The Hunted (18 page)

I can’t contain the laughter that escapes at her ridiculous question, but I also notice by the expression on her face that she’s not dropping this topic either.

“His name is Van.” I have Ivy’s undying attention at this point. “He’s my neighbor.”

“Holy shit, Bay, you’re banging that sex god. He made me orgasm with just eye contact the other day.”

Once again laughter strikes. “Hey, when did you see him?”

“You’ve become really good at avoiding my calls and texts, so I showed up at your house. At first, I thought he was going to kill me, but then his stare unraveled me.”

Jealousy courses through my veins. I know it’s completely stupid since Ivy is my best friend, and I do trust Van. But the fact he can melt panties is what pisses me off and awakens the green-eyed monster in me. I want to be the only one whose panties he’s lighting on fire.

“Anyway he said you were at your mom’s, so I left.” Ivy twirls a piece of stray hair around her finger. “Is his dick huge?”

“Enough,” I squeal.

A young man holding two baskets of food stands at the end of the booth with a burning crimson face. He totally heard Ivy’s question, and if I had to guess my face is the same color as his. I help the poor boy out by grabbing the baskets from him and setting them in front of us. He races from the booth as if his ass were lit on fire.

“Okay, tight lip Sally, I know you won’t give up anything else, so just be careful, Bay. He looks like a lady killer, heartbreaker, king Trump.”

I nod, acknowledging her warning knowing she won’t give up on the fact if Ivy senses any dispute on my end.

“So, your news?” I pry, sinking my teeth into the warm bread. I nearly moan when the mixture of pesto, tomatoes, and turkey swirl around on my taste buds.

“I’m pregnant.”

And that nearly causes me to choke on the delicious bite. In true Ivy fashion, she sugarcoats absolutely nothing. Both of my eyebrows shoot up into my hairline, and I freeze holding the sandwich to my mouth.

“And it’s Gannon’s.”

I choke as a piece of turkey lodges in my throat. She pauses, allowing me to cough and sputter until my eyes water. I take one long sip of tea to ground myself.

“How?” I shake my head. “When?”

“It happened before you met him. We slept together a couple of times.”

My appetite vanishes as I drop the sandwich down to my basket.

“You had sex with Gannon and never told me?” It’s an accusation but comes out as a question. I feel all the blood from my face drain rapidly.

“We were going to tell you if you two ended up in a serious relationship, but you kind of dropped off the edge of the world.”

I can’t argue with her point.

Ivy picks at her sandwich, pulling it apart. “I really thought this would never happen to me.”

“You do know about condoms, right?”

“Yeah, Bay, I do. Not everyone is as perfect as you.”

“Then you know the consequences of unprotected sex.” I’m pissed the more I talk and know I have no right to be but this whole situation is fucked up.

“He said he was a pro at pull and pray. I guess we didn’t pray hard enough.” She shrugs her shoulders with a hint of a smile sitting at the corner of her lips.

“You’ve always sucked at praying, Ivy.” I slap the top of her hand and shoot her a smile, ignoring my feelings right now. “Does Gannon know?”

“That’s the other thing.” She pauses, taking a long drink of her soda.

“Ivy.”

“We’re together, Bay.”

Did not see that coming at all. Abortion, adoption, not telling Gannon it was all possibilities. She reaches into her purse, digging around for some time. When she pulls her hand from it there’s a ginormous shining diamond perched on her ring finger. I’m not sure if my tears or jaw drop first as I process everything.

Counting over and over again in my head while tamping down my anger and any other emotion streaming through me, I force a very fake smile in her direction.

“Say something, Bay,” Ivy pleads.

My thoughts drift back to my apartment sharing dinner with Van and the front seat of his car when he was owning me. I feel my happy place and know I’m living life right now and Ivy is too. I have no right to be angry with her. I know my mind just needs time to process everything.

Ivy begins tapping her nails on the countertop waiting for me to respond. Adulting sucks. Being an adult in this situation really sucks big hairy balls. I’d give anything for us to both be little. Problems were so much easier then. I let go of the anger focusing in on Van and finally speak.

“So you are telling me that I sucked on Gannon’s dick after he’d been balls deep in your nasty?”

Ivy’s face lights up in joy. She presses both of her hands to her chest. “I’ve been so worried you’d hate me, Bay. I told Gannon if you didn’t approve we couldn’t get married. You mean so damn much to me.”

