Forged: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel (19 page)

BOOK: Forged: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel
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This is the raw, carnal, possessive side of Tobias that makes me ignite for him. It’s one of the ways he expresses how much he wants and needs me, and I never understood it before now, but it’s also one of the ways he shows me with his body that we’re forever. That we’re meant to be together. Why I hadn’t realized that before now is a mystery. I suppose it could be because I didn’t have reason to question the longevity of our relationship before. But for whatever the reason I didn’t get it, I’m glad I do now.

 

Tipping my ass higher, giving him access to go deeper, I hear his guttural groan and his thrusts become more erratic.

“Jesus, fuck, babe,” he rumbles as his palm connects with the soft skin of my outer thigh.

 

Writhing, trying to get even closer to him if it’s possible, I whimper at the force of his next stroke. He hits something buried so deeply inside me I’m tipped over the edge into ecstasy instantly. Crying out his name the edges of my vision start to dim, and I’m barely aware of Tobias’s own roar of completion as I come down from my high.

 

Wrapping his arms around me Tobias breathes raggedly into my neck, fighting to get himself under control.

“Holy shit. I don’t know how you do it, babe, but this just keeps getting better and better.” Chuckling lightly he adds, “Imagine how good it’ll be when we’re fifty, all the kids are out of the house, and we’ve gotten in all those extra years of practice.”

 

I snort at his mention of ‘practice’. The man doesn’t need practice, he’s already borderline God like with his skills in the bedroom. To be honest, if he got any better he might just kill me. Not answering him, I adjust my panties, and yes I’m that tired I don’t even bother to clean up, and snuggle back into his embrace using him like a big, comfy, body pillow.

 

Slipping his arm under my neck he settles in for the night too, or so I though. But then I hear him whisper,

“Me and you forever, baby. I love you so fucking much, Tilly.”

 

Kissing his bicep I reply on a yawn.

“Love you too, Tobi. You and me, forever and ever.”

 

With that I slip into one of the most peaceful night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time. It’s a shame it would only be a matter of days before peace became a thing of the past, and I’d be left wondering whether it had ever been real, or if it was just a figment of my imagination.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Tobias

“I smile because you’re my sister.

I laugh because there’s nothing you can do about it.”

-
        
Rotten eCard

 

I lay in bed watching Tilly sleep for hours not being able to find it myself. Finley’s diary is calling to me. It’s burning a hole in the pocket of my jacket where I put it after leaving lunch with my parents’. I should have known I wouldn’t make it even one night with it in my possession before I’d cave to the pressure and read it.

 

Finley started keeping a diary when she was twelve. Why she felt the need to I’ve got no idea, because as far as I was concerned I’d have listened to her pour her heart out even if it was about trivial shit like boy bands, nail polish, and who she liked and disliked for hours. Keeping secrets wasn’t our thing. We told each other everything, or ninety-nine percent of it, but there was just some stuff your little sister didn’t need to know. I didn’t think she’d appreciate knowing one of her best friends Amber was the first chick to give me a blow job when she was fifteen and I was sixteen, so wisely I kept that shit to myself. Everything else was fair game between us, or I thought it was.

 

Eventually sliding out of bed, being sure to check Tilly’s covered first, I make my way downstairs, grab a beer, and take a seat on the couch. Propping my feet on the coffee table, I open the floral notebook and start reading.

 

 

\

Dear Me,

I’m not going to address my entries to an inanimate object, what would be the point? These entries are written for the older me. The me in the future that’s all grown up and will want to look back on the times I was young and naïve, so I can laugh at myself and how silly I was.

 

Today was like every other day, slow and boring. They start running together sometimes, and no matter how hard I try to fill my time with useful pursuits, I can’t seem to find anything that fulfils me.

 

I know my friends laugh at me, telling me I’m too goody-goody, that I need to learn to let go and have a little fun, but I don’t want to be like them. I want to do something I’m proud of. That I can look back on and say I accomplished that, not sit there and ask why I wasted my time on stupid, meaningless crap.

