“Yeah, girl,” I whisper hoarsely. “I want it more than you could ever know.”
More than drugs.
More than power.
More than anything.
Cradling the back of my head, she leans down and brushes her lips against mine. I move my hands to her hips. My fingers bite deeply into her smooth skin as I take advantage of the position and flip her onto her back. She squeals and I finally pull out of her but keep myself firmly planted between her legs. Breaking the kiss, I lean back and stare at her beautiful face. Almond shaped eyes that are equally magnetic and compelling as they are mysterious, shine with unspeakable joy and a faint blush accentuates her high, exotic cheekbones that are kissed by long dark eyelashes. Her perfectly straight and dainty nose rests above a tempting mouth and completes the perfect package that is Lace.
I think about the first night I saw her.
Really fucking saw her.
The night she became mine and not just Jack’s daughter.
Oh, I didn’t mention that? Yeah, I’m that guy. I crossed that line. I robbed the fucking cradle and snatched my best friend’s daughter right from under his nose and I’m not sorry for it either. Given the chance, I’d do it all over again, no questions asked. The only thing I’d change is the way I took her virginity. If I got a rewrite at that, I wouldn’t have been high when I threw her up on my desk and fucked her that first time. She was hurting, looking for someone to comfort her on the anniversary of her brother’s death and I was looking to fucking inflict pain on myself. I still remember the shame I felt when I stared at my dick and found it coated with her innocence. Not a fine moment for a self-loathing motherfucker like me.
Back then, I didn’t know she was suffering in silence, that she had the same mental illness as her father. All the signs were there, I was just too fucked up to notice them.
The temporary highs and forced smiles.
The desperate lows and her sad eyes.
They were all right in front of me, staring me in the face, begging me to acknowledge their existence.
Maybe if I had realized sooner, I would’ve been able to prevent some of the hurt she endured. I like to think I would’ve encouraged her to get help sooner, that I would’ve been able to ease her depression. Instead, loving me forced her to delve deeper into the darkness and after I was arrested, she suffered a mental breakdown, proving I was just as lethal as the poison I shot into my veins.
These days, Lithium is her crutch. And me, I’m the guy who dances in the dark with her. I couldn’t shield her from shit high but, sober I sure as fuck can. While I’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy; battle my demons, push away my doubts and ignore my fears to give her a child, I won’t compromise her mental health.
“What about your illness?” I ask.
“What about it?” she volleys. The smile drops from her face and I quickly lift my hand to her cheek, forcing her eyes back to mine.
“Look at me,” I demand softly. Guard up, her features cloud with unease. “I want to watch your belly grow with our child. I want to hold your hand as you bring him or her into the world and fuck, I want to hold that life in my hands and fall in love but not at your expense. Never at your expense.”
“I wouldn’t be the first manic depressive to carry a baby, Blackie,” she snaps, hostily. “Why don’t you say what’s really on your mind? You’re scared I’ll pass on the crazy gene to our child.”
Anger slices through me as I move both hands to her shoulders. Gripping them, I struggle not to dig my fingers into her flesh and shake sense into her.
“That’s fucking bullshit and you know it,” I hiss, my nostrils flaring. “Told you a long time ago, when we first got engaged, if we had kids and one of them wound up being ill, we’ll handle it. Just like we’ll handle it if we have a kid who turns out to be an addict like me.”
Her face softens as I push off her. Tearing my eyes away, I toss my legs over the edge of the bed and drop my head into my hands.
“We’re fucked, Lace,” I continue. “A fucking cocktail for disaster is what we are.”
“That’s not true,” she cries.
Dropping my hands from my face, I turn to her and shake the hair away from my eyes. Peering back at her, I lift an eyebrow.
“Isn’t it though?” I challenge as she sits up and leans her back against the headboard. Reaching for her, I lay a hand on her knee and give it a squeeze. “Knowing it and accepting it, I still want to make a family with you, Lacey, because as damaged as we are, we got a love stronger than our demons. A love that, when all is said and done, beats every obstacle its ever faced. A love that’s no match for your maker or my addictions.”
“You mean that?” she whispers, closing her hand over mine. The tense lines of her face relax as she waits on bated breath for me to affirm everything I’ve just said.
“Of course, I mean it,” I say roughly. “We’ve got a lot of love to give a baby, Lace.”
“I’ll make an appointment with my therapist,” she asserts. “I’ll tell her we’re trying for a baby and see what she says…if she has any advice or suggestions. We won’t go into this blind.”
I nod and lace our hands together before pulling her towards me.
“And I’ll call my sponsor,” I add, bending my head to kiss the tip of her nose. “Whatever it takes, Lace.”
“Whatever it takes,” she agrees, wrapping her arms around my middle. Angling her head, she peers up at me and gives me a small smile.
“I can’t wait to see you hold our baby for the first time.”
“Ditto, girl,” I murmur, pulling her onto my lap. The feel of her warm body against mine entices my dick, and it stirs to life. “The sooner I get you pregnant, the sooner the dream becomes a reality.”
“What’re you saying?” she questions.
Straddling my thighs, she winds her arms around my neck and rubs her slick pussy over my cock. My hands travel up her curves, finding her breasts. Squeezing them, I rub my thumbs over her pebbled nipples. A smile ticks the corner of my mouth as she touches her forehead to mine.
“I’m saying we should get to work, girl,” I reply.
“Fine,” she teases, rubbing the tip of her nose against mine. “But this time you’re doing all the work.”
Releasing a chuckle, I grab her hips and flip her onto her back. I push her legs apart, spreading them wide and as I crawl between them, I drop kisses on the insides of her thighs and over her stomach. I kiss her tits, her neck and finally her mouth.
With our demons at our backs and love staring us in the face, I push inside my wife. Together we run from hell and chase heaven. When I come inside her, she wishes for a baby and I pray I’m enough of a man to hold us together as we dive off the cliff.
Chapter Two
Blackie
I woke up drenched in sweat, the nightmare vividly assaulting my memory. Only it wasn’t really a nightmare. It was my subconscious reminding me of my fucking sins. Careful not to wake Lacey, I pushed the sheets off me and swung my legs over the side. As my feet touched the floor, my head dropped into my hands and I tried to tune out the sound of Vladimir Yankovich’s voice, but the dead have a way of haunting you. Especially when you’re the reaper who pried his black soul from his body and delivered it to Satan.