Page 37 of Blood (A Killer’s Love #4)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Kaleb

I sit in the car for a few more minutes. It’s been a long fucking day.

How did things get so out of control?

We’d been happy this morning, and now everything was fucked up. Shelby’s in the hospital, and Sam’s back to ignoring me.

Mom and Dad’s car sits next to mine in the drive.

I never imagined being in front of this cabin and feeling this much dread again, but here we are. I can’t stay out here forever.

When I walk in, the ground floor is dim, light spilling out from the kitchen.

I follow it like a moth to a flame.

Dad sits alone at the kitchen table.

“She told you.” It’s not a question. I can see it written all over his face.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s a small town. We knew before she came back.”

“Where is she?”

“Upstairs. Lying with your mother, she’s sobbing her heart out.” His throat bobs. “Kaleb.” He shakes his head, at a loss for words.

But he doesn’t have to say them. I can’t bear to hear them anyway.

Pulling out a chair, I sit opposite him. My whole body shakes, and I bite the bullet.

“I’d like to keep your surname. Please?” I beg, looking down at the wood beneath my shaking hands.

“I can’t stand the thought of taking that whore’s name again,” I whisper.

I don’t look up at Christopher as I keep talking.

“I’ll make sure Sam texts Helen every day.

Every day,” I promise with a nod. “And she’ll be here every Sunday, without fail.

” A tear drops onto the table. “But she’s not sleeping over every weekend. Maybe once a month.”

Silence fills the kitchen. The stillness is interrupted by my odd sniffle. Wiping my cheek, I take a deep breath.

Now or never.

Looking up, I meet the eyes of the best man I know.

The silence eats at what is left of my soul.

Reaching out, Christopher wraps his hand around the nape of my neck. Using his grip, he pulls me closer. I don’t resist. “You listen to me. You are now and always will be Kaleb Cromwell. A smart-ass, funny, energetic, loving, hardworking, cheeky little shit. My youngest son. A Cromwell.”

My chin trembles at his words.

“The day you changed your surname sits up there as one of the best days of my life, sharing a spot with the day we adopted your brothers and the day your sis—” Dad cuts himself off, pausing before he corrects his words.

“The day that Samantha was born and the day you moved in. Topped only by the day I married your mother. You will always be welcome in this house, Kaleb, because you’re family.

My son,” he says, stressing the last two words.

I’m openly crying. Dad leans forward, resting his forehead on mine.

“My son,” he repeats in a whisper. “My favorite.” He smirks.

I laugh at his words, snotty and breathy. We all know Samantha is his favorite, a spot earned by being the only girl. But I don’t voice that.

Dad gives his own sniffle, pulling back. “Don’t break her heart, Kaleb,” he pleads.

“I won’t,” I promise, shaking my head. “I’m going to marry her,” I vow, looking him in the eye. “I’ll always take care of her.”

“You have been for a while,” Dad acknowledges. “I just never imagined it was because of this.” He waves his arm vaguely, but we both know what he means.

“It wasn’t always.” I shake my head. “The past few years, our relationship has been . . .” I shrug because the man needs to hear about me falling in love with his daughter about as much as I want to talk about it.

Dad cringes but motions upstairs. “The longer you leave her, the worse it’ll be. Go talk to her.”

I push back from the table and stand.

“And Kaleb,” Dad calls.

I wait at the bottom of the stairs, my heart beat picking up. “Don’t let Helen hear you calling her by her first name. It’ll crush her heart. We’re your mom and dad. We love you no matter what.”

I nod, my chest expanding as the vise gripping my heart finally releases.

“I love you, too, Dad.”

I knock lightly on my parents’ door. It kills me to wait, but Mom opens the door a few seconds later.

“Hi.”

Lame, Kaleb.

I wait with bated breath. Will Mom react the same as Dad?

Soft lavender perfume surrounds me as I’m pulled into a deep hug.

“Have you spoken to your dad?”

Quickly wiping away tears, I nod.

“Good.” She smiles, and her fingers join mine in drying my face.

“Are you going to make this right? I don’t like seeing any of my kids cry, never mind two.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I promise.

