Chapter Twenty-Two
Clove
After six hours of uninterrupted sleep, then feeding and changing the baby, we made love two more times. I feel like we’re a real family. I hate the idea of being trapped inside. I would give anything to take Journey outside for a walk, let her feel the warmth from the sunshine, see the birds. Anything to let her see there is more to life than being confined within the walls of a house. In her short life, that is all she has known.
“It’s noon and we are still in bed. Don’t you think we should get up?” I ask Turner.
“Nah, I’m not wanting to get up. We may as well enjoy the peace and quiet before Journey is running around the house, climbing in bed with us and all that other stuff little kids do. Besides, I haven’t quite had enough of you yet.”
His deep, husky voice screams his desire for me again, not to mention his rock hard cock pressing into my back. A yearning to taste him has me flipping over and pushing him onto his back, his brows lifting as if to challenge me.
“We’ve barely gotten started,” I say seductively.
I bend forward and bite his bottom lip, sucking it into my mouth.
“I think I want to begin here... and then here,” I say, kissing his chin. I place one on his throat next. “Here.”
I move back up to his ear, biting and nibbling as he verbally coaxes me to continue.
“Fuck me,” he says.
“My mouth is about ready to,” I grin and move farther south.
The same overwhelming need to touch and kiss him everywhere rushes through me just as I imagine it did to him last night. I know he’s real, he’s here, and he will always be mine.
After being ripped apart and cheated out of an entire year of our lives together, it now feels like we will never get enough. Our hearts, minds, and bodies are combining with a driving force to make up for all that time lost, to just feel again and get lost in each other.
My fingers skim down his chest, my fingernails digging in slightly. I feel the urge to push him until he can’t take it anymore. I want him to fuck my mouth right back like he used to, harder and faster until my mouth is overflowing with the taste of him.
Turner removes his balled up fists from his sides and grabs my hair, pulling it back from my face.
“I want to watch you take me into your mouth,” he says insistently, pressing his hips into my breasts. I begin to rub his cock in between them, up and down for several strokes.
“You keep doing that, I am going to flip you over and fuck your tits,” he growls.
I smirk, knowing how turned on he is.
“Later. Right now, this is mine,” I say as I grip his cock firmly in my hands.
His head falls back, his eyes closing. He inhales and then exhales, then opens them back up and they are on me. My head lowers and I fist him up and down hard at first, coming to an abrupt stop the minute I lick up the outside of his shaft.
“Aw, hell, baby. Do that again,”
And I do, three more times. Then I gently grab his balls, squeezing them just enough to make him jerk while my hand moves down to the bottom of his shaft. I begin to stroke, taking one of his balls into my mouth and gently sucking, causing his cock to stir in my hands.
“Fucking hell!” he shouts.
I do the same to the other one, then replace my hand with my tongue, licking upwards until I reach his opening. I dip the tip of my tongue inside, the sounds coming out of his mouth turning me on as he begs me to continue. I swirl my tongue, licking in slow circles all the way down and back up again.
His hips buck upward when I pull him into my mouth, sucking the enlarged head, his hands tugging harder on my hair. The pleasure I am giving him consumes me as I pull more of him into my mouth, sucking and rolling my tongue as I bob up and down for several minutes. I place both hands around him when I get back up to the top and dip into his tip once more, my hands twisting and turning in opposite directions as well as pumping.
I have never heard Turner swear as much as he is right now, nor seen the fire in his eyes as I take him back in all the way. I pump and suck repeatedly as we watch each other, and when he comes and his familiar scent and taste fills my mouth, I swallow it all.
My core aches for him, but this isn’t about me right now, this is all about him.
“Good God,” he says hoarsely. “Now I really don’t want to get out of this bed. That was the hottest thing I have ever seen.”
I smile mischievously. Just when I am crawling up his sinfully sexy body, a loud wail erupts from the baby monitor.
“Perfect timing,” says Turner.
“For you, anyway.” I reply.
“You go shower first. I’ll get her,” he offers, placing a kiss to my forehead.
I climb off of him knowing his eyes are glued to me as I retreat out of his sight. And as I turn the water on and step in the shower, memories of last night and this morning make me the happiest I have been in a long time. My entire body is sore in such a good way. I’m home, alive, and with my family.