“I love you like a sister, Ivy. You’re my best friend. I think I’m just in shock.”

“It’s been hell. I’ve missed you so much.” Tears begin to fill her eyes. “I’ve needed you.”

Guilt begins to build up in me. Jesus, who thought this lunch could be so damn emotional.

“How do you know Gannon is the dad?” I pry, knowing Ivy is quite loose when it comes to keeping her legs shut.

“He’s the only I’ve had unprotected sex with.”

“I won’t sit here and lie to you, Ivy. I’m hurt and pissed by the fact neither of you told me this. Gannon lied to me saying he’d never had unprotected sex.” My voice raises a bit too loud for the area of the small deli.

“I totally understand.” Ivy drops her head. “No more lies or hidden secrets, Bay. I feel horrible about all of it but need you in my life.”

I only nod.

“I’ll fix this, Bay.”

“There’s nothing to fix.” I finally admit standing to my feet. “I haven’t been fully honest with you either, but that’s a story for another day. Fresh start right now. Want to check out where I work?” I hold my hand out to hers not sure how Ivy will react.

It only takes moments before my best friend’s hand is in mine and the world seems right again.

M
y feet ache
with each step to the door, and the entire length of my spine is stiff as hell from hanging canvases and decorating the gallery for the auction. It’s damn hard work but the most rewarding.

It doesn’t help that I haven’t seen my sweet boy for three long fucking days. I laugh out loud when I realized I referred to him as sweet. He left me his car and keys and also reassured me that there’d be eyes on me while he was gone. Every single time he brings up the extra protection I want to tell him he’s overreacting but don’t.

He left his phone at the apartment, so even simple texts have been null and void. I visited Ivy one night but told her I wasn’t ready to see Gannon yet. I also left out Van’s reaction to the whole story–let’s just say it wasn’t pretty at all.

Before unlocking the door, I turn back to the Challenger and click the remote twice to make sure Van’s baby is locked up for the night. The dusk is settling over the city horizon, telling everyone to get ready for the night. I won’t be venturing out in the dark air alone.

The front door is cracked open when I go for the lock. Holy shit, did I forget to lock up this morning? I mean, it could be completely possible since I’ve been so distracted with the upcoming auction and desperately missing Van.

A loud clatter rings from the inside of my apartment, causing me to freeze in horror. A scent wafts out the door. It’s not just any scent. Then I hear his voice singing along to Michael Jackson.

“Van,” I scream, throwing the door open and tossing my bag.

He peeks around the corner in his damn plaid boxers with wet hair. My feet can’t move fast enough to get to him. He’s only feet away, but it’s like sprinting in quicksand.

“Never leave me again.” I leap up into his arms, burying my face in his neck inhaling his scent. “Oh, my God. I can’t live without you.”

His deep chuckle vibrates off his chest. “I fucking missed you too, Junior.”

Van runs his palm over my hair and then digs in deeper, clutching it. He pulls my face up to his and then runs the tip of his nose over mine with a million dollar smile on his face.

“You’re cooking?” I quiz.

Van sets me down on the countertop and takes several steps back, running his hands through his wet hair. The outline of his cock in perfect view pushing through the thin material of his boxers.

“I need to eat first and then I’m taking you all goddamn night, Junior.”

“Oh, my God, Van.” I cover my mouth when my eyes finally roam over his body. “You were fighting.”

Deep purple bruises cover his ribs and speckle his belly. A line of stitches goes from the top of one shoulder towards his pecs.

“Yeah, it was my last.”

“You were at the club?”

“No, we traveled. It was a mess, and I’m done with fighting.”

“I don’t want details do I?

Van walks over to the stovetop, which has several pots of simmering goodness on it. He’s close enough for me to reach out and touch. My fingers circle around some of the bruising.

“I’m glad you got your ass kicked,” I finally say.

Van turns to me still stirring a thick alfredo sauce and quirks an eyebrow at me. “Oh, really. You don’t know what the other guy looks like.”

That thought does make me internally cringe. The fucker is probably lucky to still have his face attached.

I only shrug. “If you’re done fighting then I’m happy.”

I wedge my leg between the front of the stove and Van until my toes are dancing over his erection.

“I don’t want to wait, Van.”

“We have to,” he grunts. “Once I start on you there will be no stopping. My dick is sore from jerking off since I’ve been gone.”