“Any news on Shelby?”

I shake my head. “We’re going to the hospital once I fix this.”

Mom nods. “I’ll be downstairs with your dad.”

I wait for her to leave before closing the door and approaching the bed.

“Don’t,” Sam yells the minute my hand touches her back.

I ignore it as she tries to shrug me off. I rub her back until her breathing settles.

“Shelby and Riley?” she asks, her voice muffled in the pillow.

“Riley is perfect, not a scratch on her. Shelby . . . is alive. I don’t know the extent of her injuries. I wanted to get back to you.”

I lean down and press a kiss to her covered shoulder.

“Don’t,” she snaps, rolling onto her back. “We did this.”

“Kyle Cooper did this,” I correct gently.

“While trying to get at us.”

“Sammy,” I start softly.

“Don’t Sammy me, Kaleb,” she huffs. Propelling forward, she shoves at my chest with all she has.

“Samantha,” I warn.

“We did this, Kaleb. We did,” she cries, hitting my arm and then her chest over and over. “We did. I did.”

“Careful,” I reprimand, catching her arm. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Samantha struggles in my hold, wriggling to her knees for more leverage.

I back away, standing from the bed.

Something flashes across her face.

“Or is that what you need?”

Sam’s eyes meet mine.

“You want to hurt.” It’s not a question. She needs a release, but she can’t voice it. “Fine.” I nod.

Reaching back, I pull my T-shirt over my head.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she hisses.

“Giving us both what we need.” My hands drop to my pants. “You need to feel something, and I need you. Besides, a good orgasm will do you good.”

“Not happening.”

I tackle her to the bed before she finishes. Sam struggles below me, hitting my chest and arms, but she avoids my face.

She wants to hit me; she doesn’t want to hurt me.

“Tell me to stop,” I challenge, catching her arms.

“Get the fuck off me.”

“Tell me to stop,” I repeat, kneeling above her so that I can roll her onto her stomach with her arms captured in the middle of her back.

“I hate you.”

“Tell me to stop,” I whisper, moving her onto her knees.

I unbutton and shove down her pants, taking her panties with them.

Releasing her arms, I push her forward, forcing her hands to catch her.

“Tell me to stop,” I say one last time as I shuck down my pants.

No?

Hands on her waist, I give her zero warning before burying my cock inside her. One strong thrust and my hips meet her ass.

“Ahhhh,” Sam cries out.

Pulling out, I bottom back in, her hips shooting back to meet me.

Our hips meet in a clash of frustration.

Fuck me. I will never get enough of her.

Over and over, Sam sends her body back to accept mine. My left hand grabs her tit. Shoving her bra out of the way, I grip her hard enough to leave bruises. My right hand locks in her hair, tugging her back harder than before. Her scalp must be screaming.

She wants pain, I’ll give her pain.

Wetness builds between her legs, and her pussy ripples as she nears the edge quickly. Pinching her nipple, I twist and pull, ripping the orgasm from her.

She’s loud and frantic as she comes, coating my cock with her juices.

I push through her tensing muscles, giving no reprieve.

Sam cries out again as her cunt contracts once more.

Over and over, I fuck her as hard as I can. Each cry of pain is followed by an orgasm bigger than the last. The headboard knocks against the wall with the force that I thrust.

Finally, her continued denials turn to begging.

“Please, please.”

“Give me one more,” I order.

Releasing her chest, I bring my hand down on her ass. Every time I pull out, my hand rains down in the space between us.

The ache in my hand adds to the ache in my balls. I need to come. I need to fill her. Remind her who I am. What we are.

Roaring, I grip both of her shoulders and yank her back onto my hips. Thrusting and pulling with everything I have.

I know it hurts her. My own hips feel sore, but I know it’s the right thing to do when she screams in pleasure.

Her orgasm shakes her entire body. Our juices mix and flow out of her, and she gushes with every pump.

Together, we’re left breathless. My shaking legs are barely able to hold me as I climb off the bed.

“I get why you like sleeping in here. The bed’s comfy.” I wink, buckling my pants.