Chapter Eleven
Clove
“Journey!” I scream. Oh God.
My head is throbbing as if it is being compressed between two heavy bricks.
“Journey!” I scream again.
Where is she? Where am I? Son of a bitch! I can’t move my legs or my arms. It’s so dark. Panic shoots through me. I rotate my head nervously to the left and then to the right.
I wiggle my legs and hands profusely trying to break free. They are taped so damn tight they won’t budge. I lift my hands, trying to bring them to my mouth to chew the tape free when they smack against the top of this confined space.
“Oh, my God.”
The bitch has me in the trunk of her car. My daughter! Does she have her? How long have I been out?
“You fucking bitch! I am going to kill you! Give me back my baby!”
I cannot control my scared tears any longer. Sudden fear runs up and down my entire body. The loneliness I have felt for so long kicks in, the darkness from this trunk making it so much worse. Not having my little girl with me triples it.
I cry for the longest time, listening to myself and the sound of the car zooming down the road. I have no idea where we are or how long I have been out.
And Trent. My mind goes to him, too. That crazy bitch shot him. Is he dead? Even after his role in all of this, I don’t want him to die. I may have thought I hated him for what he has done, but I don’t. His may be a sick and twisted kind of love, one I never reciprocated and never will, but I know without a shadow of a doubt he cares deeply for me.
I choke on my tears, coughing and gagging. My heart races a thousand miles a minute as the time seems to tick by so goddamn slowly. Closing my eyes and taking deep breaths, I inhale and exhale until I feel myself start to calm down. The palpitating ache in my head doesn’t even come close to the ache in my heart.
I begin chewing on the tape, gnawing away small sections at a time. I just had a breakdown, one that I needed. Now that it is over, I am angry. That bitch has my child. Mine and Turner’s.
Turner.
I recall Trent’s revelation as he stood in the doorway. For the briefest of seconds, I hope what he said could be true, even though I know it can’t be. I saw his body crumple to the floor in a heap with my own eyes when Trent shot him, a pool of blood spreading underneath him. Why would Trent say Turner is alive? And what happened between my mother and him to make her shoot him? This doesn’t make any sense at all.
Finally, my hands are free. Tossing the tape to the side, I begin to rub my tender wrists slowly, feeling the blood start to bring them back from discomfort and numbness. My mind keeps rewinding back to Trent and what he said.
“Turner is alive.”
That is all I can remember, nothing more. I would give anything for that statement to be true, but right now, I need to try and figure out how the hell I am going to escape from this trunk and get to my daughter.
I feel around, touching the entire surface area of the compartment, chuckling to myself thinking how in the hell that bitch got me in here all by herself. She’s determined, if nothing else. Greedy cunt.
“What’s this?” I feel a button on the cold metal of the trunk. Not wanting to push it because I suspect I know exactly what it is, I withdraw my fingers and bingo. It’s the trunk release button. It has to be.
Not knowing when or where we will be stopping, my next task is to get this stupid tape off from around my ankles. Rolling my body to the side, I curl up into a fetal position. Shit, this is hard in such a tiny space. My legs cramp and I scream in pain from not being able to stretch. God bless it!
My small digits tremble as I tug and pull, body twisting, hands and arms extending as I work on loosening this tape. Finally, I sigh when I feel either the beginning or ending of the strand. I yank with all of my might until I feel it give. It’s so damn hot in here that by the time I get this tape off and maneuver my body into a position where I feel a little bit comfortable, sweat is pouring down my face and neck.
I feel myself start to doze. I struggle to keep myself awake, but I can’t. My body gives in to the exhaustion and I fall sleep. When I do, I have the best dream I have had in as long as I can remember.
“Good morning, beautiful. Happy anniversary!” Turner whispers softly into my ear as his arms circle my waist.
“Happy anniversary to you, too.”
I lean my head back on his strong shoulder, standing in front of the mirror as we get ready for work.
“Would you like your present now or later?” he asks, pressing his already swollen dick into my back.
“How about now and later?” I giggle, wiggling in his hold, moving back and forth across his erection.
“You know I can never deny you, but this morning I have an early meeting. I promise to make it up to you later.”
He kisses my cheek and pulls away, leaving me pouting.
“There’s a gift for you on the bed, babe.”
I finish applying my makeup, excitement coursing through my veins as I wonder what it could be. This year we had decided that instead of buying each other gifts, we would finish the deck on the back of the house.
Practically running into the bedroom, I stop at the end of the bed where a single white envelope waits.
“What is this?” I ask. Picking up the envelope and pulling out the single sheet of paper, I laugh out loud as I read the note.
Clove,
Two years ago, I married my best friend. I love you more every day. I’m waiting here for you. If you know where here is?