“Poor boy.” I slide down to the floor, sinking to my knees and freeing his cock before he can protest.

Van’s free hand runs through my hair and then clutches a large chunk. I steady myself for him to yank me up to my feet.

Being brave, I look up to him before I grip the base of him. I run the head of his dick over my parted lips before I speak. “Let me make it all better, Big Bad Wolf.”

His grip on my hair tightens but he doesn’t force the direction of anything. A bead of pre-cum forms on his tip. My tongue instinctively darts out to taste it. Just a tiny taste of my man, but I want so much more. I swirl the head of his cock with my tongue before taking all of him into my mouth.

His deep grunt is my first prize. I work him over with my hand and mouth taking long glides of his cock. He grows larger in my mouth bobbing in the back of my throat. I graze his sensitive skin with my teeth until I hear his loud moan–my second prize. Enjoying having him back, I slow down, bringing my lips to the head of his cock, and pop my lips off of him. The sound makes me smile.

Van tugs on my hair, but I don’t move. I wait until he forces me knowing he can’t stand not having my lips wrapped around him. He rips me closer, leaving a lingering pain in my scalp that oddly adds to the friction between my legs. I work his head fast and hard until he’s fully in my mouth once again. He uses both hands as his hips fuck my mouth. When I peek up at him, I see his teeth sinking into his bottom lip and feel his cock pulse in my mouth. Prize number three shoots down the back of my throat.

“Fuck me. I needed that.”

I hear a spoon clatter down onto the cooktop and then feel Van lift me up from the floor. He sets me back on the countertop, leans in, and places one fucking hot kiss on my lips before returning to the meal. Ignoring the screaming, throbbing sensation between my legs will be damn near impossible.

“Here, baby.” I force my stare away from the toaster to see Van handing me a large glass of red wine. My eyes light up.

“Thank you.” I take a sip of the bitter, wicked juice and relish the sensation of it flowing down to my stomach. “You must have slayed a lot of whores and kitties on your trip for all this.”

His laugh is deep and hearty. “I’ve only got my eyes set on one whore and I’m actually allergic to cats.”

“I’m not a whore.” I lean over and slap his shoulder.

“You’re my whore. I get you whenever, however, and as many times as I want.”

I can’t help but smile back My phone rings in the living room.

“It’s Ivy.” I wave him off, knowing it’s her special ringtone.

“How’s that shit show going?” Van smiles.

“Fine.” I shrug. “We had lunch.”

His fist slams down on the stovetop, leaving a healthy size dent in it.

“Calm your tits. Gannon wasn’t there.”

“Fucker better not have been.”

Like a ninja, I switch the topic. “What are you cooking?”

“Swedish Meatballs.” Van covers one pan, then wrings out his flour dusted hands on a dishtowel.

“Looks like a pasta sauce.”

“Nope.”

“Where did you learn to cook?” I finish the glass of wine with one final swallow.

Van nestles his way between my legs dangling over the counter, pours me another glass, and then scoots me to the edge, clutching my ass cheeks.

“You trying to get lucky, mister?”

“Mmmmmm,” he moans into my chest. His hands snake up the front of my shirt. “But I refuse to burn my cooking.”

I laugh like an idiot remembering all of my burnt meals. “Answer my question. Where did you learn to cook?”

“My mom.” He looks up at me. “She loved to cook and would always have hot meals on the table for us.”

For the first time ever, I spot a smile of happiness playing out in his eyes as he talks about her.

“This is my favorite recipe. She’d let me sneak into the kitchen and steal meatballs while the gravy finished. I’d eat so much I’d be sick all night long.”

“I can’t wait to eat then.” I lean forward, placing a kiss on his forehead. “I fell way too damn hard for you, Van Hollis.”

“Drink your wine and be a good little girl while I finish cooking.”

“Yes, Daddy.” I kiss his forehead one more time before he backs away.

The tart wine soon begins to fog my mind, voiding out everything and everyone except Van. His lingering scent assaults me, creating an even stronger vortex of Van captivating me.

“So you’re close with your mom?” I slap a free hand over my mouth, feeling like an idiot for asking. “I mean you talked very fondly of her.”

I finish another glass of wine in one long gulp avoiding eye contact. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Here, Junior.” Van sets a piping plate of meatballs covered in a creamy sauce on the countertop. “I loved my mom. You can ask me anything. I may not answer but you can ask.”

