgust.

“Thank you,” I murmur softly. Over his shoulder, I can see a couple of presents wrapped up at the edge of the table. “For everything. This is more than I ever dreamed of.”

“Can we have cake now? That looks yummy!” Chloe gets straight to the point and we all laugh at her no-nonsense attitude.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” Marie shakes her head. “First we sing Happy Birthday, remember?”

“Oh, right.” Chloe nods at her grandmother. She takes a huge breath and then bursts into song, singing in the loudest, most off-key tone I’ve ever heard and somehow belting out the sweetest version of Happy Birthday.

“Happy birthday, dear El-la, happy birthday to you!” They sing the last line and, as if on cue, a knock at the door makes all our heads turn.

I smirk up at Jackson. “Now what did you do? This is already enough!” I slide my hand out, pointing to all the decor.

“I didn’t do anything.” He frowns. “And I’m not expecting anyone.” He walks across the room and answers the front door.

I can hear a muffled exchange grow heated between Jackson and what sounds like a couple. Oh Lord, did Sylvia and Raymond track me down somehow? Panic grips my heart as the thought forms ice in my veins.

Suddenly Jackson’s voice gets loud as he yells at them, “Hey! You can’t just storm in here. Get the hell out!”

I watch with unblinking horror as he’s pushed back. I can’t imagine Sylvia and Raymond being strong enough to shove him around, not even if they both tried at the same time. Confusion whirls around me like a cyclone as what my eyes expect to see and what I actually see fight it out in my brain.

Bursting in past Jackson are two police officers, a male and female, both wearing jackets that say: ICE Police. I squint at the acronym and my heart drops out of my chest entirely.

“Ella García! We’ve had an anonymous tip that you’ve been illegally working in this country for over six years.” They rush me like football players scrambling for the ball at the championship game.

“I, um, I…” I have no real words. None to defend myself and none to protest. My mouth dries up as fear climbs up inside me, scratching its way to my brain, freezing me to the spot and leaving me breathless.

“Jackson, what’s going on?” Marie lifts Chloe up on her hip and waits for her son to explain.

“I said to get out of my house. You can’t come in here without a warrant. I know my rights.”

I’ve never seen Jackson so angry. His fists ball up at his side the same way they did when he punched out Raymond.

“Don’t, Jackson, don’t make this worse,” I plead with him not to make a stupid mistake that will land him in a jail cell too.

“Daddy, I’m scared,” Chloe cries, her cheeks stretching out and turning bright red as fat tears trickle down to her quivering chin.

“It’s okay, honey, it’s okay.” I try to reassure her. Or maybe it’s myself I’m trying to calm down. Either way, it’s not working.

“Ma’am, can you provide proof of American citizenship or a visa to prove your legal status in this country?” the woman barks at me.

The room is almost silent except for Chloe’s sobbing. Still, it feels like a train derailing. Twisting metal, screaming voices, and shattering glass would be quieter than the air is right now. I take in Jackson, the man I love. The man I’ll never see again. Tears blur my vision and I shake my head from side to side slowly.

“Then I need to inform you that you’re under arrest.” The man walks over to me and pulls out handcuffs, clicking them down onto my wrist tight.

“Is that really necessary?” Jackson rushes over to me. “She’s not fighting you. Take it off,” he growls.

“It’s procedure.” The man ignores him, but instead of clipping my hands together behind my back, he at least lets me keep them together in front of me. It’s a small human kindness, but it’s still one I appreciate.

“Jackson, please, listen to me.” I twist my mother’s ring up off my finger and hold it out to him. “I want you to have this.”

“I can’t take that.” Tears fill his eyes as he looks from the officers’ faces to mine. “I know how much that ring means to you.” His voice breaks.

“And that’s exactly why I need you to have it. Someday you’ll find me and put it back on my finger, but until then, I want you to keep it to remember me by,” I sob.

“Ella, are you sure?” He reaches out and touches the diamond crusted band and I nod, no longer able to utter words from how hard I’m crying.

“Okay, enough of this. Do you have the ring, sir? Great, time to head out!”

