Page 47

47

Calista

R onan fell back asleep nearly immediately after coming out of his comatose state. I’d had to wake Eamon to go get the nurse because I was worried that he was having one of those last minute moments of being alive, and his heart was going to give.

Thankfully, I was just being dramatic, and he was fine.

I mean, as fine as someone that was shot three times and had pulmonary edema could be. The doctors said they were surprised he was capable of even breathing on his own, but they warned he will likely have lasting effects since he was breathing in the smoke for several minutes, if not into the ten or fifteen range.

Ken’s recollection of the events are slightly fuzzy, only because he was hopped up on adrenaline. I don’t blame him, even I can’t really recall everything that happened.

The only thing that matters is that Ronan is alive and seemingly recovering.

It's been three days, and he's been awake for a total of maybe three hours. The first time he woke, he asked to see Ken and the rest of his family, who’d all been sleeping out in the waiting room. Ronan told them to go home, saying I’d call if anything changed. He was more worried about Mia being with a babysitter than about them staying by his side, which was almost funny—he cared more about the babysitter’s credentials than his own condition.

Eamon and he talked the second time he woke, and when they were done, he dismissed his brother to go see his wife.

The third time he woke, for barely thirty minutes, he asked me to tell him everything. So, I did, recounting every detail. I told him about meeting Samantha at the coffee shop, setting my townhouse on fire, planning for him to be at the cabin, and even my attempt to poison him. I left nothing out.

I begged him to believe me that I only did it for a week or two. It wouldn’t have been enough to cause damage. He laughed because he swore he was dying every time he drank and blamed it on just the lack of practice. However, the true reason he stopped was because of me. His worry was that something could happen to me, and he’d be too inebriated to help. I was ready to kiss him until both of our lips were numb, but he then promptly passed out.

It's day four in the hospital and he's finally able to stay awake and eat solid food. He seems to think that having me feed him would embarrass me, but as I push the last spoonful of Jello into his mouth, I just smile. Honestly, it only makes me feel more loved.

He licks his lips and adjusts himself against the stacked pillows behind him. “I prefer the blue raspberry.”

“Ew, we are breaking up,” I joke.

“I swear if you break up with me over a flavor choice, and I stayed after you nearly got me killed… I may lose my mind.” I know he’s joking, and I need to get used to it. There's this lingering sense in my chest that he’ll keep bringing it up, finding some way to make a joke about it every chance he gets. And that’s fine, I'd rather hear him teasing than face a world where he’s six feet under, leaving me without him.

As he pushes the cart away and raises both hands, signaling for me to come over, I don’t hesitate. Slowly, I crawl up beside him, settling onto his right side—careful to stay clear of where he’s injured. I can’t wrap my leg around him, not with the bullet wound in his thigh. Thankfully, it was a clean entry and exit, so it’ll heal soon, and before long, he’ll be chasing me through the woods again.

His fingers thread gently through my very greasy hair. I haven’t showered, too worried about leaving him for even a few minutes to use the hospital’s facilities. The most I’ve done is run downstairs—literally sprinting—to grab him snacks from the store.

“I forgot to ask,” he says before placing a kiss on the top of my head. “The cabin.”

I sigh heavily and rub my face against his chest. “Gone. It will have to be rebuilt or left as just land.”

His hand travels down to my neck, his thumb brushing against my jawline. “Let’s rebuild it.” I tilt my head up, his chin down to look into my eyes. “We need more rooms anyways.”

My lips pull into a smile. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

“Not by a long shot,” he groans. “Bad pun. You’ll be getting a collar…” I gasp. “Uh huh, and a fucking spanking you’ll need a few weeks off to recover from.”

I laugh through my teeth and nod my head. I suspect a lot of me graveling, sucking his dick, and some bondage in my future. I’ll take my punishment like the good girl I can be for him.

“Why do we need more rooms?”

“You know.” The sound of the door opens, and I mumble unintelligible words, not wanting to be interrupted. It doesn’t stop Ronan from continuing, “For the dogs.”

A flutter of butterflies fills my stomach, and I quickly lean up to press a kiss to his lips. He winks at me, but then his gaze shifts, and his smile falls instantly. The sudden change has me snapping my head around, searching for whatever just soured his expression.

“Mom?” I immediately begin to lean up, but Ronan quickly grabs my arm, keeping me right where I am.

It's not that I care about how she looks, but I've never seen her in this rough a state. Eamon follows close behind, though he bypasses her without so much as a comforting word or gesture. He moves to the other side of the bed, where I'm now sitting up, and then turns to face my mother.

