Unfinished Hero 02 Creed (14 page)

His hips started bucking up to meet my downward glides.

“Yeah, baby,” I whispered in his ear.

Suddenly, both our bodies jerked up the bed and my head flew up to see he’d pulled us both up, his arms were now cocked, the muscles flexed and straining in his biceps, the veins in his forearms had popped out.

I looked to his face as our hips met over and over, rough, hard, fast, deep, beautiful.

“You wanna touch me,” I said softly.

“Want your tits in my hands, your tongue in my mouth.”

“Take it,” I breathed.

His hands immediately moved but only one curved around my breast. The other one dove into my hair and crushed my mouth down on his. His tongue spiked out and I took it. It curled around my tongue then he sucked deep, my tongue was in his mouth and I gave it.

His thumb slid across my nipple hard and I took that too, moaning down his throat, our hips moving faster. His finger met his thumb and rolled. The kiss, already wild, went out-of-control and I had to lift a hand and curl my fingers around my headboard. The power of his hips increased so much, if I didn’t, he’d throw me off.

It was coming, fuck, holy shit, it was coming.

I tore my mouth from his and my head flew back.

“Ride ‘em, cowgirl,” he murmured and it was the first time
in my life
I came while smiling.

* * * * *

My head dropped forward as it left me, my hands were curled around the top of my headboard and I still felt Creed’s mouth between my legs. His head to the pillows, I was sitting on his face, his tongue lapping at me, sweet, gentle, even tender.

Fuck me.

I shifted my hips, he got the message, his fingers, already curved around my hips, pulled me down the length of his body and I collapsed on him.

“Right, you got a Costco around here?” he asked and, sated, relaxed, in a total happy zone, this question threw me.

So I muttered into his neck, “What?”

“You weren’t fuckin’ around. You
can
go all night. This means I need to find condoms in bulk.”

My body started shaking on his with my laughter and I lifted my head to look down at him. “I’m not sure Costco sells condoms in bulk.”

“Worth a fly-by to check and see,” he muttered and I kept laughing but collapsed back into him.

He waited until I quit laughing then his arms gave me a squeeze.

“You got the plan?”

I nodded. “Knight’s business as usual, no one’s the wiser we got the goods on Amy and Nair except Lively who will pass along bogus intel. Set up. You need to work on Charlene’s car after you pick up the part tomorrow morning. I’m on Nick. Tomorrow afternoon, another search of his place. After that, we regroup.”

“You got it.”

“You tired Grandpa?”

He was silent.

Then, “Shit, seriously?”

I lifted my head and smiled down at him. “No. I’m wiped.”

He pressed his head into the pillow and looked back at the headboard muttering, “Thank God.”

“God’s not in my headboard, Creed.”

He looked back at me, grinning. “Disagree. Saw some heavenly action tonight.”

He was not wrong.

I tipped my head to the side and dipped my voice low when I asked, “You wanna sleep in here tonight?”

His voice was dipped low, a flash went through his eyes and his arms tightened again when he replied, “Yeah.”

“I don’t cuddle,” I told him.

His arms tightened again but this seemed reflexive before he muttered, “Right.”

“He cuddled.”

Another flash went through his eyes as his jaw hardened then he unclenched it to repeat a muttered, “Right.”

“You can manage that, you’re welcome here until you go back to the Grand Canyon State.”

One of his hands slid up my back, over my shoulder, up my neck to curl around the side of my head before he whispered, “I’ll take it, Sylvie.”

It was my turn to mutter, “Right,” and I did before I shifted off him.

I turned off my light.

Creed turned off his.

I pulled the sheet up to my waist, settled on my belly, head turned away from him, knee crooked. I didn’t know how he settled.

“I like morning sex,” I warned into the dark.

“Fuck me,” he muttered.

“That’s what I’m saying.”

I heard him chuckle.

Then my body tensed as I felt the tips of his fingers glide over my hip, my ass to my waist in a super soft touch before they moved away.

“’Night, partner,” he murmured.

“’Night, Creed,” I murmured back.

Five minutes later, Gun joined us, curling in the crook of my leg.

By the sounds he made, Creed fell asleep before me.

It took me a while.

