Redeemed (The Dark Redemption Series Book 2) (14 page)

Aden

My hand moves faster and faster down the length of my cock, while the other plays with my balls until I come in my hand.

How pathetic, right? Jerking off to my brother and his girlfriend fucking like rabbits on the other side of the hotel. Very loud, horny rabbits.

The fact is, I know I’ll never have anything close to what they have. Intimacy is a joke to me, nothing more than the taking of someone’s virginity before I slink away, never to be seen or heard from again.

I wonder if the virgins all regret it afterward. Probably the men more than the women. Is it fucked up that I want them to? I want them to constantly think about the one night I took what they can only give once.

After those dark thoughts, maybe it’s time for a call to Dr. Allen.

Grabbing some tissues, I clean up my mess and tuck my dick back into my pants before pulling out my phone.

“Aden? How are you doing?” the doctor answers.

“Um, well, so I told you about my brother, right? And Blair, the girl whose virginity I took?”

“Yes.”

“They’re together now.”

“Oh. And how do you feel about that?”

“I don’t really know.”

“Are you angry?” he asks.

“No, not really. It’s more like I wish I were him.”

“So you’re envious?”

“I guess so.”

“That seems pretty reasonable. I’m assuming they have a fairly normal, healthy relationship?”

“Pretty much.”

“You’re capable of that too, Aden. You may not think you are, but you haven’t tried.”

“That’s never gonna happen for me,” I argue. “I’m too fucked up.”

“You’re not ‘fucked up’. Your past was traumatic, but we can continue to work through those issues if you’ll make the effort.” 

“Doubtful,” I mutter.

“I wish you could see how you self-sabotage potential relationships in a preemptive attempt to push people away before they have a chance to try to get close.”

Is that what I do? Hurt them before they hurt me? That’s pretty much what I did to Blair, and what I usually do to the virgins, take what I want and leave them before they can ask for something from me in return. I gave enough of myself for those four shitty years. Not that I offered myself up voluntarily back then. A little at a time, pieces of me were taken unwillingly, and now I don’t think I have anything left to give. My mind isn’t the only thing broken. It’s my soul that’s incapable of being healed.  

“Listen, why don’t we schedule some hourly appointments?” the doctor asks. “You haven’t been in to see me in almost three months.”

“I’m not in town. I’m in Kentucky.”

“Do you plan on staying there long? Because I would be happy to give you a referral to see one of my colleagues there.”

“Maybe,” I answer, although I have no intention of meeting a stranger and unburdening my baggage on them.

“In the meantime, why don’t you try and learn from your brother’s relationship? I bet that theirs is not as perfect as you think it is. They probably have their own challenges that they struggle to work through. See how that relationship grows into something you might want to have, and we’ll make a plan on how to obtain it.”

“Thanks, doc,” I tell him before ending the call.

The truth is that I’m happy for Brede and Blair. While at first I thought he was an asshole who was gonna hurt her, physically and emotionally, I ended up hurting her more. Like the doctor said, that’s what I do, sabotage from the beginning so that there’s nothing to go back to. Why bother?

When I was twelve, I lost my family, my father, and twin brother, who I was closer to than anyone else in the world.

Then, for four years, I grew close to my foster sister and brother. But as soon as my foster parents were arrested, Tyson and Faith went their separate ways, putting distance between the three of us; and I know exactly why. Just like me, they didn’t want the reminder of our past, and that’s all we were to each other once we escaped that hellhole --- a reminder of the shame and humiliation we endured.

Since then, I haven’t had anyone but my dad, who is behind bars. That is, until my path crossed with Blair and Brede’s. Plotting and planning on how to get my dad out of prison, I waited for what seemed like forever for the chance to have unfettered access to the DA’s house. And when I finally got it, how ironic to find not only the perfect witness for his case but my brother too. Following him around for the first few months after he was discharged from the army, I thought the worst of him, knowing he was leaving a trail of death. If Blair’s right, I should’ve done more research on his victims. Then maybe I would have understood him better.

And now, why do I wish he
was
as horrible as I initially thought?

Maybe because thinking of him as a monster made me feel a little better about being one. Like maybe we had no choice but to turn out fucked up. So if he’s not, that means I’m all alone in a world that doesn’t make sense.

Blair

The night of the memorial service was the last night Brede, Aden and I stayed at the hotel. The next morning, Brede installed an alarm system, camera, and reinforced all the doors and windows at Paula and Jim’s before we moved in. Aden warned Brede it was risky, and that none of those things would stop the police from arresting him, but Brede said he was tired of running.

The first thing I did was clean the house, removing all traces of their tragic death while Brede went grocery shopping, in disguise, of course. When he got back, Brede pretended he was okay, but I know he was still grieving and unnecessarily blaming himself. He wanted everything in the house kept exactly in the same place, so Aden and I abided by his wishes.