“Where are they taking her? Ella! Don’t go,” Chloe cries as the officers lead me back out the front door. “Ella!” Her tiny voice cracks as she screams for me. “Please, don’t go!”

The officers lead me out of the house. A house that only half an hour ago I considered my home. My home. How stupid could I be? I can’t even look out the window as the police put me in the back of the car. I can’t face the shattered expressions of the family I fell in love with. I broke their hearts. I can’t believe I let myself think I could ever belong here. That I could have my own happiness. That I deserved my own love. I lean over in the seat, my breaths hitching in my throat as tears pour down my face.

I must be cursed. I’ve lost everything. And everyone I’ve ever loved.

Again.

* * *

I trudge into my empty bedroom and flop down onto the bed. I’m completely worn out. After work, I had Mom stay and babysit Chloe so I could call every number I could possibly get my hands on to try to figure out how to get Ella back. I spent hours getting transferred from department to department and then back again, only to be told there’s nothing I can do.

There’s nothing they can do.

Apparently there’s nothing anyone can do.

Their best advice was to wait and see what the outcome would be. Ella has been gone since yesterday. That’s when the ICE officers ripped a gaping black hole in our lives and took her away from us. ‘Wait and see’ doesn’t exactly cut it.

My bleary eyes settle on the alarm clock. I can’t believe it’s only a little after nine. I haven’t been this exhausted since my days in the SEALs. How can dealing with red tape and bureaucracy make me just as tired as when I did physically grueling training for sixteen hours a day?

I don’t even bother getting all tucked into bed. Instead, I yank the corner of my blanket over me so I’m wrapped up like a burrito and let my head sink into my pillow. I blink slowly. My head is pounding and the voices of all the government agents I spoke to on the phone buzz in my ears as my body drifts into sleep.

“Oh no! Daddy! Help me!” Chloe’s voice makes my eyelids pop back open as I fling back the blanket and leap from the bed. Immediately I rush to her room, my heart pounding as my suddenly very awake senses search for danger.

Tears streak down her face as she shakes like a leaf under her little blanket. “Chloe! What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

Her finger trembles as she points to her window. I cross the floor and look outside but don’t see anything.

“I saw him, Daddy.” She chokes on her words and sputters them out. “Hampy was there. He came back again.” She winces at the giant imaginary spider that I thought we’d gotten rid of for good.

Of course Hampy is back. Ella is gone. Her magic song is gone. All this confusion and sadness is too much for me, let alone a little girl. Her world has been tossed into chaos and her young brain is trying to make as much sense of all this as it can.

“Chloe, it’s okay, hon. Hampy isn’t real, remember? You just had a bad dream, sweetheart.” I sit beside her bed and my daughter scoots into my arms, clinging onto me tight.

“No, he’s real,” she insists, “I saw him on the window. Ella isn’t here and he’s not scared of her song no more.”

I rock her gently in my arms and listen to her fears.

“Sometimes dreams can feel real, but I promise you, hon, there’s no big spider like that here. I swear.” I brush her tear-soaked hair from the side of her face.

Chloe regards me skeptically. Like she wants to believe me, but she isn’t fully convinced just yet. “Dad?” Her eyebrows scrunch together.

“Yes?”

“Is Ella a bad woman? Is that why the police took her?” She sits back in her bed, waiting for me to make sense of a senseless act for her.

“No, she’s not bad at all,” I reassure her.

“Then why’d they take her?” She frowns again.

“It’s complicated.” I sigh. “The police might want Ella to go back to the country she was born in.” My lips tug down as her eyes grow wide.

“No! She can’t leave. Tell them she can stay here, with us. Don’t make her go away!” Fresh tears fall from the brim of her eyes and blot on her fuzzy pajamas.

“We don’t know if that’s going to happen yet, so let’s not get too worried about it. These things take time.” I echo the frustrating words I heard over and over on the phone today.

“But I miss her so much.” Chloe holds her hands over her heart and it almost tears mine right out of my chest.

