Objective (Bloodlines #2)(30)

“Hey! Back again so soon?” the pimply faced kid says as I set the bottle of bourbon on the counter.

“Yup,” I answer, thankful that I thought to snag my sunglasses before heading out. My eyes are a scary bloodshot mess.

“Well, have a great day!” the little shit sings as I toss cash at him and head out. There is nothing great about this day at all. I pull into my spot and jerk the car into park before it’s even stopped fully, making the contents of my purse spill onto the floor of the passenger seat as the car lurches.

“Shit,” I mumble. I rake the loose items back in, grab the bottle and head inside. I don't bother with a glass, or ice, I open the bottle and pull directly from it. It burns going down. The burn is familiar and comforting. I feel the warmth spread slowly throughout my limbs. I take another slug of the liquor and wait for the same warmth to come over me. I don’t set the bottle down until it’s half empty.

If a person’s heart could bleed, physically bleed, that’s what mine would be doing right now. The weight of the silence in my trailer is deafening. The weight of my guilt is crushing. I transfer it all to the hate side of me. I morph it all into rage and direct it at the cause, the root. I’ve taken numerous steps to protect myself long enough to get justice.





Chapter 11





“Death ends a life, not a relationship.”- Mitch Albom


“My parents think you’re leading me down the wrong path.” ‘Cypress, that boy’s the wrong kind of bliss, he’s born to be a leaver,’ my dad had shouted at me.

“I am, Mags. You shouldn't get involved with me,” he crowed.

“You didn't let me finish.. I just want the chance to find out on my own. I don't agree with them. They don't understand. You’re more than Ezra and the boys. You have a soul, Cane. I see it. Please, please don’t shut me out.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to live without you, Mags. Tell me what to do,” he begged.

“I’m only going to be thirty minutes away. It’s college, not the end of the world.”

“You’ll change. I won't be good enough anymore.”

“Never,” I said sternly. “God, Cane. I’m so nervous about you being here and me being there, please don't make this harder. I need to know that we can do this.”

“You want a promise?” he asked.

“I want...something. I want to know we’re something you intend to follow through,” I mumbled. He lifted me and walked into the bathroom, closing the door and setting me down. I glanced at the speaker and tub and whipped my head back to him.

“Cane...” my voice was breathy.

“Trust me.” I wondered if he could hear the strain in his voice like I could.

He turned the water on, letting the tub fill, and then lit the one candle in his bathroom that I made him buy. He plugged in his phone and started the playlist he had been making for me to bring to school when I leave. When the music was softly lilting in the background he reached for the hem of my dress and lifted slowly.

“Cane,” I put a hand on his to stop him. “I ah...I’m…nervous…” My voice was quiet and insecure.

“Mags, everything about you is beautiful. But, I promise, I won’t do anything you don't want me to.” He started moving his hands again. His fingers grazed my hips as he lifted my dress higher. I thought I’d be more nervous but I only felt beautiful. I raised my eyes to his and trailed my hands up his sides under his shirt. He pulled the dress over my head. A strangled sounding moan slipped from him. The look in his deep brown eyes was full of heat, so much that I think his zipper is going to undo itself from the strain in his jeans. He reached around my back and unclipped my bra, gently tugging it off, letting it drop to the floor. His breathing was shallow and labored but he kept his focus on my eyes. I moved my hands to his hips and tucked my thumbs inside the waistband of his jeans, before undoing them and slowly pushing them down. I started trembling then.

“Step out, baby,” he cooed. I looked down and stepped out of my underwear. He picked me up and, gently, set me down into the water, never tearing his eyes away from mine. “I wish I could tell you how much I love you, how much you mean to me." He nuzzled my cheek and continued down my neck, setting a fire across my skin, coals deep in my soul bursting into flames.

"Show me,” I whispered and moved my hands up to his shirt and started lifting it off of him.

My hands moved on his chest, his ribs, his belly and sides as my lips moved to his jaw, then neck, throat, collarbone and down. Everywhere I touched and tasted his muscles jumped. He crawled into the water with me. The warm water moving around and over us only added to the sensations. I went down, tracing the ridges of his abs with my tongue. He growled. I felt bold with him. Adventurous. His fingers flexed at my neck and that sent a shot of heat right between my legs. His lips met mine and claimed me. I was his. Always. Never breaking our kiss, he moved us from the tub to the bedroom.

Taking a deep breath I trailed my tongue along the line of muscle that curved from his hip to his groin. The hand at my neck disappeared and I was suddenly being pulled up his body. He brought me up so I’m straddling him. He kissed me while holding me tight to him. His erection was between my legs and in that moment, there was nothing else I wanted or needed. My hips ground down on him. Cane’s hands came to my sides, one hand coming to my breast, lifting it slightly. I broke away from the kiss and looked down to see him taking it to his mouth. His lips closed around the nipple and he sucked, hard. My hips bucked in his lap which caused him to growl against my nipple. I whimpered from the sensations rolling through me. His mouth left my breast and he picked me up and laid me back on the bed. Looming over me, trailing a calloused hand on me from my shoulder to my waist, I shivered. He ran his hand over my hip and in between my legs.