For the first few nights, all three of us slept together in the living room because Aden and I knew Brede wasn’t ready to sleep in beds. That would make us more than guests, which would mean his parents weren’t coming back.

By mid-week, I was ready to suggest that we see about renting another hotel room nearby until we leave for North Carolina when Brede finally gave an inch.

“Tomorrow you want to, um, go shopping? Maybe find some new bedding and decorations or whatever for their room?” he asks as we sit in one of the recliner’s watching late night television. I’m curled up to his side, hugging his chest. Aden’s still awake on the sofa, and I’m not sure when he last slept or had something to eat. His behavior is even more erratic now than before, but mostly he’s been quiet, withdrawing into himself.

“Yeah, shopping would be fun,” I answer, placing a kiss on Brede’s cheek. Turning his head, his lips capture mine and ignite a frenzy inside me. Apparently, the same goes for Brede when his palm suddenly grabs my ass and yanks me up his body so I can feel his hard cock against my stomach.

Ah, so that’s why he’s finally giving in to sleeping in a bed. He’s horny.

While two weeks ago he would’ve fucked me right here in front of Aden, I know that’s not gonna happen. He meant what he said about no more sharing, not even letting him watch us together.

Aden doesn’t seem to care either way and has been eerily silent, lost in his own head lately. Sure, he occasionally jokes with us, but something’s been off with him. Brede’s been drowning in mourning, so I’m not even sure if he’s noticed his brother’s silence. Maybe we’ll have a chance to talk tomorrow when we go out.

…

Brede

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Blair asks as we stroll through
Macy’s
hand in hand, almost like a regular couple. People stop and stare at us, maybe because she looks so young, but probably because they want to know what an asshole like me is doing with this beautiful woman. My baseball cap is pulled down to hide most of my face. The media hasn’t mentioned my name much lately, but that doesn’t mean the police have forgotten me.

“I’m sure I’m okay,” I answer Blair. “Now pick out something you like. Bright and happy colors or whatever the fuck.”

“You’re so romantic,” she teases with a grin before leading me to the bedding section of the store.

It doesn’t take her long to find a bed displaying a comforter set she likes. It’s a big, fluffy, white number with large blue and purple flowers printed on it. There’s even a decorative pillow with a butterfly or dragonfly on it.

“Too girly?” she asks.

“Baby, it’s okay. You’re a girl, you know.”

“If you don’t like it, we can keep looking…” she says as her mood-ring green eyes flit around the room.

The last bedroom she had was when she was eight. I can’t imagine what her room at the mental hospital was like, probably boring and sterile, so I want to buy her whatever makes her happy. It’s gonna be strange sleeping in my parents’ bedroom, but it’s either there or get another bed for my old room since it only has bunks.

Despite how much I want for my parents to come home, to walk through the front door like all the times before, I need to face the fact that that shit ain’t gonna happen. They’re gone, and the only comfort I have is knowing they left this world together. It would have been horrible for Paula to have passed away years before Jim because he would have missed her so much. Which makes me think of my dad rotting away in prison after losing Blair’s mom way too soon. I’ve only known Blair for a few weeks, and I can’t imagine my life without her.

“I dunno, baby. Let’s try it out first,” I hedge, just before I grab Blair and toss her onto the mattress, making her squeak when she bounces. I follow her down, climbing on top of her, and kissing her lips before she can protest. Her legs automatically spread, welcoming me between them, even though we’re in public.

God, I need her tonight. 

It’s been too long since we’ve been sleeping in those uncomfortable recliners in the living room. Tonight, we’ll finally remedy that.

Fuck that, I’m ready to take her to bed now.

“I like it,” I say against her lips before I reluctantly roll over and stretch out next to her, flat on my back before I fuck her in the middle of this store. Tilting her head, Blair looks over at me through lust-hazed, midnight blue eyes, her cheeks pink with arousal, her butterscotch hair fanned out around her like a halo. She’s so fucking gorgeous it hurts, and she’s mine.

We may have had a bumpy ride, but we made it here, to an almost normal life. There’s still a trip to North Carolina we have to eventually make, and the police I somehow have to figure out how to get off my ass. But I know that despite whatever obstacles come, I’ll try to give Blair everything she could ever want or need. And without a doubt, I’ll worship and protect her until I take my last breath.

“I love you,” I tell her, the words rolling freely off my tongue even though it’s the first time I’ve ever said them to a woman.

“I love you, too,” she replies just as easily before brushing her lips over mine. “Take me home,” she says.

“Yes, ma’am,” I agree, jumping up and pulling her to her feet.

Once we find the king size comforter set like the one we rolled around with, I insist she pick out some dresses since I have plenty of things to wear at the house. When we pay, I make sure to use the cash I pulled out of my parents’ account, the blood money from her dad, or from the woman who wanted her and him both dead.