Thinking about it, if they’re calling me names and laughing at me, they probably aren’t even really my friends, are they?

 

Tobi tries, he really does try to understand me, but even with him I don’t feel like I can be completely myself. It’s strange I’d feel that way when he’s nothing but supportive and encouraging of everything I choose to do. But that doesn’t make it any less true.

 

Mom and dad are gone even more now Tobi and I are getting older. It used to be only the occasional night out, but now they’re gone more often than they are here. It doesn’t bother me that they aren’t around, I know it should, but it doesn’t. Tobi’s always here if I need him, even though he should be out doing all the stuff a seventeen-year old boy should do. It makes me feel bad for being a burden to him, but special at the same time knowing he’d drop everything for me if I ever needed him.

 

One day I hope I can find someone to share all of my hopes and dreams with. Someone that won’t look at me like I’m a silly, immature girl who needs to grow up. Someday I hope I meet a man as wonderful as my brother and I love him just as much

7-20-1999

 

Rubbing the back of my neck I sigh. I can’t believe the bitches Finley used to hang around with would laugh at her and call her names. Actually, that’s a fucking lie. Of course I can believe it. Finley was beautiful, smart, caring, and came from a good family that had money, which by default made her one of the popular kids without anyone needing to know the first thing about her. Not that she wouldn’t have been popular in her own right, it just would have been in a different way.

 

Finley didn’t seek the in-crowds approval by wearing the latest fashions, getting her hair and nails done at the trendiest places, and trying to hook herself to the most popular jock. She wanted to be liked and loved for who she was, not who everyone else wanted her to be.

 

Placing my now empty beer bottle on the floor I skim through a few more pages, most of them the same sort of thing, until I get to an entry that has my heart stilling in my chest.

 

Dear Me,

I met the most wonderful boy today. Actually, I don’t think I can call him a boy, because he’s closer to being a man than most of the boys I know but still.

His name is Jarod Simons and he’s beautiful.

 

I don’t know if you’re supposed to call boys beautiful, or if manly, handsome, and sexy are better terms, but he’s all of those things and more. He’s sweet, kind, and honest. He’s interested in what I have to say, and not just because he’s pretending to be either. He really listened to me when I talked to him about becoming a doctor and wanting to work in the pediatric department of a hospital.

 

His dad has been trying to convince him to follow the rest of his family into law enforcement, but Jarod says he wants to enlist in the military as soon as he’s old enough to. I haven’t known him for long, but the thought of him doing something that dangerous, going into countries torn apart by war scares me.

It’s probably too soon to say this. No, I know it’s too soon to say it, but I think I could fall for this boy. There’s just something about him…

8-8-1999

 

Holy. Fucking. Shit! I had no idea my little sister had feelings for anyone, let alone a guy I’d called a friend. We weren’t close granted, but if anyone’d asked I would’ve told them I consider him a good friend and a standup guy.

 

Part of me isn’t surprised Finley kept that shit from me, Jarod either, but what bothers me is that I didn’t pick up on the signs when it was happening. I’d seen enough love sick teenagers during my high school years I should have been able to pick out a girl with a crush from a mile off. They were the ones I ran far, far away from after all. But thinking back on it, there were signs, just not until after she was gone.

 

Memories I’d discarded come rushing back to me with the force of a freight train. Powerful memories that would knock me on my ass if I wasn’t already sitting down. Jarod not being at the party the night Finley died, when usually he would’ve been the first one there. Him standing stoically at the back of the church during her funeral service, and him doing the same when she was lowered into the ground. All those weeks I saw him out of the corner of my eye staring at her locker as he walked past, trying not to but losing the battle every time. And the flowers…The flowers that were left in the exact spot she was hit week after week. Shit. It was all there. All the signs he was hurting just like I was, and I’d missed them. Every last one of them.

