Stricken Resolve (16 page)

Do I want to hear about her feelings for
James? No, not really. Actually, hell the fuck no I don’t. But I’m
not going to be a complete dick and tell her to go talk to someone
else when she’s finally willing to open up to me.

“You sure?”

I nod, squeeze her knee and Jenna starts to
cry. Reaching my other hand into my pocket I pick out my phone and
check the time. Yep, she’s hungry; it’s feeding time.

“Did you bring a bottle?” I ask, as she pulls
Jenna into her arms.

“No, I didn’t have time to pump. We went to
breakfast this morning at Denny’s with Davis and sat in the back
corner so nobody would recognize me.”

I frown. “Why?” My voice is on guard, she
shouldn’t have left the house it isn’t safe. Why would she do
that?

“Why, what?”

“Why did you go?”

Leaning in closer she whispers. “My parents
don’t think about the media problems. They think I’m some normal
woman in a normal life, who just lost her fiancé and had twins.
They forget the rest. So they had Dylan all dressed and ready by
the time I got up and fed and dressed the babies. Dylan was so
excited to be leaving and I didn’t want to break his heart so I
called Davis to take us, even though it’s his day off. And he said
it was fine. But we both know it’s not fair to him. Anyhow, we went
to Denny’s and I felt completely uncomfortable, I’m ugly and fat
now that I’ve had these two and James is the only man I want
protecting me. Don’t get me wrong—I trust Davis, I just don’t trust
him enough to kick some ass if it came down to it. I know James
would have taken a bullet for me and I don’t think Davis
would.”

I can’t stop thinking about the fact that she
left and I had no idea. That’s not how this works. She can’t just
leave.

“Where was Cammy?” If she was home and didn’t
call to tell me they were leaving I will fucking hurt her tonight
and I don’t think she’ll like it as much. I will turn her ass into
welts as I fuck her ass. I’m so fucking pissed!!

“I don’t know. Not here.”

If Cammy wasn’t home then where the fuck was
she?

I growl. This is bullshit. My baby was in
public with only one motherfuckin’ guard and I had no clue!

“You can’t leave without telling me,” I
snap.

“What?” She sounds surprised.

“You fuckin’ heard me bitch, you better not
leave this fuckin’ house with my children and Dylan without at
least two or three of those new guards. Do you understand?” I lowly
order, making sure I don’t yell because I don’t want to upset her
mom or dad who are building a castle with Dylan but she better
understand this shit better never happen again.

Removing my hand from her leg I punch the
sand, grunting. I’ve got to get rid of this pent up anger. Shit,
this isn’t good.

Punching the sand again and leaving my fist
in it, I turn my head and go to glower at her. My anger vibrating
through me. But as my face takes in her body, Jenna’s mouth on her
exposed breast, a hand slices across my face. Fuck! What the
hell?

“Don’t you ever call me a bitch again you
asshole,” she seethes, her eyes glowing with furry. Oh shit I
did
call her a bitch. Dammit! And things were going so good.
I shouldn’t have lashed out at her. Talk about a quick turnaround.
I’m no longer angry and in its place I’m drowning in guilt. Why do
I always have to ruin such a great time with her?

“I’m…”

She slaps me again. Harder this time and my
face burns like hot coal.

“Don’t you fucking ever call me a bitch,” she
reiterates like I didn’t get it the first time.

I got it… I understand… Trust me.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” I hold my hands up
in defeat and she takes Jenna off her breast and places her back in
her spot next to Eric. Her eyes never leaving me. She’s fuming.

“You better be sorry.” She turns to face me
and her hand goes to slap me again, except I catch it mid hit this
time.

“Stop hitting me,” I order firmly, trying not
to yell at her again.

“No, you fucking deserve it. You called me a
bitch, you knocked me up, you hurt me over and over… then I fell in
love with someone else because you couldn’t get your shit together…
And now he’s killed me. I’m dead inside!” She screeches, letting
out all of her pain. Unleashing it on me and I deserve every single
bit of it.

I let go of her hand and a tear escapes her
eyes. Awe, my poor baby, don’t cry.

“I know. I’m…”

She slaps me in the face again and this time
my reflexes don't react quickly enough to catch it.

“That is enough!” I roar. This shit has got
to fucking stop. I don’t like to be hit! Goddammit!

