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ELEVEN

CEE CEE

It’s been almost a month back in Jamaica, tending to my father. He is doing better but I’m doing worse. Much worse.

Horrible in fact.

The letter I received at Dr. Stinson’s that night was from my dad, informing me that my mother had passed away. Just like that. No details. No emotion. Just a plane reservation for me to depart immediately and return home. I could have thrown it away, but it felt like the universe was speaking to me.

After that night with Thorne, the way I fell so quickly, made so many mistakes, then found out more about who he really was…I felt stupid, and I felt like history was repeating itself. It just made sense that I should go back home this time, back to where it all began. I think I scared myself straight onto that plane.

When I held out my boarding pass with my forged state I.D. to the TSA agent, I thought I was going to pass out. Lucky for me, he must have been having a good day because he actually smiled at me and told me to have a good flight.

I felt bad about leaving without a word. To Thorne but also Mrs. Takashima. It’s cowardly but when I get scared I just run.

But then on the flight I kept thinking maybe I’d made another huge mistake. I mean, for all that, Thorne had treated me right. My head was all over the place, so I figured I would come down here, work through the painful history I had with my dad and go back and face Thorne with a clear head. Ask the right questions. Be an adult. Maybe let the gravity of what happened pass. See him clearly without the lust mist that fogged every reasonable thought process that night.

Well, that was the plan, but it didn’t happen.

My father’s been confined to a wheelchair for many years. He’s in the advanced stages of liver disease and now his kidneys are failing as well. Doesn’t keep him from drinking mind you. You’d think livers were a replaceable organ the way he acts.

He said, when mom passed away after a massive stroke, he wanted me home. After all these years that little girl inside of me still craved what he had never given me, so I caved to my father’s request, thinking I would rejoin the family and absolve myself of my past sins.

But, absolution did not come.

I think of him every day. Every hour still. Every micro-second is entwined with him. Thorne. And there’s something else, too.

I’m pregnant.

Of course.

I must have been the Goddess of Fertility in a former life.

My homecoming, family bonding fantasy is an epic fucking fail. Telling my father, yet again, that his daughter is knocked up by someone she barely knows will surely have me back out the door.

This morning, my father sent me back to the doctor for some follow up bloodwork. Said they found something the needed to double check. I didn’t want to go, it’s all just a little creepy, but it beats sitting alone in that huge house waiting for my father to summon me to his one of his two chambers for to fill some whim or need. Now, there is a lump in my throat that cannot be dislodged.

I’m not sure what all the doctor appointments are about; my dad just keeps telling me he wants to be sure I’m healthy now that I’m back home. I know they will find out I’m pregnant and then I have no idea what will happen to me.

I am avoiding going back to the house, so I had my driver drop me at the market for a few things. As much as I love my father, I still feel nothing from him. It’s like he’s acting a part. Saying the right things, showing me how different he is, but it just feels contrived.

Maybe I’m just jaded or I don’t understand him. We were never close. It’s unreasonable for me to think that things will change just because I came home.

The wicker basket that hangs on my forearm is full of junk food. The classics from when I was a little girl. And a box of donuts. They will taste like air and cardboard, I’m sure, because I’ve been spoiled.

But I need them.

Stupid fucking donuts.

As I check out and pay for my evening’s edible decadence, I think about just heading to the airport. Flying back.

I don’t know, but flying somewhere. Flying anywhere.

Déjà vu all over again.

Then my self-loathing cuts through me. How am I this indecisive about my life? Why can’t I just know what is right and wrong? Not good and bad, necessarily, but just right and wrong. For me. Everyone else seems to just know, but here I am like a damn flapjack on a hot skillet.

I thank the shop owner as I pay for my goodies and step out into the sunshine. The chatter of tourists and locals tickles my ears as I push my sunglasses along my nose and look up and down the block for my driver and car. It’s strange being back, living this way. Going from my single room over Mrs. Takashima’s grocery to chauffeurs and a mansion by the sea.

A black Lincoln comes into view at a slow, steady crawl up the street. The car itself is not all that uncommon around here; they are what many tourists use to get around instead of the common folk cabs. So I’m not sure the black sedan is my ride, but I step out into the street, ready to wave my hand if I recognize Henri behind the wheel.

Even with my sunglasses on, I have to squint to see though the glare of the windshield. It takes me just a moment to realize it’s not Henri so I start to step back when there’s a muffled shout from inside.

“There she is, stop!”