“I know, hon. I do too. And I know she misses us.” My voice cracks. I swallow hard to get control, pushing down my own pain. “Come here.” I give her another hug and Chloe begins to calm down.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“Did I do something bad?” she whispers against my chest, like she’s afraid of the answer.

“Not at all. Why would you say that?”

“I dunno.” Her tiny shoulders shrug. “First I had a mommy and then she died. Then I had Ella and she was taken away too. Maybe I did something bad? Maybe I can’t have any more moms.” Her brilliant blue eyes shine with tears.

“No, Chloe.” I swallow the growing lump in my throat as her question reached into my chest and tore out my heart. “You’re not bad at all. Those things have nothing to do with you, baby. You’re a perfect daughter, okay? Nothing you ever think or feel or say or do will ever make people go away. Don’t think that because it’s not true.” A tear slides down my face and I brush it away quickly, struggling to keep myself under control, to be the rock she needs. Her question was like a dagger to the gut, leaving me emotionally crumpled on the ground.

Chloe sniffles and I hold her close, rocking her in my arms as we both try to understand the dull ache that Ella’s absence has left in our lives. I don’t have the heart to explain that Ella might never be coming back. It’s too awful to even think those words. I don’t have the strength to admit it to myself that we may have both just lost a woman we loved.

* * *

I’ve been sitting in this room for probably close to an hour, but no one has come to talk to me yet. It doesn’t look like the dark, sinister interrogation rooms I’ve caught glimpses of on television shows. There’s no bare bulb hanging over the table and no fake mirror on the wall that they can watch me through.

Fear keeps splashing around in my gut like waves tossing around a small boat on the open seas. I try not to let it overtake me, but I want to lean over and hyperventilate. I want to scream. I want to bang on the door and cry until they let me out of here. But I know none of that will help me. It’s no use. I’m trapped. Again.

No, this space is bright. Almost too bright. The multiple fluorescent lights overhead make me want to shield my eyes. The desk is similar to my family’s old kitchen table and the chairs could have easily been taken from a classroom. On the opposite wall is an unblinking eye of a camera, recording my every move.

Not that I’m giving them much of a show. Occasionally crossing and uncrossing my legs and fidgeting with the space on my finger where my ring should be isn’t exactly interesting for them to watch.

The door silently opens and my head pops over to watch an officer I haven’t met yet walk in with some papers in his hand. He’s taller than average with silver hair and milky blue eyes.

“Hello, I’m Officer Parks.” He sounds bored and never lifts his gaze from the page he’s reading. “I’ll be asking you a few questions today.” He shuts the door behind him and takes a seat across from me.

I don’t say a word. He hasn’t asked me anything yet and I’m not sure if I should speak. I just watch as he keeps reading, acting like we’re not even in the same room. Just as I wonder if he’s ever going to say anything the door opens again.

“Sorry.” A woman looks over at the aging policeman sitting across from me. She smiles at me brightly and comes over to the table. “Hey, I’m Sofia. Well, Officer Martinez.” She holds out her hand to me and I shake it gingerly. I’m surprised to hear her Spanish accent roll from her tongue. With her rich, brown hair and deep mahogany eyes, she makes me think of how much different my life could’ve turned out if I had become a legal citizen of this country.

She takes a seat beside her partner, the man who still hasn’t uttered a word. His silence makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know how to read him. His expression is stony as he finally lifts his eyes from the page and pins them across the table on me.

“Let’s get this started.” He sounds like this is the millionth time he’s gone through this routine and he couldn’t possibly find it less interesting. “For the record, state your name, your age, and your country of birth.”

“I am Ella Garcia, I’m twenty-one years old, and I was born in Colombia,” I answer obediently.

“Oh, we would’ve been neighbors.” Sofia’s eyes light up. “I was born in Ecuador, but I came here when I was very young,” she explains.

There’s something about her that makes me relax. Listening to her familiar accent, seeing the kindness in her eyes, the tension in my muscles eases as I relax into the chair.

“I’ve never been to Ecuador,” I admit, “but I’ve heard it’s very beautiful.”

“Okay, enough chit-chat. How about we get into how you found your way into America, Ella.” Officer Parks snaps the focus back to his case.