I balance the plate of meatballs on my lap while Van uses his fork to cut a couple of them in half.

“Noodles?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “I hate rice. It’s a texture thing.”

He places a forkful of meat to my mouth. It’s a simple action but romantic as hell. The bite is steaming hot, yet the taste sends fireworks off in my mouth.

“Oh, my God, Van.” I cover my mouth, relishing the taste.

“Good shit, huh?” He wags both of his eyebrows while stuffing his mouth with bite after bite.

“You’re going to get sick, baby.”

His cheeks are stuffed to the max, making him look like a chipmunk. It’s moments like this that I think we may just find our own slice of normal in this fucked up world.

S
leep is tempting
with Van’s deep breathing surrounding me. He made well on his promise of cooking me an excellent meal and then fucking me thoroughly. Falling asleep is impossible, as I only want to breathe him in, run my fingers through his messy hair, and plant kisses all over his skin.

He’s definitely an onion with each new layer–more intriguing than the next. Stereotypes defining him but such an injustice in his case. He’s not the con, bang ganger criminal, but that’s what he lets the world believe. When he spoke of his mom tonight something inside of me broke. It’s not the first and more than likely not the last time Van Hollis will change me.

I sit up as high as possible until I can stretch far enough over his sleeping torso to grab my phone. The tiny voice screaming inside me tells me not to do it, but my curiosity wins out in the end.

I search his last name on the Internet. At first, it’s just filled with articles about Argo and his police work and different awards he’s received. Van’s name comes up, and it’s just about his prison time.

“He’s a cop too,” I whisper in the darkness of the room. Van shifts a bit becoming more intertwined into my body. His dad is a cop. The article is all about when Argo became a cop and how proud his father was. It mentions how proud his mother would’ve been of her oldest son, but not one word about Van. You wouldn’t even know he exists.

“Oh, baby,” I whisper then brush some loose hair from his forehead. My lips glide over his face as tears begin flowing down my cheeks. I only know a slice of information about his childhood but can tell it’s bad really bad.

One final article catches my attention. It’s an older one.

Local Officer Loses Wife in Accident

Officer Hollis a well-known citizen and dedicated officer loses his wife, Lucy Hollis, in an accidental drowning. The two were high school sweethearts, living out their American dreams with their two children, twin boys, Argo and Van Hollis.

Lucy was very active in the school’s parent teacher association, donating her time to the local senior center and raising her boys. She always had a smile on her face and open arms to everyone surrounding her.

Late on Friday night Officer Hollis made a frantic call to 911. He’d found his wife face down in their hot tub located in their backyard. The community’s hearts have shattered for him. Lucy’s bloodstream contained alcohol, which detectives have determined was her cause of death.

The department has surrounded Officer Hollis and his two boys at this time of sorrow in their life. His devoted love for his wife has shattered everyone’s hearts at this time. An account has been set up at Panorama Bank in the name of Officer Hollis.

It takes a few seconds to catch my gasping breath and then my gaze lands on the picture under the article. A full-grown man with his arm around a young boy looking down into a hot tub in a backyard. The picture stirs up emotion after reading the article. Sorrow and sadness paints the scene. Then I see another boy in the background with his head dropped down and arms crossed. It’s Van.

“Junior.” An arm falls heavily down on my stomach as Van rolls over propping himself up on an elbow. “You okay?”

I close out the screen and toss my phone to the side of the bed, fighting back the tears hungry to roll down my cheeks for my sweet man.

“Fine, just couldn’t sleep.”

“What’s up?” He’s fully awake propped up on his elbow staring down at me.

“Just checking…” I trail off.

He quirks up an eyebrow like a real-life walking, talking lie detector.

I shake my head side to side, letting my curls flourish across my face. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

Clutching to the sheets, I slowly drag them down my body while continuing to fight back all the raging emotion of tears wanting to stream down my face. He doesn’t ask any questions as he watches me.

“Van, you always tell me that I’m yours and you own me.” I flick off the last of the sheet hanging on my big toe leaving my body completely exposed to him.

He only nods to me.

“I’m yours. All yours but you have to understand that you’re all mine, all of mine. I love you.” I perch up on my elbows until I’m nose to nose with him. “All of you from your scars, past, and present, you’re all mine.”

I give his elbow a gentle tug until he’s covering my skin from head to toe.

“What’s this about, Junior?”

“Me and you, Van. You’re my masterpiece.”