I don’t know why, but somehow I know they’re talking about me, and I turn to flee just as the driver’s side rear door flies open. I stumble, but manage to step back onto the sidewalk without falling on my face. Trying to regain my balance, I glance back to see a man slamming the back door.

I don’t need another second to realize who it is.

He’s on me in three strides, his fingers taking my sunglasses from my face and stuffing them in the front pocket of his suit.

“What the hell are you…?” I’m sure there are a trillion and one other things that would have been more appropriate to say, but sometimes my filter is just flicked off.

Thorne leans down to whisper in my ear. “You can run, but you can’t hide, CeeCee.”

Those are psycho stalker words, right? But they send a shiver through me that tells me what I’ve known every night since I came back here. He’s right and I like it.

I should never have left. He’s in my soul and as much as I had questioned everything about my decisions, now that he’s here I’m exactly where I want to be.

“I’m sorry.” I look up as he settles me under his arm, draping it across my shoulder. The world is spinning, not just in my vision but throughout my whole being, and out of the corner of my eye I see Henri pull the car over and step out. “That’s my ride.”

Another fine, engaging choice of words in this situation, CeeCee. Way to communicate the tirade of feelings that are swirling like a tsunami inside of you. Don’t hold back, say what you really feel.

“You want a donut?” I reach into my basket and hold up the box of horrible donuts for him to see.

He smiles that smile and I swear I’m levitating. Nothing feels attached, let alone me, to the ground or anything else.

“We’re fine, little bird. Let’s go talk.” He squeezes my shoulder. “But don’t ever buy donuts from someone else again, okay?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“You want to see where it all began? The mess than is me?” My words are hesitant but for some reason, I want to take him home. I feel safer knowing he’ll be there with me, even if just for a short time.

The whole drive back to the house, Thorne holds my hand. I’m frozen.

Not sure what to say or if I should tell him about the baby. Ask him how he found me. Why he’s here. But we don’t speak. We sit in silence in the back of the car, and it’s a comfortable silence. When we finally get home, my father’s limo is gone and we walk silently through the main living room and toward the wall of windows.

My father lives in only a couple rooms in the house at this point. His eccentricities have grown since I left years ago. He stays in his office, or takes the private elevator to his suite on the third floor. Since I’ve been here, I have the entire house to myself so I feel safe having Thorne with me. For the first time since I’ve been back, I don’t feel so lonely in this huge house.

I lead him out onto the veranda that overlooks the ocean. My family is old money here on the island. They’ve been involved in politics and business ventures here for a century. I grew up as a princess, but I was still the black sheep. When I left, all I remember is heading to the airport.

Nowhere to go.

I’d just scanned the departures leaving in the next two hours. Flight 2670. To Detroit. Where Philip died. It’s nowhere I’d ever been, but for some reason, it made me feel closer to him.

I landed in Detroit, barely any money, and nowhere to stay. I met a sweet lady as I stood outside the terminal crying. She was my guardian angel and I know now the universe sent her to me.

Mrs. Takashima.

“Come here.” He takes my hand and sits down on one of the long sofas that adorn the stone patio, pulling me into his lap. “You’re glad I’m here.”

It’s not a question, and all I can do is rest my forehead on his shoulder, hoping he will forgive me. I nod a bit against him and wait for him to tell me what I need to hear.

“Baby girl. Listen to me. We may have only had one night together, but you are mine. That’s it. I will come and find you a thousand times if I need to. I don’t care if it doesn’t sound logical. I tried to give you time. Then I realized that wasn’t going to work. So I started searching for you. You certainly know how to run and hide your tracks, CeeCee Baldwin. I mean, Peabody, but I’m persistent.”

“And I’m an idiot. I felt the same way about you, but I don’t know. The next day it just felt like I was reliving past mistakes. You had a visitor to the apartment, by the way.”

“I know. Saul. Let’s just say we caught up with each other. He won’t bother you again.”

“He was saying all these things about how you guys share girls and, I don’t know, other crazy stuff. I guess I just freaked the fuck out.”

“He had no right scaring you like that, and what he said was a load of crap. I guess you know that I went to prison. I’m not proud of it, but it happened. I deserved it, I’m not going to lie to you. I met Saul in there, but we were never what you’d call friends.”

“I know, and I’m not judging you for who you used to be. But when I found that out, and then when I heard from my father that my mom had passed, I was sure it was a sign. A sign that it was time for me to grow up, stop making stupid mistakes, and come home. So I did. But I thought about you every minute of every day.” I bite my lip. Knowing if this is going to work, one hundred percent honesty in the only way. “One more thing.”