Love, Turner.
“I know exactly where here is, you crazy man.”
Stuffing the small note back into the envelope, I run down the stairs, snatching my purse and keys off of the counter and locking up behind me.
An hour later, I am pulling up to the lake where Turner proposed to me. Placing my car in park right next to his, I roll down the window and breathe in the warm early summer air, staring at the man I am so deeply in love with. His body is propped up against a tree, the tall green grass up to his knees and his eyes pinned directly on me. If a man could be beautiful, he would be, with his square jaw, broad shoulders, and long, muscular legs. I sigh as I get out of the car and go to him.
“You found me.”
His brows quirk up, his gaze travels up and down my body.
“Of course I did. In my favorite spot in the world.”
I stop directly in front of him, our bodies inches apart.
He leans forward and places a tender kiss on one cheek then the other, moving ever so slowly to the corner of my mouth. Our eyes are locked on each other, our breathing becoming heavier with each passing second. When his lips touch mine, I melt, not from the heat of the Georgia sun, but from his scorching kiss. He is devouring my mouth as if this was his first taste of me and he craves more. He kisses me like we are fused together and he never wants us to separate. His hands move to cup my ass, drawing me in closer to him. I feel what he had left me craving an hour ago when he left me at home.
He lifts me up, my legs clinging around his waist, my long flowing yellow dress pooling around my thighs. He shifts us around until I am the one up against the tree.
“We have way too many clothes on, don’t you think?” he says as he nips up and down my neck, stopping at the dip of cleavage my dress is exposing.
“We do.”
His lips never leave my skin as he shucks himself out of his suit jacket. The minute it’s off, my hands are wildly unbuttoning his shirt, practically ripping it off of his body. Skating my nails down his chest, across his smooth, taut abs, he quivers from my touch.
His demanding tongue strokes deeply, circling slowly with mine. I pull the button of his dress slacks undone and shove his pants down, then pull him into me, gripping the firmest ass in the whole damn world.
“God, I want you so damn bad,” he breathes hoarsely, pulling away from me as he spins me around. My arms circle the tree and he unzips my dress, pulling the spaghetti straps down and kissing every inch of my exposed skin as he goes. I clench my legs together from the deep ache I feel from needing him inside of me.
“Open them,” he commands while he kneels down behind me, tapping each foot to have me step out of my dress. I open my legs, looking behind me to see his shocked expression.
“No panties?”
“No.”
“Damn, Clove. This is the best view of your perfect pussy I have ever had. The sun is showing me how wet you are for me. Turn around, babe. My tongue needs to taste you.”
My body is on overload as he yanks his boxers down, places his suit jacket on the ground, and lowers his body into the grass.
“Come here.”
His hands go around my ankles, helping guide me down onto his face.
“Oh, my,” I moan into the open field when his tongue takes its first swipe, swirling and dipping deep into my core. He stops and begins to blow softly onto my pussy. My hands dig deep into his hair.
“Turner. God, I can’t take it.”
“Oh, you will take it, all right. Everything I give you, you will take. Now, I’m starving.”
My clit is aching for him to touch it, to nibble and suck it deep. It’s as if he is ignoring my most sensitive part on purpose as he teases me, seduces me in ways like never before.
Finally, he nips at my clit and proceeds to eat me like he hasn’t had a meal in weeks. Back and forth he licks from the inside out as I wiggle and squirm, shoving my face farther into his gloriously talented mouth.
“Fuck, you taste so good.”
That’s the only thing he says as he continues putting his tongue inside of me, twirling it, probing and fucking me wildly with his mouth.
Sturdy hands hold me steadily by my ass, making it next to impossible to move. My head falls back, my long hair cascading down my back. I let out the loudest cry of pure pleasure when he centers his mouth over my clit, flicking it with his tongue, moving side to side and up and down. After a few minutes of this, he moves in and sucks on it like a vacuum. That is all it takes for me to have an intense, explosive orgasm, chanting his name over and over again.
Giving me no time at all to come down from my high, he lets go of my ass and unclasps my bra, the straps falling down my arms on their own, exposing my breasts.
“Jesus. You are so beautiful, and I am so damn lucky. Ride me. Right here where I asked you to be my wife, ride me and let me watch you.”
He doesn’t even have to ask. I fling my bra off into the grass and move seductively down his body, dragging my bare, soaking pussy down his bare chest, leaving a trail of wet juices as I go.
Facing him, I grasp his cock and slide my hand up and down, giving him one long pump. My eyebrows go up; he lifts one corner of his mouth in response.
I clench as I line him up then slam myself down onto his thick, hard shaft. I piston myself up and down, feeling him deep inside as he pumps his hips up into me.