“My father crossed the Úsuga Clan in Colombia.” I stop and peer across the table at Sofia, who shakes her head knowingly. “My mother and two brothers paid the price for his betrayal. I hid under the bed as they raped her and then killed them all.” I try not to think about my words. I don’t want to feel attached to them, to the images. I just can’t let my mind go there right now.

“I’m so sorry,” Ms. Martinez whispers.

I nod, swallowing the lump rising in my throat. “Thank you. So, my father knew I would suffer my mother’s fate if he didn’t get me out of the country. He had business ties to a family here and paid a coyote to have me shipped up here in the back of a truck with a bunch of other girls. I was the oldest one and that was six years ago.” More thoughts I try to push away, knowing full well that the lives those children were thrust into made mine look like paradise.

“Okay, so you didn’t come up to stay with family? You went to a business associate’s house? What kind of business?” Officer Parks frowns at me.

“Human smuggling business.” I bite my tongue, not sure if I should tell them. Should I spill everything about Sylvia’s job? Should I tell them how she buys girls, the younger the better, and sells them into sex slavery or off to rich psychopaths who are probably much worse? Part of me fears like I’ve been trained to for years now, that if I give up too much, somehow she’ll find me and make good on every single threat she’s screamed in my face over the years.

“You said this was six years ago?” Sofia furrows her brows. “So you were, what? Fifteen when you came here?”

“Yes.”

“And you said the other girls, they were younger?”

“Yes.”

“How much younger?”

My thoughts jump back to the dark heat of being locked inside of the back of the long haul truck. The other children were several years my junior. Many of them clung onto me since I was the oldest, like a child clings to their mama.

“I would guess the youngest was eight and the next oldest after me was twelve.”

“Do you know if they were also being placed in homes?”

“No, they were not.”

Sofia and Officer Parks exchange a glance.

“Tell me, Ella, what have you been doing for the last six years? You haven’t gone to school, right? Have you been working here?” the man with the icy blue eyes asks me.

“I’ve been working, but I didn’t get paid. Most times I wasn’t allowed to leave the house or eat more than one meal a day. I cooked, cleaned, ran errands and basically did whatever I was told,” I admit.

There’s that look again. The officers are having a silent conversation in glances.

“Ella, do you know what the woman’s name was that you lived with?”

“Yes, her name is Sylvia Thurston.”

“And do you know how she made her money, Ella?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I swallow and force myself to be brave. There’s nothing she can do to me now. I must tell the police what a horrible person Sylvia is so maybe they can stop her from harming more children. “She bought very young girls and sold them into unpaid prostitution. They became slaves. She never talked to me about it, but I met some of them and she constantly threatened to do the same to me if I stepped out of line.” My voice wavers as I make the heavy confession, releasing a burden from my soul so dark, so completely horrid that as soon as the words finally tumble off my tongue I can’t help but break down and sob.

I shelter my face in my hands, letting my tears fall into my palms, and my shoulders shake ruthlessly. All of the years of tears I’ve been swallowing come gushing out like water from a broken levy.

“Okay, um, I’m going to need you to hang tight. Officer Martinez and I need to discuss some things, but we’ll be back, got it?” he gruffly asks me.

I nod, still unable to get myself under control. All the faces of the kids I’ve met and watched be taken away over the years swirl through my mind. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, and right now I don’t even care. As long as the police do something to stop yet another girl from being processed by Sylvia and shipped off to the most disgusting men in existence, I will be happy.

* * *

“So all of your paperwork, your statement, and your photos are being sent off for processing,” Officer Knight explains everything again, her deep chocolate eyes brimming with compassion.

“Does that mean I’m free to go?” I search her face anxiously, watching her thick lips pull up into a soft smile.

“It does. We’ve already gotten a hold of Mr. Wilcox. He’s agreed to come pick you up. Listen, before you go, I just want to tell you how sorry I am to hear what you’ve been through. I can’t imagine how difficult any of this must have been, and I want to thank you for how brave you are to help us prosecute the human traffickers who enslaved you.”

