All In: Betting on a Full House (Gambling With Love) (23 page)

I slid my arm around her, and when she settled against me I pulled up the recliner for us to stretch out.

"Good night, Ty. I love you."

"I love you too, baby. So damn much. I thought I'd lost you … God, I'm so glad you're okay."

Tyler

I paced the small square room until the heavy door finally slid open. Two security guards brought him in wearing ankle and wrist shackles, and the red, solitary confinement jumpsuit.

"What the fuck do you want?" Mike Dodson asked when he spotted me. The guards quietly walked out and closed the door.

"I wanted to talk to you, because it might be the last chance you get to speak."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, you haven't heard? You're cleared to go into the general population cells."

"No!" he yelled.

"Yes. And I'm pretty sure all the inmates have been watching the news and reading the paper this morning. Have you seen it? Your mug shot made the front page."

"Fuck you," he spat. "So how's the whore and my faggot son?" I flinched at the derogatory terms used to describe two of the people I loved more than anything.

"Like you care about them."

"Never have, never will," he said with a shrug. I looked disbelievingly at his scowl, covered by dirty facial hair, and then up into his uncaring eyes.

"How is that possible?" I asked. "I've only had my daughters for one day and I love them so much I'd kill for them. I'd do anything for them."

"Sorry, I tried to get rid of them for you. You're going to wish I had."

"No, I won't. The only thing I wish is that you weren't breathing. But I might get that wish soon."

"I'd rather die than sit in this shithole for years, so you're doing me a favor."

"It's not for you, it's for my family. Enjoy hell. It's about time you got a chance to visit, after putting your own two kids through it for most of their lives."

"Fuck you," he said again.

"Before the night is over someone might be fucking you. Who'll be the faggot then?" I smiled and left the room satisfied when fear froze his cold expression.

…

Jess

"Hey baby, how are they?" Tyler asked when he walked into the NICU room. He’d gone home to take a shower, but he’d been gone awhile. I was pretty sure he was up to something that he didn’t want to tell me about.

"Good. Ella has been nursing, but Bree hasn't quite figured it out yet," I told him with a smile looking at our amazing little daughters.

"Hey my beautiful girls," he told them rubbing their blanket covered bodies.

"Have you seen the newspaper?" I asked him.

"Yeah, I have," he sighed.

"It's a great picture. Lauren said she was sorry. She posted it on Facebook and it spread like crazy."

I wish I could've been with him the first time he held our daughters, but at least there was a picture. Another one to add to the collection of the most important moments of our life. The photo of Tyler sitting in his police uniform, holding our two preemie twins with tears running down his cheeks had gone viral, just like our engagement and wedding pictures had.

"Yeah. I'm sorry everyone now knows about your dad's charges, too."

"It's okay. I knew it was possible that it'd come out when I turned him in. Hey, look who it is girls, your uncle Jonathan," I told them, when I saw a nurse pushing Jonathan’s wheelchair toward us. "How are you feeling, Jon?"     

"In a little pain but I’m good. How about you and my nieces?"

"Everyone's good here. You want to hold one, or both?" I asked.

"Sure, but just one at a time. I don't know if I can handle both," he said with a smile. I handed Tyler Ella to put in Jonathan's arms. Keeping their names straight wasn't as hard as I thought it'd be.

"Oh wow, she's so little, but really cute, isn't she?" he said in wonder.

"Yeah, they are so tiny and incredible. I can't believe they're here with us already," I replied. "Has the doctor told you when you might get to go home?"

"Tomorrow hopefully," Jon answered.

"Good. You've got to get well before your birthday and driver's license exam next week. Oh crap, you missed your date! I'm so sorry Jon."

"Jon's got a date? Who? When? Why didn't I know about this?" Tyler asked with a smile, and Jon blushed.

"Yeah, Abigail called my room this morning. She's going to come by and visit later tonight."

"Aw, that's so sweet. I can't wait to meet her."

"Go easy, sis," he laughed.

Tyler's cell phone started ringing. He pulled it out and read the screen before answering, walking away out of earshot from us while he talked to whoever it was before coming back.

"So, that was my Sergeant,” Tyler started. “Your dad was just found dead in his cell. They think he had a heart attack."

"Wow, that's surprising," Jon said, not sounding the least bit surprised as he continued to look down at our daughter. "I didn’t know he had a heart."

"Yeah, me either," I agreed, looking up at Tyler. I knew, but was strangely unaffected by the truth of what had probably actually happened to our father. All I felt was relief. Relief that our family was now safe, and we could finally let go of the nightmares of our past.