Seizing both of her wrists, I push her
backward onto the blanket, her back landing in the sand, her hair
splaying beautifully around her and hold her arms above her head,
her body under mine. Oh shit this isn’t a good position. Not a good
idea. Fuuuuccckkk. My cock gets the memo of what my mind is seeing
and I turn painfully hard.

“Get off of me, asshole,” she snaps
aggressively, filling every word.

“No, you better stop fuckin’ hittin’ me.”

She’s wiggling under my body to break free.
I’m not going to let up until she stops being a bitch and gives up
on the slapping. I hate to be slapped. I may deserve it but I don’t
want it. My face is burning and I’m sure it’s going to swell. She
doesn’t slap like a chick. She slaps like a gay dude, just like
Stacy would.

“I’m not going to stop, you are an asshole
and deserve it.”

She’s lost her ever lovin’ mind! And my cock
is beggin’ to take advantage of this situation. Stupid dick!

“I don’t deserve it, baby. I love you. And I
might have fucked up a lot in the past. But I’m here now and I love
you baby. I love you so damn much.” I accidentally hump her and her
jaw tightens, lips draw in, and eyes squint. She’s beyond the
pissed off point. She’s into psycho mode. I know she’s hurting and
it’s feeding her pain. But damn this has got to stop.

“You’re hard? Does this shit turn you on,
dickhead?”

“Yes… Thinking about you makes me hard.
Seeing you makes me hard. You’re sexy as hell. What do you expect?”
I answer honesty, and my hips involuntarily hump into her again. I
really have to stop that!

All of a sudden she stops fighting me and her
body goes lax. What the hell? Saying
uncle
already?

“Since you’re never going to stop trying to
get into my pants or be with me, just do it and get it over with.”
She turns her head to the side and opens her legs further. Her tone
is so sad it makes my heart ache. Is her life really that bad that
she’d just give in? I know she doesn’t want this.

“I’m done bleeding. Get you’re rocks off. Use
me and leave me. Everyone I’ve ever been with does it. Take another
turn.” Her monotone words shrivel up my manhood and it retreats,
feeling like a complete jackass.

Holy fuckin’ shit, why didn’t I think! Her
first boyfriend cheated, me and my Grand Canyon load of shit, then
Claire and now James. Fuckin’A, we are all undeserving of her. All
of us hurt her. We should all rot in hell!

“I’m not going to sleep with you baby,” I
reassure her gently.

“Why not? It’s what you want. It’s what
everyone wants from me and then they want to leave. I’m not
innocent, I know I’m horny too. But I don’t choose to leave. They
all leave me.” She mopes, and I slide off of her, onto my side. I
rub my hand up and down her belly, just so I know she’s here with
me and to show her I do care. Her head’s turned away from me,
looking out over the sand. She’s lost. I knew she was in pain from
James leaving. I’ve known I’ve put her through hell. But I never
realized how many people have taken a piece of her and broken her.
And now it’s hit the wall and she just can’t take it anymore. I
don’t blame her one bit.

“What do you want?” I lean in and softly kiss
her bare shoulder.

“I want someone to want to love me. Someone
to be with me like James was. I thought he loved me. Then he broke
up with me and left. I’m not mad about the assignment, whatever it
is. I’m hurt because he decided he didn’t want me while he was
away. I would have waited for him for the rest of my life. For him
to come home to me.
If
he wanted me. But apparently no one
loves me enough to stay and be faithful and honest. I can’t ever be
with you Johnathan. Not how you want. My heart was never
yours.”

I suck in a painful breath. God that hurts to
hear aloud.

“I
do
love you and I’m grateful for
you and us having Eric and Jenna. But James opened up parts of me
that I never knew existed. He loved me like I never knew was
possible. I never worried about his intentions, or how he felt. We
were always open and honest with one another. He comforted me way
before we were a couple. He was always my better half. Until now.
Where half of my whole is gone and I’m left broken and empty.
Nothing tastes, feels, or smells right anymore. It all seems blah.
Except those moments I hold our children or Dylan, and for those
moment’s I feel whole again. Like he’s here with me.”