Sylvia’s and Raymond’s faces flash before my eyes. I can only imagine that it was them who called in the anonymous tip to try to have me deported. Who else would’ve done that? The only other person in this entire country who knew I was illegal was Jackson and he’d rather die than betray me. They must have thought I would be tossed out of the country, keeping their sinister secrets safe and their business running. Lucky for me, I had the opportunity to tell my story.

“Thank you.” I peer down at my hands. “I’m so grateful for all of your help to get the T-visa. I didn’t even know such a thing existed! I hope it goes through quickly.”

“Well, I can’t say for sure that you’ll get it, but I will say this, I’ve never seen such a compelling case for that visa. And, if you do get it, you’ll be permitted to stay in the country for four years. After three years, you’ll be eligible for a green card, so just cooperate with the police in this case to your fullest ability and I can’t see why you’d have a problem on your path to citizenship,” she explains.

I can’t hide the smile stretched across my face. It’s actually hurting my cheeks, that’s how big it is. I know it will take a few months to know for sure if I get the visa, but this is the first shred of hope I’ve had in years.

“I promise, I will. I’ll do whatever I can to help them.” I nod.

The sweet woman stands up and I follow her, practically gliding behind her as she walks me out to the waiting room.

Through the glass door I can see Jackson pacing, absolutely frantic. His hair is a mess, his eyes have deep circles beneath them. I’ve never seen him so worn down. Even now, when his body is so clearly in need of a good night’s rest, he’s unbelievably sexy.

I want to race into his arms and plant a million kisses over his face. However, I can’t do anything because Officer Knight holds out her hand to shake mine and I give it a squeeze.

“You take care of yourself out there.” She holds my hand in a long shake and rests her other hand on my shoulder. “And if you have any problems don’t be afraid to contact the police, remember? We’re here to help you.”

“I will.” I nod solemnly, looking straight into her dark eyes. She lets go of my hand and opens the door for me.

“Goodbye, Ella.” She smiles.

“Bye.” I don’t even turn my head back over my shoulder to utter the words. I just walk in tiny, rapid steps over to Jackson. I watch as he drags his fingers over his hair and down the back of his neck and then holds out his arms for me.

I leap into his embrace and he clutches me so tight it almost squeezes the wind from my lungs.

“I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.” His voice cracks and he kisses me tenderly. As he places me back down on my feet, he wipes tears from his cheeks.

Seeing him so choked up brings my own emotions bubbling back up to the surface. The tears I thought I was finished crying immediately spring back to my eyes, making the world look like it’s underwater.

“Come on.” He puts me back on my feet and wipes his thumbs under my eyes, swiping away my tears. “Let’s get you out of here.”

My hand tingles with warmth as Jackson tenderly grasps it and leads me out of the building into the crisp afternoon. The parking lot that I thought looked like a sinister graveyard of cars when I was brought here is somehow cheerful now. The bright colors of the vehicles compete for my attention with the flame-colored hues of the autumn leaves dangling from the trees above.

I scan the vehicles for Jackson’s car, but he doesn’t take me out to the lot, instead leads me down a path that guides us out to the sidewalk. “I hope you don’t mind a little walk. I left the car up the road by the park. I’ve been here for hours waiting and just needed to go clear my head. It’s not too far.”

“I don’t mind at all.” I cling onto his arm, giving his burly bicep a squeeze. “I’m happy going anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”

I soak in the beauty of nature, marveling at the spectacular pops of color among the mellow, warm tones in the leaves. I’ve lived in America for over six years now, and I’ve never truly had the chance to just enjoy a leisurely stroll and get lost in the magic of the season. As I listen to the crunch of fallen leaves under my feet and watch as a fluffy-tailed squirrel performs an acrobatic show above us, leaping fearlessly from branch to branch, I realize I’m the luckiest woman alive.

Jackson clears his throat, breaking the trance I was in. “So, I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this or not, but I was a Navy SEAL.” He chuckles dryly and I giggle.

Turning my head to him, my laughter immediately dries to dust and blows away on the wind.

He’s crying.