The present and future looked better and brighter than anything I had ever hoped for or imagined. I had everything I'd always wanted, and never thought I was meant to have. In this moment I realized I’d been given my very own happily ever after.

"So, boys," I told them. "It looks like the five of us are going to need a minivan and a bigger place to live sooner than expected."

“Oh no, Ty. Now the women have got us outnumbered,” my brother joked with a smile.

“That’s fine by me,” Tyler responded with his own grin before leaning down to give me a kiss. "Three of a kind and a pair is going to make it a helluva full house, but it's one that I can't wait to share with you."

The End

ADDITIONAL BOOKS IN THE ALL IN SERIES

All In: Double or Nothing
is currently available at
Amazon
.

Look for the third book in the All In series,
All In: Calling His Bluff
in February 2015, with many more to follow!

ALSO AVAILABLE FROM LANE HART

Blood Drive
- is a fun and sexy paranormal romance about a lazy vampire who falls for a beautiful girl, and the asshole who will lie, deceive and betray his only friend to come between the two of them.

CLICK HERE TO BUY NOW OR KEEP READING FOR A FREE SAMPLE

BLOOD DRIVE

I pulled the pillow tighter over my head. I was trying ineffectively to block out the sun shining through my bedroom window, and the alarm clock screeching out a horrible pop song. I don't know why I leave it on this shitty radio station, except for it beats waking up to
beep-beep-beep
.

I blindly reached over to the nightstand and slapped my hand around until I found and hit the snooze button, giving myself ten more minutes. Work begins for me at the ungodly hour of eight a.m., and since there were bills to pay and video games to buy, the next time my alarm went off, I'd make myself get up.

I felt the dip in the foot of my mattress an instant before I heard his annoying voice.

 "Get up jackass. I'm hungry, and you're going to be late for work."

I grabbed the pillow and swatted at the fat-ass orange and white tiger-striped cat to knock him off my bed.

 "Get the fuck out of my room!" I yelled at him. I have got to remember to lock my damn door!

 "I bet a slash across your face will get you moving,” he threatened.

 "I'll feed you in ten minutes if you'll leave me the hell alone! But I swear, if you scratch me with your filthy shit covered claws, I’ll snap you in half!”

 "That reminds me, you need to change my cat litter too, asshole," he said as he finally gave up and sulked away.

 "You're really a man, use the fucking toilet!" I screamed after him.

 "I’ve tried, but my claws slip and I fall in. Then I have to spend the whole damn day licking piss water off myself," he whined.

 Chris had been annoying the shit out of me for years, but he was one of the few friends I had. Five years ago he'd been on the run and turned himself into a cat. He'd been one ever since because the idiot didn't stir the counter-spell before transforming. It wasn't the cat part of him that bothered me, it was his non-stop mouth. Why the stupid spell left him with the ability to talk was just my luck.

 I really should give the guy some slack though. There didn't seem to be an end in sight for his feline days. He'd showed me how to do the spell reversal, and we’d tried it at least a dozen times, but using his kitty blood was always a no-go. Dumb ass.

 When the alarm went off again I finally rolled out of the warm cozy bed and headed to the bathroom. I did remember to lock the bathroom door before I found my way to the toilet. My eyes were still closed as I took a piss then turned on the shower and got undressed.

 As soon as the steaming water in the shower hit me I finally started to wake up. I washed my face then scrubbed my head with shampoo, feeling more and more like myself. Then I really woke up as my washcloth grazed my morning wood.

 Finishing that task only reminded me of my lack of a love life, but it's hard to form lasting relationships with women when you're a disgusting leech. 

 I grabbed the plush green towel from the rack beside the shower and ran it over my body before using it to dry my dark blonde hair. Damn, I was in desperate need of a haircut, but I just didn’t give a shit. I could use a shave too, but didn't feel like wasting the time on it.

 I brushed my perfectly straight white teeth, pulled on the clinic's white logo polo, a pair of jeans and my grey New Balances, then I was out the door.

Shit! My foot was hovering on the first step of the porch when I remembered I didn't feed Chris. I reluctantly turned back around and unlocked the front door, heading to the kitchen. He could just rip open the bag of food with his claws if he got hungry enough, but then I'd be the one who'd have to eventually clean up the mess.

"Hey, Chris," I yelled. "Do you want bologna or cat food today?"

A second later he came bouncing all nimbly-pimbly into the kitchen from his bedroom, directly across from mine. "Bologna! And make it two slices," he answered.

Since he’d been a cat, his food preferences had tended to be that of a regular feline, which was fine with me. Bologna and cat food were cheap, and saved me a shitload of money at the grocery store.