Mostly because, over and over in my head, I heard his voice saying,
call it
and saw in my mind’s eye his hands curling around my headboard.

I adjusted minutely, reaching out to Gun and sifting my fingers through her thick, soft fur.

“Fuck,” I whispered.

She started purring.

I fell asleep.

* * * * *

Creed

“Fuck,” Creed heard her whisper.

He squeezed his eyes tight.

He heard her cat start purring.

He cuddled.

Creed opened his eyes.

It took some time but the cat quit purring so he could hear Sylvie’s breaths come deep.

He shifted out of bed and moved to her dresser. Carefully, he opened the drawer where he found it while he was doing his search a month before.

He dug back behind her tees and his fingers hit it.

He pulled it out, moved to the window and stood in it, letting the moonlight light the wooden box as he flipped it open.

His put his finger in, flicking through the chains there.

Eleven necklaces. Eleven peridot pendants.

He flipped the box shut and his eyes went to the bed.

Her cat’s head was up and Creed knew she was looking at him.

Sylvie kept his necklaces. She cared.

She kept them.

She cared.

He fucked her twice that night, made her come four times. She was there but she was not. He could be anybody.

But if she kept those fucking necklaces, somewhere in her, she cared.

He put the box back, grabbed his shit and left the room. He dumped it on the floor in her wreck of a guest bedroom, climbed into the double there and settled on his back.

He shoved one hand between his head and the pillow. He lifted the other one and traced the scar on his cheek then through his hair, his fingers pressing deep, feeling the ridge along the skin under his hair, over his skull until it stopped.

The memory played in his head like it did thousands of times before, his voice coming back, pained, weak.

Promise me.

The bastard promised.

He’d lied.

Creed rolled to his side.

He didn’t cuddle Chelle. He gave her that until she fell asleep and then he set her away.

He’d fucked her over, huge. He’d tried but a dead man felt nothing. Creed had nothing to give. He wanted to, she deserved it but it just wasn’t there.

He couldn’t sleep next to Sylvie, his Sylvie, and not hold her.

So he didn’t.

I’m Creed

A cold, dark autumn night in Kentucky, twenty-six years earlier, Creed is thirteen, Sylvie is eight…

Bootsie yapped and I opened my eyes.

Darkness.

Silence.

Then I heard it, like a tap on the window.

Oh boy. This had never happened before.

I threw the covers back, jumped out of bed, ran to the window, threw it up, stuck my head out in the cold and looked down.

Tucker was standing in our side yard.

Wow! This never happened before!

I waved then pointed to me and down. He nodded and started walking toward the backyard.

I pulled the window down and ran to my closet. It was cold and I went to Tuck’s once without mittens and a hat and he got mad at me. So even though I had to be quiet, I pulled on socks, boots and my coat over my nightgown then added my mittens and a hat.

I bent down to Bootsie. “This is different, Bootsie. You don’t get to come this time.” She whined a bit and I put my mittened finger to my lips and said, “Sh.” I dropped my hand and continued, “I’ll be back real soon, promise.”

I gave her fur a ruffle, kissed the top of her head then super careful but as quick as I could, I dashed down the hall, the stairs, through the house and outside.

Tuck was standing at the partially opened back gate.

I ran across the yard and when I was close enough, he reached right down, grabbed my hand and pulled me through the gate. He closed it slowly behind us then he moved, real fast, dragging me with him through the woods.

It was then I knew this wasn’t fun. This wasn’t like meeting him at the lake. This wasn’t like when I went to his house with the squirt guns, got him out of bed and we had a squirt gun fight at night, in the dark, in the woods.

This was something bad.

When we were well away from the house and no way Daddy could hear, I asked, “Tuck, what’s the matter?”

He let me go but he didn’t stop walking. He walked to a tree, slammed his opened hand on it then slammed his shoulder into it and turned around. He then slammed his back against it and slid down to his behind, pulled his knees up and dropped his head.

Oh yes. This was something bad.

I rushed to him and got down on my knees beside him.

“Tuck, what happened?” I asked.

“Sheriff brought Mom home.” He told his lap, stopped then kept going, “Again.”