Not a single tear that can be flicked away and easily forgotten, but real tears flow like tiny rivers down his face. He wipes the back of his hand over each cheek, but he can’t keep them inside.

“What’s wrong?” I slow my pace and study his face, searching for a reason he’s so upset. We stop in our tracks, standing outside the large wrought iron gates leading into the park. Towering over each side of the gate are old oak trees, leaning toward each other like a giant arbor welcoming us.

“I need to tell you this.” He swallows hard and lets out a long, unsteady breath. “When I was a SEAL I learned a lot about life. I met guys who became blood to me. It felt like when you grow up with someone, you know? That lifelong bond you form with the boys you used to build tree forts with or play ball with, except with the SEALs that bond was instant. Our brotherhood was formed in moments of hardship and despair.”

I drop my hand from Jackson’s arm, twisting toward him so I can fully face him, so I can fully understand his words. “I understand.”

He nods slowly, trying to collect his scattered thoughts like someone trying to catch dandelion seeds across a field. I don’t care how long it takes him to find his words. I’m not going anywhere. There’s nothing more important to me than to hear what he has to say right now.

“The thing the SEALs taught me the most was that in a blink of an eye, everything can change. In an instant I saw men I was convinced were the strongest in our basic training course go ring the bell. I saw men who I thought were weak or scared become brave and strong. I saw men lose everything, lose their lives, just like that.” He snaps his fingers and I jump.

My chin quivers. I understand his pain clearly. Obviously, I’ve never been on a Special Forces team, but the day I lost my family forever, the day they were ruthlessly and senselessly murdered, it happened in an instant.

“Jackson, I’m so sorry for your loss.” I brush my fingers down his arms, but he holds up his hand, silencing me.

“The reason I’m telling you this is because the instant I met you, Ella, I knew there was something here. It turns out that those little moments, those seconds that change your life forever aren’t always bad. Sometimes a second is all it takes for everything to get better. Chloe came into my life when the pain felt like it was too much to bear anymore and changed it forever. And all it took was an instant to know that I was in love with you.”

Jackson reaches into his pocket and looks down at the ring I gave him. My mother’s wedding band. He sniffles. “You told me that someday I’d give this back to you again, and you were right.” He slides down on his knee and my hands flutter up over my open mouth. My eyes grow wide as I realize what he’s doing. “Ella, I know what this ring means to you and for you to have given it to me when you never knew if you’d see my face again, that meant the world. But now I’d like to give it back. I will get you another ring, but right now I can’t think of a better one to ask you: will you be my wife?”

“Yes!” I cry and hold out my trembling hand. Jackson slides the ring on my finger and my chest might burst open from happiness. Tears fall down my face and my knees grow wobbly as he stands back up and cups my chin, lifts my lips to his, and kisses me tenderly.

“I love you, Ella.” He looks deep into my eyes and I can feel the truth in his words.

“I love you too.” I smile up at him. A few bright leaves drift down lazily over us, like nature’s confetti and I disappear into the beauty of this man with whom I’ll spend the rest of my days. The beauty of this moment. The beauty of this life.

* * *

Ella’s friend, Julianna, waves at us from the reception doors. “Ready?”

“Yes,” we answer in unison.

Flipping her grown out blue hair back, she clears her throat. “And now the moment we’ve all been waiting for! Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in giving a warm reception to our newlyweds! Stand up and let’s hear it for Mr. and Mrs. Wilcox!” She claps her hands and moves to the side.

I hold Ella’s fingers in my hand and walk next to her into the hall. A sea of people part as we make our entrance, all of them clapping enthusiastically and smiling. To the side I can see my old Lieutenant Connor with his fiancée Charlotte. He gives me a fist pump in the air and it reminds me of the old days when he led our platoon and always knew how to encourage us to put our best foot forward.

I hope I can put my best foot forward right now. I swallow nervously and lead Ella to the dance floor. As we walk through the crowd, I smile at my SEAL buddy Gabe and his new wife, Vanessa. It makes me happy to see him finally settled down with someone. After our improvised explosive attack, he suffered badly, wearing the scars of that day on his face forever. It makes me happy to know he found someone who saw beyond the superficial and got to know and love the real him.