While I want to think we’re safe and in the clear, I’m not stupid, and I don’t think that Nadia bitch is either. When she figures out the hitman is dead, she’ll send someone else after us. So for now, we’ll lay low, use cash, and try to avoid going out in public too much until we’re ready to take a road trip.

Aden

I wake up in a strange bed, one so small my feet are dangling off the foot of it. Then I hear it…the sounds of people fucking.

For a few frightening seconds, I think I’m back in that house, trapped without a chance in hell of escaping.

But then I remember I’m at Brede’s parents’ house with him and Blair.

They love each other; I’ve heard them say so.

I’m not capable of love. And now that I’ve sent Blair’s recorded statement and blood stained dress to the FBI office, two things that should seal the deal on getting my dad out, I feel strangely….empty. Hopeless about the future.

Knowing there are at least two guns in the house perks me up.

This isn’t the first time I’ve considered taking my own life, but I’ve never wanted it more. It may seem like taking the easy way out; but with the constant chaos in my mind, it may be the only way for me to finally find peace.

…

Blair

I wake up with a smile on my face, snuggled down in soft comfy sheets and a new comforter, Brede’s warmth engulfing me from where he’s spooning against my backside.

Last night had been hot and sweet as we explored every inch of each other’s bodies, taking our time until we both lost our patience and were frantic to be closer. Brede moved inside me slowly but possessively, telling me he loved me over and over.

Sure, my body is a little sore, but in the best way. The muscles in my thighs burn from exertion, and patches of my skin are chaffed from Brede’s face that hasn’t been shaved in a few days. My breasts also ache and feel fuller where his hand continues to cup one in his sleep. My boobs usually only get this way right before my period starts, not that I’ve had many. Sometimes I would go months without one, likely because of malnutrition when I was in the hospital…

I try to think back to the last period I had. It was around my birthday, about two weeks before I left, and I’ve been out a little more than two weeks, so it should be time.

Unless…

Unless I’m pregnant.

Holy shit!

Filled with excitement and anxiety, I start to roll over and wake up Brede to tell him, not that I know for sure. First, I need confirmation.

Slipping out of his grasp, I ease off the edge of the bed and put on a pair of panties and one of the summer dresses he bought me yesterday while we were shopping. The brush of soft cotton causes my sensitive breasts to ache even more, especially on the sides. Feeling them…they’re definitely bigger, and that never happened around my period. I’ve always been pretty much flat chested. I’m starting to think it’s actually possible that there’s a baby growing inside me.

Knowing I’ll need some way to pay for the pregnancy test, I crouch next to Brede’s discarded pants and slip a credit card from his wallet since I don’t see the usual wad of cash he carries. He probably locked it up somewhere in the house, and I don’t have time to hunt for it.

As soon as my sandals are on, I glance back at the bed and make sure he’s still out. Brede’s arm is lying heavy in my now empty spot as he sleeps on his stomach, his chestnut hair messy and sticking up in all sorts of directions after my fingers tugged on it for hours last night. His dark tattoos stand out against the stark white of the sheets and comforter, making him look badass even in his sleep, and even with blue and purple flower prints scattered around him. He’s gorgeous, and while I desperately want to crawl back in bed and curl up with him, my mind is racing, needing to know for sure.

There’s a pharmacy just two blocks over, so I can get there and get back before he wakes up.

Aden’s door is still shut when I walk past it down the hall and into the living room. As quietly as possible, I unlock the two deadbolts on the front door and ease it open. It doesn’t make a sound as I step outside and shut it behind me.

Gripping the credit card tightly in my fist, I practically jog in the direction of the store. Still feeling paranoid, I occasionally look over my shoulder, just to make sure there’s no one there. The coast is clear, and soon I’m walking through the automatic sliding doors, relieved to feel the cool breeze of air conditioning on my skin.

Finding the aisle for family planning, I grab the early detection box with two tests so I can be sure of the results, before heading to the register. For a moment I worry that the credit card may not work and that I’ll be screwed. I can’t wait to find out if we’re gonna have a baby!

Thankfully, the transaction goes through without a hitch. The young guy working the register barely even greets me, too preoccupied with something on his phone. I nearly shout at him to hurry up when he takes his time dropping the box into the plastic back and tearing off the receipt.

Instead of heading back to the house, I weave my way through the aisles to the restroom in the back of the store. As soon as the door shuts behind me, I’m tearing into the box. Quickly reading the instructions, I open both test packets, uncap the ends and pee on them at the same time.

This is it.

In just a few moments, I’ll know if a baby is growing inside me. It’s insane the amount of hope I have for the answer to be yes.

I sit there and stare at the two pieces of plastic as time ticks by incredibly slowly. The control lines gradually turn pink while I chew on my bottom lip, waiting for another line to appear. And like magic, there are two distinct pink lines on both sticks staring back at me.