I close my eyes, leaning my head back. As the water drips down, a flash of Trent standing in the shower at our old home flickers through my mind.
I should hate the fact he is invading my thoughts, but for some strange reason, I don’t. I need to talk to someone about how I feel about him, someone who won’t judge me or be automatically biased against him. Turner tenses up whenever his name is brought up. My brother and dad would rather kill Trent than to even begin to understand. I couldn’t expect Krista to keep the things I tell her from Zack, and Melody has got to be going through her own type of hell with Trent being her son.
I sigh and wash my body and hair. I really do need to get this cut. It is way too long and as thick as it is, it takes forever to dry. I won’t have time to deal with it once all of this is done and Turner and I can get back to work.
Thinking about work makes me wonder how Turner came up with the money to buy this house. I know he said it’s in Melody’s name. Did she pay for it all? Pay for everything? What happened to our business, our office, our employees?
I shut off the water and open the door to the steam-filled bathroom. I towel off, apply my lotion, and pull my hair back into a ponytail. I smile as I walk back into the bedroom and see the sheets half off the bed in a crumpled up mess. I forgo even making it, I like the idea of seeing it and recalling how the two of us kissed forever this morning, rolling back and forth across the big bed, hands groping, touching each other any and everywhere we could.
Turner walks in with a happy little Journey all freshly changed in a cute little pink sundress as I am pulling my old favorite sundress over my head.
“Hey, Zack’s on his way over,” he tells me.
“Did he say what he wanted?”
“He did. I tried calling my mother to have her come over and keep an eye on the baby, but I couldn’t get hold of her. I called your dad instead and he’s on his way.”
How strange that he couldn’t get hold of Melody. She always has her phone with her. I would think with everything that is going on, she would be quick to answer. I thought she was joking, but maybe her feelings really were hurt when Turner told her last night that he and I needed some time alone. I see the troubled look on his face and shake my head at him.
“Don’t worry about your mom. Maybe she’s shopping, or off telling her friends about her new grandchild. She’s fine. Did you leave her a message?” I ask as I slip my old black leather flip-flops onto my feet. I almost moan at the feel of them. They’re my favorite pair ever.
“I did. It’s just not like her, is all.”
“No, it’s not, but she’ll call back when she can, I know she will. So what is going on?”
My stomach drops when I suddenly comprehend why they are coming over.
Oh, hell. They’re coming to take my statement, aren’t they? I am going to have to tell them everything. How am I going to be able to do that with Turner sitting by my side? They’re going to make me start from the very beginning. For the first time since I have been back home, fear creeps back into me worse than it ever has, because my husband is going to have to hear from my mouth that I slept with another man.
************
“You can come get me at any time if she needs to be fed, or changed, or cries. I’ll just be…”
“Clove, stop,” says my dad. He has just arrived and is in Journey’s nursery sitting in the chair with her in his arms. “I raised two children on my own. I can handle this. Now tell me what’s really bothering you and why you are in here stalling when you need to be out there?”
I roll my eyes at his perceptiveness.
“I’m not stalling.”
“Yes, you are. You’re nervous and frightened and I want you to tell me why.”
“I… I’m afraid of telling them things I don’t want Turner to hear. It will kill him, Dad.”
He clears his throat tensely.
“Look, I have never lied to you and I’m not going to start now. If you don’t think he knows what happened between the two of you then you are sadly mistaken. He does. We all do. Is it going to be easy for him to hear it? No, it’s not. Turner loves you. Everything you did, you did out of love to try and find him. No one faults you for that but yourself. You are the strongest woman I know. You’re a fighter. Don’t give up on yourself or him. The two of you will get through this, I promise you will.”
My heart sinks with every word coming out of his mouth. Last night and this morning, reconnecting with Turner meant everything to the both of us. We’ve taken giant steps in these past few days. I don’t know what I will do if we take those steps back.
I leave the two of them, trekking slowly down the hallway to the sound of several deep voices all sitting in the living room. A recorder is positioned in front of the vacant spot on the couch, which happens to be right in between Turner and Zack.
“You ready?” Turner asks as he moves aside for me to sit.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say with a strained smile.
The questions begin one by one.
