Resistance (29 page)

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Authors: K Larsen

BOOK: Resistance
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* * * * *

“Wake up,” Allie’s voice interrupts my dream. I groan.
Noooo, it was a good dream
.

“No
,” I mumble.

“Wake up!” she calls again with attitude. I rub the sleep from my eyes and roll toward Allie’s voice before glancing at the clock. Eight fucking thirty.
Why
?

“What is it
, Allie?” My voice is still thick with sleep.

“Surprise!”
she yells and points to the door frame where Pepper stands, holding a tray complete with breakfast, coffee, and a
Maxim
magazine. I barely notice the tray, though; Pepper is there in bare feet, wearing a green nightie with lace on it. It’s modest but sexy as fuck. Her hair is sleep-tossed and her mega-watt smile sets me on fire. My boxers incinerate themselves as I stare at her. I’ll have to let her know that later, when we’re alone.

“Breakfast in bed
, love.” She smiles from the doorway. I make some kind of grunt before I snap out of it and come to my senses. Holy mother of God.

“Wow!” I direct at Allie
.

“Are you surprised?!” she squeals
.

“Very. What’s the special occasion?” I ask her
.

“We just wanted to do something nice.” She beams with pride
.

“Well thank you!”

Pepper sets the tray on the bed and winks at me.

“Relax and enjoy.” Then she turns to Allie. “Time to eat ours now
, pretty girl.” They head towards the kitchen and I look down to my tray.

I take two bites and listen to Allie’s giggles floating down the hall
.

“Hey!” I call
.

“Yeah?” Pepper calls back
.

“It’s lonely in here. Come eat with me.” My two favorite people carry their plates to my bedroom, hop on the bed with me
, and we all eat our breakfast together. This life I’ve found, the one I’ve claimed, has sorted itself out. The wrinkles dissipate a little more each day, leaving behind a smooth, stunning surface.

 

 

Epilogue

Pepper Philips

Life is what Sawyer gives me. It's the most amazing gift to give, really. Every moment I am with him I feel alive. For so long I lived with grief and lies. Grief is a place where a person goes alone. A windowless space where you can't see a way out. I've never been good at saying out loud what really matters to me but, I'm working on that. Because if you wait for the right time, you end up running out of time. Without Sawyer there is no color, no passion, there is no fun in existing. He ignites a fire inside my soul that helps heal me.

There is a certain safety in pretending you
are okay. Real pain requires actual feeling. It hurts. If you don't feel it, though, you'll never accept it, move on, and heal. It's been hard for me to face everything I've experienced. Yet, somehow I've managed, and all along Sawyer's been right next to me, supporting me.


Mmmm,” he growls in my ear as his arms tighten around me. “Love wakin’ up with you.” And cue the belly whoosh. It never gets old. It never goes away. He makes my stomach feel like we’ve hit a big bump in the road and are in mid-air. He tells me this almost every morning we wake up together. Every morning I need to hear his words. They bring a calm peace with them.

“I think you
overuse
the words ‘I love you,’” I tease him.

“Maybe I should just show you
,” he grumbles as his hands slide up under my nightie. I have invested in a few new ones after finding out how much he likes them on me. This one is pale green with lace trim. It seems to be his favorite.

“Hop to it then.” I smirk. He chuckles and then gets to it
.

* * * * *

Today we are spending a day lazily hanging around the house. Allie had picked the first two movies and is now playing in her room after declaring Sawyer’s movie choice boring.

His arms are wound tight
ly around me as I snuggle into his hard, large frame before the movie comes on. His thumb draws slow circles on my hip. The circling thumb hooks my pj pants and pulls them lower to expose more of the tattoo he recently did for me. Tiny lettering on my hip spells out “
Adapted
.” It’s my own personal “
fuck you
” to the universe. I made it. I survived. I thrived. And I did it while finding happiness. No small feat. Beside the word is a small aster flower. I’d finally told him about my cousin Aster and how much I love and miss her. About how, like him, she just was. She’s a constant in my life. I don’t need her physically around because I’ve got her words inside me. In my heart and head. Her support and love lives there, deeply rooted in me. I’d finally been able to tell him everything about my life before Christiansburg and it felt so good.

Every Wednesday he comes into work to have lunch
with me, declaring he needs time with his woman. Needless to say, I’ve been swept off my feet. My head is stuck in the clouds and I count my lucky stars for that every single day. I didn’t think I’d have this. A life. A full life. Something to look forward to every day. Someone to look forward to every day. This man next to me, he didn’t fix me. He allowed me the space and time I needed to fix myself. The idea of love was so embarrassing to me when we first met. I was this awkward and uncomfortable thing who was running out of places to hide. But Sawyer’s love grew in me like a tumor, like a parasite bent on devouring its host. I let him devour me. I let him grow inside me and the result it has yielded is the most astonishing reward.

“Stop that.” I giggle and swat at him. He captures my hand in his, twining our fingers together as we settle in to watch his movie
.