I’m pregnant.

While a torrent of worry bubbles up inside me, there’s also overwhelming happiness, because of the instantaneous and automatic love for the little person growing inside me, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Of course, I’m also scared of the unknown, and don’t know shit about kids or babies, but Brede and I can figure it out. Together. And Aden… sure, it may be his son or daughter, but that doesn’t bother me. I love him too. Maybe not the same way I love Brede, but I care about him and want him in our life.

It sometimes scares me how much Aden reminds me of other patients in the mental hospital, talking to himself or pretending to be someone else, but we can get him help. Just like we’re gonna get their dad out of prison.

It feels like I’m floating as I wash up in the sink, a smile lighting up my reflection in the mirror.

Clutching the positive tests and Brede’s credit card, I step out into the store and head for the exit. The summer heat slams into me as I walk outside, and I can’t wait to get back to the house.

As I turn the corner of the building to cross through the neighborhoods behind it, my feet suddenly come to a stop as reality slaps me in the face.

I’ve stupidly been daydreaming about a future and a family with Brede and ignoring the high probability that any day now he could get arrested and sent to prison for murder.

Just like his father.

No. I can’t let that happen. He killed Roger to save me, and I refuse to sit back and stay silent while he’s hunted and then taken away in handcuffs.

I’m pregnant, and I need him so damn much.

His father is still sitting in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. And while I thought Aden was gonna be the one to help get him out, now we know he was lying about being an agent. Brede can’t go forward and ask for help with his father’s case since he’s wanted. It’s up to me to save him. Both of them.

Turning around, I walk back into the pharmacy and ask the guy at the register to look up the address for the police department.

…

“So, let me get this straight. When you were eight, you saw your father, District Attorney Trevor Lockhart, kill your mother, Valerie Lockhart. And then he framed her lover, Benjamin Rawls, for it, and he’s now serving a life sentence?” the middle-aged detective asks, raising one of his dark eyebrows skeptically.

“Yes,” I answer with a nod.

“And why haven’t you said something before now?” Detective Matkins asks.

Ugh. Here’s the part where I lose any ground I managed to gain with him.

“I’ve been locked away in a mental hospital because they thought I was suicidal, but I’m not crazy.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Lockhart, but this isn’t our jurisdiction…”

Shit.

“My father paid off the police in Lexington so he can get away with anything, even murder. Now this Nadia Taylor is doing the same thing! No one there will do anything to help us! She tried to kill me, and my boyfriend saved me, but he…he had to kill Roger Lemons to do it.”

That makes the detective sit up a little straighter in his chair, taking me more serious.

“When was that?”

“About two weeks ago. And then a man, Dalton something, came after Brede’s parents, Paula and Jim…”

“The Willards?” Matkins asks, and I nod. “They were friends of my parents. Nice people.”

“They were, and they were murdered by a man hired by this Nadia Thomas bitch.”

The detective’s eyebrow lifts again at my name calling, but then he picks up the phone. “Let me try and find a federal agent in the Carolinas who can look into this.”

“Thank you,” I say, nearly jumping over the desk to hug his neck. He didn’t throw me out and call me crazy. He’s taking me seriously.

An hour later, and the interview comes to a very anticlimactic end.

“Sorry, Miss Lockhart, but that’s all we can do for now. And although it sounds like self-defense, your boyfriend needs to turn himself in, or he’s gonna dig his hole even deeper.”

“No,” I say, getting to my feet, clenching the positive tests and credit card still in my fist. “He’s not gonna turn himself in and then sit in prison the rest of this life like his father.”

“He can’t go around killing people and walking away either,” the detective argues with a scowl. “Look, if he would rather turn himself in to the feds in North Carolina, I might be able to look the other way for a few hours, but after that…”

“If I leave, you’re gonna have me followed, aren’t you?” I ask indignantly.

“Harboring a fugitive is a serious crime, Miss Lockhart,” the man answers seriously. “It would be in your best interest to persuade him to give himself up.”

Tears fill my eyes when I realize that I can’t go home or call Brede. By trying to help him, thinking I was setting things right, I’ve ruined everything! They’re gonna find him at his parents’ house now, and it’s my fault. I have to find some way to warn him.

“I was wrong to trust you,” I say before I turn around and leave, not having a single idea where to go.

Walking away from the police department, I try to think of what to do now. If I can find a pay phone, I can maybe call Aden. Do cell phones even take collect calls?

Dammit! I’m so screwed.

That’s my last thought before I’m jerked backward, my scalp burning as someone tugs on a handful of my hair. I fight to get free of the hold, my elbows ramming into the asshole’s stomach, assuming it’s one of the cops following me.

But as soon as I feel the cold steel of a knife against my throat, I go completely still. There are two things I know for certain. This isn’t a policeman; and with one flick of their wrist, I’m dead, just like how my father killed my mother.