I pull his hand and set it on my belly. Tears well in my eyes as I see the immediate connection light up his eyes. I don’t need to say the words, he knows.

“I didn’t think I could be happier than I was one second ago. But, I am.”

He pulls me into his chest. The soft drum of his heart in my ear as his chest rises and falls.

“I love you little bird. I have since the first moment you came into my shop. And I’ll love you for every moment from now until death do us part. Every moment.”

Thorne

To have her like this, curled in my lap, her breathing slow and steady…content is the only word that makes sense for how I feel right now. Knowing she’s breathing easier because I’m here just confirms that my entire reason for being is to take care of her. Of us.

Of everything we are to become.

“You’re so beautiful, Cee,” I whisper as my lips taste her neck, my fingers wrapping in the back of her hair, pulling her head sideways as I feed on the flavor of what’s mine. My teeth leave a mark where they’ve been, and her squirming on my lap turns my cock to iron.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” Her words come out in a breathy, slow stream.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you, Cee.” They aren’t just words, they speak of something deep within me, down from my core, a pain that I felt from the moment I knew she was gone. It’s an emotional need, but it’s a physical one, too. They’re connected, intertwined, inseparable. “I’ve missed your pussy. I need you to take a seat on my face for about four hours. I’ve never felt anything like you, little bird. I want it all.”

I scoop her up and gather her into my chest.

“Careful,” she giggles as I step toward the open door of the veranda. “I’ve put on a few pounds.”

“Just more of you to love, little bird. I’ll take every inch and come back for more every time.”

“I’m sorry I ran.”

“Shhh. I need you. We need this now. I need to fuck you. That’s where we need to start. Trust me. We need to rebuild that connection, and this is the fastest way.”

Her arms wrap around my neck as I step inside the mansion. Her eyes are on mine, her tongue wetting her bottom lip. I think of her spitting and drooling on my cock as I drive it down her throat.

I’m a filthy motherfucker when it comes to her.

“Stairs, turn right, end of the hall. Double doors.”

I take the steps two at a time even with her in my arms. Her grip on me tightens but she has no idea how safe she is. I’d die before I’d drop her.

Inside the bedroom I turn and kick the door shut.

“I’m a closet princess,” she giggles in my ear, but it’s an apt description of her room.

“Wow.” I take a quick glance around. Fucking her in a room that’s bathed in pink and covered in ruffles almost turns me on more. If that’s even possible. “You really are my baby girl, aren’t you?”

I walk us over to a bench at the end of the bed and lift her up and off me. Then I set her feet on the wooden surface and step back.

I stuff my hands down in my pockets as I let my eyes wander over her, starting at the top of her head and taking my time memorizing the way she looks at this moment. The sun streaming in the window highlights her left side, casting shadows that accentuate her curves.

Her eyes sparkle and her arms don’t seem to know what to do.

“What am I doing just standing here?” she asks after a long minute of me admiring her. Regarding her. Reveling in her. She’s so intoxicating. She’s my addiction. I have no doubt I’ll never get enough.

“You are pleasing me.”

“But…” She fidgets with the bottom of her sweater. Then one hand goes to the tiny gold crucifix around her neck. She starts zipping it back and forth on the chain. “I’m just standing here.”

“You don’t need to do anything more than that right now to please me, little bird. The last month almost killed me and I’m just soaking you in. I’m also planning all the things I’m going to do to you.”

There is a light pink that crawls up her chest, onto her neck. I think of the heat of her skin. How it would feel on my lips. The pride I feel swells inside of me knowing her blood is moving in this way because of me.

That is a stunning thought, isn’t it? That my presence can change the very flow of the blood in her body. I’m in awe.

“You amaze me,” I tell her and watch the disbelief grow in her eyes.

I close the space between us. A long, low sigh rumbles from my chest as my hands go to her hips. My head tips back and forth as I look at her from different angles, my mouth watering and my imagination running wild. “I’m going to love you until it hurts. You know that, don’t you, Cee? Are you ready for that? For me?”

The doubt on her face turns to desire. I watch the change in her demeanor. There is a tigress in there and I intend to unleash it and never tame it.

“I’m right here. I’m not running anymore.”

Her hands go to her sweater and she begins to unbutton it from the top.

The first button comes undone.

The second.

The third.

Without being asked, she’s giving herself to me, and that is another in a long list of the most beautiful moments of our life together.