We step out onto the cleared dance floor and Julianna makes another announcement as I gaze at the crowd gathered on the sidelines.

“The couple will now share their first dance in marriage.” She nods to the DJ and we wait for what feels like an eternity for the music to start.

“I love you, Daddy!” Chloe yells out from a couple feet away.

The crowd awwws and I can’t blame them one bit. She’s as cute as ever in her little flower girl dress. She told me this morning that today she knew what it was like to be a real princess as the hairstylist pinned a band of baby’s breath flowers into her hair.

“I love you too, hon.” I blow her a kiss and she pretends to catch it in the air and then eat it. I just shake my head as the people around her laugh.

My eyes drift over to my mother. She’s right next to Chloe, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. She was a total wreck at the wedding, but she kept insisting she was crying happy tears. My daughter didn’t understand it at all. To be honest, I don’t really understand it either. All I know is my family has never been happier, or more whole, since Ella joined us.

Ryan’s deep blue eyes twinkle as he lays a reassuring hand on my mother’s shoulder. I squint at him, feeling anything but reassured by his gesture. Luckily I don’t have time to overthink it because the music starts and I focus on Ella, my wife, looking for her lead.

The song we first danced to, “Despacito,” begins to play. “Just do it how I taught you. You’re going to be amazing.” She gives me a smile that melts my worries away. A smile that makes me realize that even if I mess up this dance, even if I trip or fall on my ass in front of everyone, it won’t matter one bit. I’ll still walk out of here as the luckiest man on earth.

I slowly waltz with Ella, leading her around the floor for the slow opening of the song. I’m counting my steps in my head and trying not to step on her long wedding dress the color of fresh fallen snow. As the music speeds up I meet her eyes and change my hand position, getting ready to do the dance we’ve been practicing for months now. The salsa.

I step and move my hips and, magically, the movements become natural. I don’t even have to think about what my next move is. My body just knows what to do. Instead, I get lost in Ella’s beautiful upswept hair and the long line of her delicate neck that I want to kiss. I study her large brown eyes and her crimson lips. She’s breathtaking.

I turn her and her dress billows out as she twirls around and comes back into me. The song I once stepped on her feet trying to dance to has become special to us. What started as an inside joke between us became layered with meaning as we realized it was that night and that song that started it all for us.

The music peters out and I take my new bride in my arms, dipping her low and then lifting her back up into a long kiss that makes me wish we could run right back out those reception doors and rip our clothes off. When I step back, the rest of the room comes back into focus. All of our friends and my family, now her family too, cheer and whistle for us loudly.

“I love you so much,” I murmur into her ear and she smiles against my cheek.

“I love you too, Jackson. From now until forever.”

As I look around from the faces of the men I served with to my mother, my child and now, my wife, I suddenly understand the idea of ‘happy tears.’ My eyes mist up and my throat feels raw as I realize how remarkable this journey has been. I can’t believe I ever thought of ending my days on this earth. If I had done that, I never would have met my wonderful child. I would have never met this woman in front of me that I still can’t believe I’m lucky enough to call mine. All I would have done is break my mother’s heart and become another veteran statistic. Since that day, every single moment of my life has gotten better. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s been worth every step and every stumble that led me here.

* * *

“This place is paradise.” Ella stands next to my lounge chair and smiles and looks down the pristine shoreline of the Molokai beach.

I have to agree with her. I’ve been quite a few places in the world, but very few can compare to the bleached white sand and the bright teal waves of Hawaii. I knew I wanted to bring Ella here for our honeymoon so she could experience it firsthand.

Chloe and my mother have been loving every second of making sandcastles and exploring the lush, green walking trails. A lot of people gave me a weird look when they found out that all of us were making this trip together. Like there’s some rule out there that says only the newlyweds can go on a honeymoon vacation. But with my mom looking after Chloe in her room and Ella and I in our own luxurious suite, there’s been plenty of late evening and lazy mornings full of fucking until we both couldn’t move anymore. The way I see it, this is the best of both worlds. I get to see my daughter in the daytime and I get to try to make her a little sibling at night.