 

Finley’s last diary entry is dated the eighth of March 2000, the same day she died. What I read stirs up every emotion a human is capable of feeling, and all at once. Anger. Regret. Sorrow. Heartbreak. Fear. And then lastly, love. Soul deep, blinding, everlasting love washes over me. Reading what she’s written has an unexpected impact on me. I thought reading her diary would break something inside me. That it would make me miss her or mourn her loss even more, but I was dead wrong. It’s given me a measure of peace I didn’t think I’d ever achieve. Just to know she’d had the chance, at least in her eyes, to experience the beauty of love, even at such a young age gives me solace.

 

That was the one thing I’d hated most about her untimely death. That Finley, beautiful, sweet, amazing Finley, my little sister, the girl I’d always looked up to, hadn’t had the chance to experience the most beautiful thing, next to her, that life had to offer. I fucking despised that her life was cut short before her time, way before, but what pained me more was her not finding someone who would love her the way she loved others, with her whole heart. But reading this, I see I was wrong again. She did find that person, and however fleeting their relationship was, Finley was truly happy with Jarod, and that means more to me and my peace of mind than I’ll ever be able to express.

 

 

Dear Me,

I finally did it. I finally told Jarod I loved him today. And you know what…

He didn’t do any of the things I was worried he’d do, instead he said it back. Yes, that’s right. He said he loves me too.

 

I wanted to scream from the rooftops, jump up and down, and do a stupid dance when he told me. I didn’t think, with him being friends with Tobi and all, that he would see me like that, that he could love me the way I love him, but I’m so happy, so, so, happy I was wrong.

 

At first I was scared he said it back because he didn’t want to hurt my feelings, or that he didn’t want me to feel bad for pouring my heart out to him. When he didn’t say anything for a few minutes I turned to leave, but I didn’t get far. He grabbed me and hugged me tightly. He told me he’d been waiting for the perfect time to say it, and that I had beat him to the punch so there was no point denying what he’d been feeling for weeks now. Then…he kissed me. And it was PERFECT.

 

I don’t know if he knew he was my first kiss, I was too embarrassed to tell him before or after, but I think deep down he knows I was inexperienced. He kissed me for a long time. As in a really long time, and it was wonderful. He was so gentle and patient. I could feel how much he loved me in the way he kissed me. I couldn’t have wished for a better boyfriend, because that’s what he says he is now, and I also couldn’t have imagined a better first kiss.

 

It’s silly, but I wrote him a letter today, afterward, and it’s in the back of this diary. Maybe one day I’ll give it to him. One day when he needs to know how much I care about him, his dreams, and his ambitions. One day when he desperately needs to know someone loves him for who he is, not the name he carries, his family’s wealth, or what he can do for them, but loves him in spite of all that will be the perfect time to give it to him.

3-8-2000

 

Without realizing how she’d got there, I glance down to find Tilly curled up beside me gently stroking my thigh. Tears are running down my face and this time I’m powerless to stop them. I don’t want to either. This has been a long time coming, this feeling relief. And as much as it pains me to say it, my parents’ were right, I did need to read this, and Finley would have wanted me to have it.

 

I don’t know if she had some kind of premonition something was coming, or if she truly thought she could tell Jarod better in a letter than she could in person how she felt about him, but for whatever reason she wrote it, I know what I need to do. What I have to do for her to honor what I know she’d want. I have to find Jarod Simons and give him what Finley has given me. Peace. Because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that if he felt one ounce of the love for her that she felt for him, he needs that letter as much as I needed her diary.

 

Curling my wife into my arms and hugging her tightly to my chest, I breathe in the light scent of her vanilla shampoo exhaling heavily.

“I love you, mind, body, soul, and everything in between, Till. I always have and always will.”

 

Tilly brushes her fingertips softly down my face almost as if she’s committing it to memory. She traces every line, groove, and imperfection with reverence.

“And I love you more than you will ever realize.” Shifting off me so she can stand, Tilly holds out her hand. “Come to bed, Tobi. Let me love you.”

 

And just like that, Tilly washes away my pain and heartache, replacing it with beauty and peace.

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