“God, look at you. The vision of you riding me in the morning light, watching my cock go in and out of you with those stunning breasts of yours bouncing, takes my breath away. You’re gorgeous, Mrs. Calloway.” I cannot speak. I am caught up in his spell. My hips continuously circle, grinding in quick, controlled movements.
The closer I get to orgasm, the more my momentum picks up. Turner knows my body so well. He thrusts harder into me, groping both of my breasts in his hands, tweaking my hard nipples as he slams up into me.
“Come for me. I’m so close.”
When he speaks to me with his voice so low, his eyes so dark, his love for me building with every touch, every drive, I come and I shout his name at the same time he bellows mine and empties himself inside of me.
I wake, disoriented and unbelievably hotter than when I fell asleep. It was a dream; a dream that was once real. That morning is one of my fondest memories of my husband and me, one of the only days we have ever skipped work.
Turner planned it all out weeks ahead of time. He shut the office down completely just to spend the entire day lying with me in the tall grass and skinny-dipping in the lake. He made love to me two more times, once on the water’s edge, and another time with me on my hands and knees on the small beach.
I don’t know if Trent saying that Turner was alive brought this sudden memory front and center, or if it’s the fact I am alone and scared for the first time since I gave birth to my daughter. All I know is, I miss my husband, the man I loved unequivocally.
My mother has robbed my daughter and me of a future with Turner. It’s been over a year since he has been gone and I have never grieved for him. I don’t want to be here alone anymore, in this small space where I can hear his laughter, see his handsome face. No one will ever fill the void I have been left with.
“I’m so sorry, Turner. God, I am so sorry.”
I cry, bang on the lid of the trunk, kick, and scream until my voice is hoarse and my fists hurt from the constant beating I am giving them.
“Why?”
I have been curled up on my side for what I know has been hours. My bladder is about ready to fucking burst. My breasts hurt so damn bad from the buildup of milk inside of them.
My tears have all dried. I lie there for several minutes and when we start to slow, my eyes go wide, all the pain forgotten. I stay quiet as we come to a stop, waiting for any sign or sound of someone approaching. After an eternity, I hear a car door slam, then another one open and shut. Then, the crunching of gravel.
It’s when I hear Journey crying loudly that I begin to panic.
“Let me the fuck out of here!” My mom hits the trunk.
“Shut the hell up.”
I hear the jingle of her keys. The trunk lifts. It’s dark out.
“Shut this crying brat up.”
I haul my aching body up out of the trunk, but I don’t say a word; not wanting to, until I have my daughter securely in my arms.
“I see you managed to get yourself untied. I’ll give you credit, you’re a smart one, quite determined, too. It’s too bad I’m the one holding the gun.”
Her smart-ass comment deserves no response from me. I want my daughter safe in my arms and this time, damn it, this bitch is going to have to kill me if she thinks she will get her back from me.
“Give her to me now.”
I extend my arms out to take her, my heart hammering, my body aching and very much needing to bond with my baby in the way no one else can. The minute she is in the comfort of my arms, she stops crying, her tiny little body sweaty and clammy.
While the woman who I am sure is the spawn of the devil himself watches with rapt attention, I adjust my clothes and Journey immediately latches onto my breast. Once she is eating comfortably, I turn my attention to my mother.
“You listen to me you fucked up, crazy bitch. You can beat me, sell me, or feed me to the goddamn wolves, but if you ever take my daughter from me and drive for fucking hours again, I swear I will kill you.”
Her eyes flicker and a hint of terror passes across her features but is quickly replaced by fury. Sliding her hand into the back of her perfectly pressed skirt, she pulls out her gun, letting it dangle at her side.
“It’s dark out, so you can ride in the back with her. I’m warning you, though. Don’t try anything.” She lifts her wrist to check her watch. “We have about four more hours until we reach our destination.”
Alarm takes hold of me and I pull Journey closer to my chest.
“Where are we going?”
“Well,” she says calmly. “Since Trent decided to go against me and forced me to kill him...”
“Wait. What do you mean, he went against you?”
With one hand she reaches up to firmly grab my chin.
“He threatened me just like you did. You see, he thought he had me fooled. I’ve known all along he has never gotten over you, planning and plotting in his own mind how to get you and leave. It’s sad really, because for some silly reason I cared about Trent. I wasn’t going to allow that to happen. I want you dead. Now that you know the truth and my plans have been screwed up once again because of you, you’re about to make a much needed phone call for me. Now get in the back seat and finish up with whatever it is you have to do with her.”
Securing the baby with one hand, I hold my other hand up to stop her.
“What do you mean, I know the truth?”
“That Turner is alive, of course.”