“Sweetheart…” As she starts to speak, Ronan’s grip on me tightens. I'd told him everything that happened at her house—how she lured me into that trap, right to the Serrano’s. He said she’s lucky he can’t get out of bed for anything but a piss, or she’d have more to worry about than just his glare. “I’m sorry. I was looking out for Gene, too, you know. It was a difficult situation.”

I drop my head at the mention of her. I’ve sent her several texts and haven’t heard anything back from her.

“You actively put your daughter in danger,” Ronan seethes. “Fuck anyone else’s life but hers.”

She turns to me and shakes her head. “You have no idea what making a hard choice is. Picking a life—”

“Mom,” I cut in before she can continue. “You are wrong. So, so wrong. He’s made choices you’d only dream of being capable of making. You, me, we made bad choices…” I look at Eamon. “You, too.” I look back at the woman who raised me, the one who used to be there before she lost herself completely. I shake my head and shrug, letting a lifetime of disappointment settle between us. “Fuck you. Fuck you for hurting me and making me have to decide between one life or another. If you had done better; been a better mother, none of this would have happened. I forgave you too fast, and I’m coming to realize I should have left you so many years ago.”

Tears line her lids. “You can’t even begin to understand how I felt after losing your father.”

“Did you forget I also lost my dad?”

“It doesn’t excuse anything you did, Jasmine,” Eamon says. “Ronan told me how reckless you were with your own daughter’s life. Bringing her into that environment… at just fifteen?”

She lets out a weak pfft . “You have no room to talk. You haven’t even seen your own son in what, three years?”

“I was focusing on us, which now I can see is yet another mistake.”

Ronan lets out an exasperated sigh but doesn’t add to the commentary.

“Why did you come here, Jasmine?” I say, watching as surprise flickers across her face. It’s a simple thing, calling her by her name, but one I should have done long ago—separating my mother from the woman who hurt me. Maybe someday, she’ll earn that title back, but from today forward, I’ll decide the boundaries. I’ll choose the depth of our relationship.

After she stares at me in shock for a few more seconds, she turns to Ronan. “To tell you I’m sorry. That I wasn’t aware of the blackmail on you until they showed up with Genevieve. And… I hope you recover quickly.”

“I really don’t want shit from you other than for you to divorce my brother—” Damn … he just gets right to the point. “—so that I can have your daughter. If you choose to try and work it out .” The way he says it so mockingly has me horny. I feel filthy, I shouldn’t even be thinking about that right now. “I’ll still have the life I want to have with Cal, and at every family gathering, remind everyone what you did to her.”

I know he wouldn’t care about the title, about being called "step-uncle," but he wants it for me. I don’t know what the future holds, if kids will ever be part of it, but if they are, I don’t want that shadow hanging over their heads.

“We are getting a divorce,” Eamon says before Jasmine can retort. “I’ve been cheating on you, but you already assumed that I’m sure. The paperwork is already filled out.”

“This is like paying for a pay-per-view UFC fight, but without the fists,” Ronan murmurs.

What the fuck is pay-per-view?

“I…” Jasmine takes a deep breath, but instead of saying anything, she just turns and casually walks out of the room.

“Anti-climactic.” I turn back to see Ronan grabbing his cup of water and taking a sip. He then continues, “Thanks, Eamon. You didn’t have to come in here with her, though. Seems as though missy here is fully capable of shutting that bitch out.”

I look up at Eamon as he comes to stand directly beside the bed. He doesn’t look at me, but instead at his brother as he says, “I wasn’t coming in to save her, just came to be with you.”

He places his hand over Ronan’s knee and smiles at him.

“Great.” I can hear the shift in his tone, and I know that Eamon can too. He wants this, as badly as he wants to fight it. “I still prefer my solitude… with Calista. Speaking of, I’d really like to get the fuck out of here.”

“Hell no, you’ll be staying here until you aren’t at risk of infections. Your lungs are scarred, or did you just forget that?”

“Fuck off,” Ronan groans. “Listen, I can’t have you coddling me now . I’m damn near forty.”

Shifting my hand behind me, I search for his. I don’t have to look long—he takes mine, lacing our fingers together and holding on tightly.

“You currently are a baby, you had a diaper on just yesterday.”

“Oh, come off it, don’t even.”

The moment the three of us burst into laughter, the door opens again. We quickly silence ourselves as three police officers step through. My heart jumps into my throat, and I grip Ronan’s hand tighter.