I don’t know what to say to this. It ruins my
plans for us. I thought maybe I could convince her to be with me.
But as she explains it, she feeds an understanding into my soul and
somehow I get her. She’s herself with James. As I am myself with
Cammy. I don’t put up a front or act different to please her. She
loves me for who I am. Something Emily has never done. Maybe
Emily’s not my soul mate. Maybe Cammy is. Or maybe they don’t even
exist.

Lowering onto my back I stare into the blue
sky. Emily’s beside me, probably immersed in her own thoughts as I
dive into mine. If Emily ever gave me what I wanted, would I feel
whole? Possibly. Would I give Cammy and our life together up? No.
Could I stop pursuing Emily and stick to just Cammy? Isn’t that
what I’ve been doing all along? Be with Cammy. I’ve never really
had Emily. Not really,
had
her. I love her, there is no
doubt and I can’t picture her anywhere but in my life. But giving
up my sex with Cammy to be with Emily and not feed the sick
sadistic man that lives at my very core, would be denying who I
really am. A man who Cammy loves, even with my many flaws.

Turning back over onto my side, I’ve made up
my mind. It might hurt and it might be hard and I’m not going to
say I’m going to always follow through. I’m not a saint for cryin’
out loud.

“Emily?”

“Yes?” She faintly whispers with a sob. Oh
shit, she’s been crying. I wish I had a solution to fix her pain.
Maybe this tour will give her some peace and ease her mind. She
really deserves it.

“I won’t try to be with you anymore. I
promise I’ll try. You don’t need me pressuring you as you are
trying to sort stuff out. And I’m very sorry for ever hurting you.
I know I’m a—as you so eloquently put it, ‘a big misogynistic
womanizing male whore,'” I chuckle and she does too. Good, we’re
getting somewhere.

We banter back and forth with small talk and
she admits she’s thankful for me letting her
breathe
, as she
put it. Our children stay asleep. It’s strange how many hours
newborns actually do sleep. Dylan and grandma and pa finish up
their giant castle right next to the shore and we all go back
inside. I feel sort of relieved. Not sure I can actually give her
what she needs, in way of leaving her alone. Because as much as I
know Cammy is right for me and I love her, I can’t deny the
magnetism I have toward my Short Stack. She’s addicting and no
matter who I end up with in the end, I will always love and I will
always be drawn her perfection. A perfection that is too good for
me or my anaconda or anyone else for that matter.

***

“Get undressed and bend over the pool table
when you’re done no” I command my dirty whore, who’s on her knees
in front of me where she belongs. I need to release my anger and my
stress and she’s the perfect woman to let it out on.

After the beach today and dinner tonight, I
stayed home when Emily rode with Davis to drop her parents off at
the airport. She came home and has been locked in her room with our
children listening to Mariah Carey’s god-awful ‘My all’ and the
ridiculously stupid N’sync song ‘I drive myself crazy thinking you’
on repeat for the past three hours. I tried to go in and talk to
her but she locked the door and told me to ‘Leave her the fuck
alone.’ And I’m sticking to my word, giving her
space
. Even
though it’s killing me.

Dylan went home with Davis tonight to hang
with him and his wife; he does this pretty often. He loves Davis
and I have a feeling Davis does it to help reassure James. They are
buddies, after all. So after my seriously infuriating brush off
with Emily I tried to sit in my bedroom. Bad idea, because I could
hear her off key singing all the way upstairs. Not that she’s
horrible, but she should leave the singing to me. The man who
actually gets paid to belt out a tune. And she should stop singing
the same two songs over and over and over as she cries. It’s not
been a fun night. To top it all off Eric still hates me and won’t
let me hold him more than a few minutes without wanting his mom and
Cammy can’t even get him to calm down most of the time. Jenna
vomited breast milk all over my black Guns N Roses shirt. I was
ready to scream and run away by the time Emily got back from taking
her parents to the airport. And when I told her what happened—well,
I didn’t tell her. I kind of flipped my lid because of the stress.
I don’t know how she does it. It just confirms how great she is
that she takes care of both babies on her own a lot of the time.
Anyhow, she didn’t comment on my rantings and brought the babies
into her room and locked the door. That’s when the music started
and I’ve been losing my mind ever since.

Washing my brain from tonight’s fuckups I
watch as Cammy bends over the pool table, legs spread and ready.
What a good little sub.