‘When did you first realize he wasn’t your husband?’
‘How did he act at the office?’
‘Did he seem to know his daily routine?’
They continue on and I relax a little. Turner keeps holding my hand, squeezing when he feels me tense up. Things seem to be going well until they ask me what happened when I came home the day I was kidnapped.
“He attacked me the minute I stepped through the door,” I tell them.
“What do you mean attacked you? Can you be more specific, Mrs. Calloway?” The lead investigator asks.
“He beat me.”
“What the fuck?” exclaims Zack, his head snapping in my direction.
“Jesus Christ, Clove,” Turner says from my other side. My head swings back to him.
The FBI agent stands up from his chair.
“Do you need a moment?”
“No, thank you. I would rather get this over with, if you don’t mind.”
I can practically see the steam rolling out of my brother’s ears and Turner’s whole body is so tense I feel he will snap at any minute.
“He pulled a gun on me and made me get into my car. He hid in the backseat and made me drive. We changed vehicles at a gas station and he drove us out of town. He said he was taking me to where my husband was.”
I chew on the side of my mouth. No one knows about the next part I am about to tell them. I pause and put my head down, ashamed and humiliated as he asks me to continue.
“Trent turned into a totally different person on that trip. I didn’t know we were headed to Mississippi at first. I was angry, constantly asking questions. I wanted to know if my husband was all right. Trent kept telling me he needed something from me. He… he said Turner refused to sign his name so they could get the twenty million dollars of his inheritance, and they wanted me to convince him he had to.”
I pause and take a sip of water. I place my hand on my brother’s leg for support and grip Turner’s hand tightly.
“He then started telling me he loved me, and that we could take the money and run away together. I told him no, I would never leave my husband for him. I loved Turner, not him. He didn’t want to hear that. The next thing I knew, he pulled over in a vacant parking area and...”
I look over to my brother, tears in my eyes. I can’t look at Turner, not for this. I need Zack. I need his eyes to tell me I am strong enough to say this. He nods, giving me the strength and support I need, but I don’t look away. I can’t.
“He raped me.”
Zack immediately springs up from the couch, pacing back and forth. He stops and glares at every single one of the agents.
“And that’s the kind of man you all are willing to plea bargain with? This is bullshit. When he confessed, he never mentioned he… fuck! I can’t even say it.”
“Look, Zack. We agreed to let you be here for support only for your sister. Don’t step out of line and make us regret it. Now sit your ass back down.”
While all of this is happening in front of me, I glance at Turner out of the corner of my eye. His face is pale, his stature stoic, jaw clenched. The worst pain I have ever seen is etched across his face.
“Fuck that shit!” Zack moves fast, standing face to face with the agent. “Did you just hear what my sister said he did to her? I don’t give a shit if that animal is dying! In fact, I wish he would have died. No, death is too good for him. That’s my sister!”
“Will you calm down? I know she’s your sister. You know how this works, detective. I am telling you one last time, sit your ass down and let me do my goddamn job!”
“Zack, please,” I beg. “Let me get this over with. I… I need you. Please.”
I begin to cry. I can’t seem to stop. I feel a strong arm come around my shoulder, pulling me in tight to his chest. Consoling, sweet words of assurance are spoken into my ear. It’s not the person I was hoping for. I didn’t even notice he had gotten up. However, these arms I am familiar with. They are arms that have held me tight many times. My dad.
I cry until I feel like I have nothing left. Defeated, deflated, and so full of guilt and shame.
“Does she have to finish today? I think my daughter has had enough,” my dad says while keeping me tucked tightly to his side.
“That’s up to her. Would you like to stop, Mrs. Calloway?”
“No. I want to get this over with,” I sniff.
Dad hands me a box of Kleenex. I try to pull myself together. Zack doesn’t sit down, though. He stands in the corner, eyes fixed on a spot on the wall.
The hard part is over and I carry on with the rest of the story, telling them as much as I can remember. When they are all packed up and gone, I turn to my dad, who still has his arms around me, afraid to let me go.
“Where’s Turner?”
“He’s with Journey.”
“Oh.”
Sitting up straight, I look over to my brother, who is now sitting in a chair. Silence fills the room.
“Sweetheart, I think it’s time you call Dr. Jollup.”