Eamon squares his shoulders. “Can we help you?”

All three of the officers look down toward Ronan, but then to me. “Calista Sanderson?”

“Y-Yes?”

“We are placing you under arrest for suspicion of arson, specifically for intentionally setting fire to your property—” As the female officer comes around toward me, Eamon attempts to stop her, but she pushes past him. “—endangering others and violating state arson laws.”

She grabs my upper arm and tears me from the hospital bed. I can hear Ronan shouting but it’s overpowered by a loud buzzing noise.

“You have the right to remain silent…”

I find it hard to breathe as I’m placed against the wall and the first set of cuffs locks around my wrist.

Ronan

Three Months Later

I still have a limp, but I’m grateful it doesn’t impede me from driving a normal Honda Civic. Why in God’s name does Lux have this damn thing. It’s so small, and he isn’t a tiny guy.

I’m struggling to get out of this plastic piece of shit, shifting my weight onto my left side as I shut the door and round the car toward the metal gates of DWCF.

I’m here five minutes before noon, the exact time that Cal is supposed to be walking out of her imprisonment. I’m excited to joke about her two months in prison for arson. Baby girl got lucky she had a great lawyer—who wasn’t her mother—and she had mitigating circumstances on her side.

Two months incarcerated, with twelve months of probation.

It’s been a difficult period of time, but it has given me a chance to begin rebuilding my relationship with my brother. When I wasn’t here seeing her every single day, I was with Eamon, Ken, the boys, or Mia.

Calista gave me more than a woman to love, but a new view on my life. One that I can’t waste, and that starts with the prospect of living a full one with people that want to live it with me.

Although she’s given me a new outlook, it doesn’t take away from the punishment she’s going to be enduring.

The month leading up to her going in, she cried and was scared shitless of what awaited her. While I had no experience with women prisons, I gave her all the best tips; don’t drop the soap and eat fast. She had slapped me before I made love to her for hours. She had to do all the heavy lifting, and likely still will for the next several months.

The clinking of the metal gate has me moving once more to stand in front of it. It’s then I see her long blonde hair, braided over her shoulder just like I enjoy it, and rushing right out after me.

She drops the small bag a foot before reaching me, eagerly wrapping her arms around my neck. Knowing I’m still recovering, she doesn’t throw herself at me but holds me tightly instead. We had been in the cabin together for months, capable of touching each other, and to be forced behind a plastic barrier not being able to physically feel her was torture.

Drawing my hands up her back, I hold her just as tightly to me. “My convicted criminal,” I croon, before biting over her pierced earlobe.

“Alright, alright.” She gently rubs her head against the side of mine. “Already with the jokes.” Her hands come to my chest slowly before circling around my torso to my back and curving her body against mine. “I missed you.”

My fingers weave under her thick braid as I lean down and bury my face into the curve of her shoulder. “I missed you, too, baby girl.”

I place a kiss against her neck, and smile.

“I never wanted to jinx it,” she whispers against my shoulder. “But how were you able to come see me?”

Chuckling, I rub my nose against her neck. “Technically we are still ‘family’. I asked Eamon not to put the divorce papers in until you were out…” Apparently, being a convicted felon means I’m barred from stepping foot in a prison or anything remotely similar. Honestly, it’s a bit frustrating. You can be elected president as a felon, but I can’t even enter a building.

But because we are family… I was able to get around it.

She holds onto me tighter, and I can’t help but think back to when it was me walking through gates like these. I hope this is the last time either of us ever has to see the inside of a prison, jail, or any cell that separates us from each other and the freedom we’ve both fought so hard for.

“I love you, Ronan.” She hums as she releases me slightly, just enough to come into my view and give me a smile that I’ve nearly died for. One that now, I’m ready to live for. “Thank you for coming and seeing me.”

“I love you, Cal. You definitely don’t need to thank me for that… I’m excited for our life together.” I place my hand against the side of her neck and pull her back in. As my lips press to hers, she eagerly opens up and drags her tongue against mine.

She turns her head and places her hands behind my neck.

“Take me home…” she coos into my mouth. “Wherever that is right now.”

“Motel 6,” I joke.

“Sounds glamorous. Can we stop to get greasy burgers?” She continues to kiss me through her demands. “French fries. And a Coke.”

I bend down and grab her ass over her sweats. “Whatever you want, baby girl.”

As she smiles widely up at me, a snowflake lands on her nose. She moves her fingers through my hair and whispers, “You.”

I grin, pressing our foreheads together. “All yours.”