"Fine. Here," I said as I threw the slices on a plate and sat it down on the floor. I hated when he ate on the counter, getting his little white and orange hairs all over everything.

"Thanks man. See ya' after work," he told me.

I turned on the TV in the living room for the poor bastard, then went back out the front door again, this time actually making it to and sitting down in my blue trash filled Mazda 3 Sport.   

Looking at the clock on the dash I had a good five minutes to spare, so I made a detour for a caffeine and sugar rush.  Luckily the drive thru lane at Donut World was short, and with four coffees and a dozen doughnuts for myself and my equally grouchy coworkers, I headed to the clinic. It would be my Happy Fucking Friday gift to them.

On blood drive days I'm supposed to check in at our headquarters downtown by eight a.m. to get everything packed up before we hit the road. I work at the local blood bank, but usually once a week we take our enormous blood mobile out around the community.

It was a little over eight years ago that I had the brilliant idea to go to school and get my certification in phlebotomy. Even as a vampire, I was one lazy son of a bitch. Having to go out and find my own blood sources was too stressful and tedious, especially when giving in to one lust usually led to the other.

Why go through all that trouble of finding someone to bite when I could just work at the place that always had a supply? It's like they were paying me to survive. I don't call taking a bag of blood here or there "stealing" per say. I know humans need the blood donated for accidents and surgeries and all that other blah, blah, blah. But what I do is a freaking public service. Besides, I try to only drink the bad shit.

Since I've been consuming blood for over fifty-eight years I can smell and taste the difference between healthy, sick, and really sick donor blood.  Over the years, each and every time I've sniffed or slurped one of the closet deathbed cases, I've been a damn fine Samaritan. I get their phone number from their records, call them right up and tell them that our "laboratory tests" suggest they have an illness, and they should contact their doctor immediately. I've lost count of the number of lives I've possibly saved. Of course our tests will show when someone has HIV and a few other diseases, and the donor might get notified weeks or months after they donate. My way is much quicker.

I pulled into my parking spot in front of the rundown brick building almost ten minutes late, and noticed all three of my coworkers were already there. They overlooked my lateness however, when I walked in the door and they saw what was in my hands. All three ladies converged on me with a, "Thanks, Sam," to grab up breakfast and devour it at their desks so we could hit the road.

Doris was the oldest and shrewdest of my three female coworkers, and technically my boss. In her fifties with salt and pepper hair, spare tire around her midsection, and permanent frown, she scared the shit out of me until I realized she wasn't as mean as she looked.

Then there was Anna. She was in her mid-thirties and a single mom with two small brats. She'd given up on appearances and rocked her ponytail every day without the care or hope of ever finding a man. She’d only been here at the clinic a few years longer than I had, and she pretty much kept to herself, just trying to get through the daily exhaustion that was her life.  

Finally there was Betsy, the anti-Doris.  Always happy and pleasant to the point of annoyance, she was just out of college and still acted childish. She showed up to work today, just like every day, as if we were having a damn beauty pageant. Her face was caked with bright colors making her look like a clown, and her bad blonde dye job was sticking out and smelled like it held a can of hairspray. I knew Betsy had a thing for me but she was so not my type, and I didn't just mean her blood.

I wasted no time putting down my two doughnuts and coffee. Hell yes I still had to eat and drink regular food, even though I happen to be a bloodsucker. Then, since I was the only male in the building, it was time for me to start loading up all the heavy boxes and equipment onto the bus.

All three of the women were the stereotypical horrible drivers, so I took over the blood mobile’s huge steering wheel, and we made our way through honking rush hour traffic to one of the local colleges. I was all too familiar with the perfectly landscaped and picturesque campus of Madison University. 

As every guy in this town knew, Madison had an overwhelming majority of rich bitches attending, most of them all caught up in their artsy-fartsy majors. Twice a year the sorority girls took a timeout from their partying and hazing to hold blood drives. It gave them the chance to put out signs and get on the local news, bolstering their "community service" image.

On a good day the school could usually get about fifty of the four thousand students to donate. Forty-five of those donated to get out of class for the entire day, and the other five gave just because they were decent human beings.

By nine-thirty we already had two takers, or givers as the case may be. The first went to sourpuss Doris, and the second to scatterbrained Anna. Since Betsy was still learning the ropes and mostly doing the administrative paper shuffle, it meant I was up next.

I was still arranging my supplies in the tiny cramped work area on the back of the bus when I heard Betsy tell our next contestant to come on down. I turned around with my professional smile to greet my first donor, then instantly frowned and let out a sigh. Of all the people that could walk through my blood mobile, it was just my luck that I would get stuck with her.