After Ezra, Sawyer had stuck to me like glue for the first few weeks. I assured him I was fine but he wouldn't quit. Then, although I really thought I was fine, I started having nightmares. Sawyer was a saint. I was fine all day and a mess all night for the better part of a month. He found a trauma counselor via Clara and set up appointments for me after my return from the
retreat
. Still, every time I had a bad dream, Sawyer pulled me tightly to him and whispered in my ear that I was safe until I fell back to sleep.

Now a night devoid of nightmares happens plenty or by mostly avoiding sleep
—the things that man can do with his mouth. They happen much less frequently but Sawyer’s always in bed next to me, ready to distract. It’s a secure feeling for me. One I lacked in the past. There are moments when I feel like the exchange of air between us is life altering. As if somehow his oxygen is more pure than mine. But that being near him, with him, allows me to share his pureness of heart. That sharing the air he breathes is all it takes to set my soul on fire.

I’d tried to meet with Greta this week at the gym but she is mysteriously out of town. Again. Now that I’m more open to sharing things about myself I notice even more how much she holds back. She’s hiding something and I want to dig deep enough to find it. I want to be able to be there for her the way, albeit shallow in a way, she was for me. I’m blessed to have Sawyer and Allie but I’m also blessed to have found Dominic and Clara and Greta. The boys at Mayhem watch over me with a careful eye too
, always ready to have my back if I need them. I miss Greta lately. I need to call her more often. I need to be a better friend. Here I am with all these wonderful people surrounding me and I find it hard to make time for anyone outside of my tiny bubble of bliss here at home. I’ll call her tomorrow and find out when she’s due home.

“Tell me a truth
,” he asks. I tip my head and grin at him. God, I love this man.

“You take my breath away
, Sawyer. I’m just thinking about how lucky I am,” I admit.

“‘Bout to get luckier
,” he whispers. I grin and kiss him.

Allie bounds through into the living room with a shit
-eating grin on her face. She leaps up onto the couch and settles between us.

“Hi
,” I say.

“Hi!” she chirps. Sawyer reaches into the end table drawer and places a small
, velvet, square box on my partially reclined chest. Sucking in a sharp breath, I open the box slowly, trying to peek inside before it’s fully opened. Allie giggles at me.

“Sawyer
!” I hiss. “It’s stunning!” He pulls the ring out of the box and puts it on my finger immediately. It slides on with ease. “Oh my God. Look at it sparkle!” I squeal. Tears burn my eyes. I want to run away and bury myself inside of him simultaneously. My emotions run rampant through me.

“Almost as bright as you
, love.” A tear slips down my cheek and he wipes it away with the pad of his thumb. Yes, sharing his life, his space, his oxygen is all I’ll ever need in life.

“Will you marry us?” Allie asks
, eyes full of tears.
This kid. Us
.

My heart, that mass of scarred tissue
,
beats
. Really beats. Blood rushes to it, filling it, filling me. This man brought me back. I thought I was broken. Forever shattered, yet he taught me to love again. He taught me to
want
to love again. He proved that the very definition of “broken” means “able to fix.” And this sweet, sweet child embraced me with open arms. How could I ever say no to them? How could I ever think of disappointing them? They’ve supported my every move. I can’t fathom a single moment of my life, my future, without them in it.

“Is that a yes?” Sawyer asks, the tinge in his voice concerned
.

“That’s a
fuck
yes!” I bellow. I start to laugh, completely overwhelmed by the crushing love I feel in my chest.


Uhh,” Allie groans. “I’m really happy, but I think you’re gonna kiss now and I’m going to go watch The Regular Show in my room,” she rambles before scrambling off the couch.

“Hey!” I call out. She stops, pivots
, and runs back to my side. I open my arms to embrace her tightly. “Thanks for asking me.” I kiss the top of her head and let her go. She smiles and bounds out of the room.

“Now, it’s time to get lucky.” I waggle my eyebrows and straddle Sawyer, starting a trail of kisses from his jaw downward. He grins devilishly before standing us both
up and stalking to the bedroom. He strips my shirt up and over my head, tossing it on the floor as the door shuts behind us.

Lucky is an understatement. What he’s given me, it is more than luck. It’s pure and true and tangible. It’s everything I never thought I’d have and yet it’s so much more than I could have conjured up.
This time
I’m going to show him just how
lucky
he makes me feel. I’m going to make him understand. And there’s no time like the present.

 

The End.

 

Stay tuned for the last installment in the Bloodlines Series, Greta and Bentley’s story,
Target 84
, coming next. Don’t miss it, the whole gang will be back in
Target 84
.

 

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Abused by her husband. Dealing with the loss of her only sister. A suicide attempt that doesn't end in death and a husband who wants her inheritance. Elle's life is a catastrophe. But she has a list and thirty things she's determined to accomplish. Love isn't on that list but it comes crashing unexpectedly into her life.

Ryan's current lifestyle requires a lot of funds, he likes his toys. He married his wife knowing she had a hefty inheritance and is bent on securing it for himself by any means possible.

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Trick's intrigued by the new waitress working at his bar but after some strange behavior he's determined to break through her walls and help her heal if she'll let him.

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