“If this is paradise, then you’re my angel.” I reach up around her waist and pull her down into my lap as she laughs.

I pull her into my lap and she squirms around a little, driving me crazy. My cock instantly rushes with blood, growing rigid under her full ass. A twinkle dances in Ella’s eyes as she smiles knowingly over her shoulder at me. I look down the beach, it looks like we have it all to ourselves. One of the benefits of coming to one of Hawaii’s lesser known islands. And, since my mother and Chloe are out exploring this afternoon, I know that we will keep having this beach to ourselves for quite a while.

“You’re so bad,” Ella whispers. She teases me, grinding her hips softly until I can feel the heat of her pussy envelop me.

“You haven’t seen anything yet. If you’re my angel, I think I’m about to get your halo dirty,” I murmur.

Sliding my hands up her thick thighs, I softly push them open so she’s straddling me. My cock presses up tight into her spread ass cheeks, our flimsy bathing suits doing very little to stop it. I glance each way down the beach again, but there’s no one around. I lick my thumb and slide it under the front of her bikini bottoms, pressing it up flat against her clit as she whimpers and rocks against me.

Ella’s hands grip the arms of my lounge chair tight. Her plump ass covers my cock, making me throb with need as she grinds down against me, her hair cascades down her back and onto my belly as she moans and I hold my thumb steady on her clit. When she begins to moan, I can’t hold back my desire anymore. I wrap my hand in her hair, and tug it back to me so she’s arched backward over my body and I kiss an urgent trail over her neck. Ella mewls helplessly, her body a prisoner of pleasure.

“I can’t hold back, I need you now,” I growl in her ear. I pull my hand free from her white bottoms and she cries out in protest. Grabbing the little bow on the side of her hip, I pull the string open and her bikini falls open, exposing her beautiful bubble butt.

My cock throbs, begging to be freed from my swim trunks. Ella lifts her hips and I quickly flip the waistband down until my fat cock swings up to meet her. Holding the base firm, I slide it into her soaking pussy. I can’t help the loud groan as she spreads for me, her body perfectly fitting against mine, her walls squeezing down on my shaft.

I slide my thumb over her shaved pussy until I reach her firm nub again and she throws her head back, pressing her tits out toward the ocean and slides further down my cock. I pull her hair tight around my fist, keeping her arched out so I can see the way the small of her back curves out into her full hips and down to the soft jiggle of her ass as I thrust inside her as deep as I can.

Ella grips my chair so tight I can see her knuckles strain with the pressure. I thrust into her, owning her movements, owning her pleasure, from under her. Her pussy clenches tight, reminding me with every thrust that I’m the only man she’s ever experienced. That I’m the only man she’ll ever have.

“Oh! Jackson,” she cries out at the clear blue sky. I can feel the quiver of her orgasm as it shreds through her body. Her pussy milks my cock desperately and I can barely hang on.

I lift my thumb, coated in her sweet juices, “Lick it off sweetheart, every drop,” I demand. Pushing my slick thumb in past her lips, Ella sucks on it greedily, driving me wild.

Holding her hair tight, I fuck her so hard I wonder if we might collapse through this chair and fall onto the sand. Even if we do, I won’t stop. I can’t. I need to feel her body wrapped around me. I need to make her mine. I fuck her hard as she gasps and my thumb drops from her lips. I wrap my arm around her waist and hold her tight, pushing every inch of my cock inside her again and again.

I can feel the blissful heat of my orgasm shiver through me, my cock spurts cum inside her deep as I bottom out against her. Holding her still, I keep her flat against my body until every last drop has filled her sweet pussy. As the shudders lessen, I lean in and kiss her neck again. This time slowly, sweetly. A haze of happiness radiates from us as I let my fingertips explore her soft skin.

“I love you, Ella,” I breath the words into her ear.

“I love you too Jackson, so much,” she relaxes back into my arms, neither of us eager for me to pull out. Neither of us wanting to separate even that much. Both of us enjoying the perfection of this moment in silence.