I got it then. His Mom got drunk all the time and she got pulled over for driving that way. Tuck told me they took her license away. Now she had to walk, take a bike or get a ride everywhere. It put her in a bad mood and she took this out on Tuck.

I got closer and put my hand on his knee. “Oh, Tuck, I’m sorry.”

His head came up, turned and his eyes came to me. “She lost her job, Sylvie. Two days ago.”

I didn’t know a lot about these things but I knew that wasn’t good. They didn’t have a lot already. I knew, Mrs. Creed without a job, now they’d have less.

“Tuck,” I whispered.

He shook his head. “Not Tuck.
Creed.
”

“What?”

“Sheriff’s deputy had a partner. They got Mom in on the couch but I heard ‘em talkin’ outside. Said they didn’t get it. Said she was a mess. Said she
always
was a mess. Said, ‘cept her bein’ pretty, they didn’t get why Dad liked her. Said she was trouble. Too much. Not worth it. Even too much for Brand Creed. Said she was good for nothin’. Said they hoped her boy,
me,
was more like Brand than her.”

He stopped talking so I whispered, “Okay.”

“Mom gave me the name Tucker,” he told me. “Dad used to tease her. Said she was crazy, namin’ me Tucker. ‘Least I gave him Creed,’ he’d say, laughin’, grinnin’ big at her, makin’ her roll her eyes right before she’d giggle and give him a hug. So that’s who I am. I’m not what my Mom gave me. I’m what my Dad gave me. I’m Creed.”

“Creed,” I agreed.

He looked away and muttered, “Done bein’ Tuck. Done bein’ crazy, drunk Winona’s boy. I’m Brand Creed’s boy. I’m Creed.”

“You’re Creed,” I told him.

He turned his face further away and I had a feeling he was trying not to cry or not to let me see him cry so I gave him that. Boys did that and I didn’t know why but I did know it was important.

I sat next to him though, got close, shoved my shoulder into him and started wiggling it so he had to put his arm around me. When he did, I pressed even closer. He got kinda stiff for a second then he relaxed and his arm curved tight around me so I rested my cheek against his shoulder.

But I didn’t say anything. Sometimes, when I was trying not to cry and someone said something, it’d make me cry.

So I just pressed close.

We stayed this way a long time. It wasn’t comfortable but it was warm and it still felt good.

Finally, he said something.

“You know, I lost him too.”

“I know Tu… I mean, Creed.”

“She acts like she’s the only one.”

“I know.”

“It’s been years and I still find her drunk, smellin’ bad and passed out on the stupid couch with a stupid bottle, booze drenched in the carpet, his picture in her hand.”

I pressed closer.

“I lost him too,” he whispered.

“I know, Creed.”

He pulled in a loud breath.

Then he said quiet, “You gotta get home.”

I didn’t want to but I agreed, “Yeah.”

We got up and he took my hand as we walked back to the gate. He stopped me like he always did outside. Then his eyes dropped to my throat, his hand let mine go and he lifted it and twitched the pendant there.

He looked back at me and grinned. “You’re always wearin’ one ‘a those.”

I nodded.

“Even if they don’t match your outfit,” he kept talking.

I grinned back. I liked it that he noticed. It felt good.

“I like them,” I said. “And they’ve never turned my skin green.”

He shook his head, still grinning and told me, “You’re a goof.”

I shoved his shoulder and told him, “
You’re
a goof.”

He shoved me back and replied, “You’re a
bigger
goof.”

I smiled big and said, “Yeah.”

“Go to bed, goof.”

“Okay. You go home, goof.”

He shook his head again then opened the gate for me.

I started to slide through but turned back and looked up at him.

“Creed is the best name
ever
,” I whispered. “I always thought so. Always. I’m glad you’re Creed but you always have been, you know.”

I heard him pull in another breath.

Then he whispered, “Go to bed, Sylvie.”

I grinned up at him. “Okay, Creed.”

I slipped through the gate, hearing it latch quietly behind me.

Then I stole through the yard, the house, took off my warm clothes, changed my nightgown that had mud stains on the knees and seat, hid the dirty one under my mattress and I went to bed.

You Can’t Breathe without Me

Present day, four days later…