Floating (23 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Kellen

              I put the crinkled piece of paper on my bed and try for the millionth time to straighten it. It isn’t working, though. Giving up, I tuck it under my pillow and hope Dad doesn’t find it. I’m not hiding it. Not really. I just don’t want my dad to be more upset than he already is. I’m starting to think it might just be better if I show it to him.

He tries really hard to hide being so sad from everyone, even me. I can see it, though. His eyes are tired and he has big circles under them. Dad doesn’t smile as much anymore, either. Uncle Pipe told a pretty funny joke the other day. When all the guys were nearly crying because it was that funny, Dad just sat on the couch with a small grin.

Rolling over on to my back, I spread my arms out wide and do the same with my legs. I love living with my dad. His house is awesome. Most of the guys at the club are cool, too, especially Uncle Tank and Uncle Pipe. Kendall and Adelyn are really nice to me, and I love Kendall and Uncle Cage’s daughter, Lexi, lots and lots.

It took me a little while to get used to Lou. She’s crazy. Uncle Steel heard her telling me it’s only because she’s pregnant. He gave me wide eyes, shaking his head side to side, telling me no, it really wasn’t that. She is just nuts. I believe him, too. My favourite is Priss, though. At first I didn’t like to look her in the eyes. Uncle Tank caught me doing it one day and asked me why I wouldn’t look at her. I was really embarrassed, but Uncle Tank is easy to talk to, so I told him.

Priss is too pretty. She’s so pretty it makes my face go hot, my ears get red, and I look stupid, so I don’t look at her. Uncle Tank laughed harder than I’ve ever heard him laugh before. Then he winked at me, and said, “She sure is, little buddy. She sure is.” Uncle Tank left a few weeks later, for a long time. When he came back he was different. I think something bad happened to him because he is a lot angrier than he was before, and he won’t talk to Priss anymore, either. I try my best to cheer Priss up. She still smiles at me all the time. She smiles at Lexi, Anna, and baby Kane, too. It just doesn’t feel like a proper smile when she does, though.

School is okay, and I love football, but keeping this secret from Dad is making me tired. I can’t sleep properly; it’s getting harder to stay awake during class. Which means someone will tell my dad about it, soon enough. I have lots of secrets from Dad. I don’t why this one make me feel so different. The other ones, I don’t like to think about. They make me feel sick. I get headaches, my body shakes all over, and I cry too much. It’s probably best if I don’t ever tell him, like Mom said.

Mom’s been gone since before I had my operation. I don’t miss her. That sounds mean, doesn’t it? She isn’t a very good mom. I don’t think she’s a very good person, either. I hear some of the guys at the club talk, and they call her not nice names. I can’t repeat them or my dad will get pissed. I probably shouldn’t say that word either, but Dad doesn’t say anything to that one, so I figure it’s okay. My door creaks and look up to see my dad standing there.

“Hey, bud, what you up to?”

I don’t want to keep lying, but I haven’t figured out exactly how to bring it up.

“Ummm, nothing.”

He gives me that half smile thing again. “Try again, bud. You look guilty as hell.” I try to shrug it off, but he’s not buying it.

I think it’s time I show him because he’s right. It is making me feel guilty.

“I was reading, Dad. Can you come in for a sec?”

Sitting down on the edge of my bed, Dad puts a hand on my shoulder, and asks

“You okay, Son?” He looks worried. Better than he’s going to look in a minute, so I shouldn’t complain. Nodding, I reach under my pillow and pull out the letter. His face scrunches up a bit. “What’s this, Kellen?”

“It’s a letter, Dad.” I say it like I’d say, “duh.”

His eyes widen as he sees who’s writing it is.

“Where’d you get this, Kellen?” Dad’s angry, I can tell.

Not at me I don’t think, well, I hope not.

“Uncle Tank gave it to me at the hospital.” I hurry to tell him the rest before he loses his mind. “I wasn’t hiding it from you, Dad. I just didn’t want to upset you. You’re already sad enough.”

He mumbles, “Fuckin Tank,” under his breath when I shove him with my shoulder.

“You can read it, Dad. It’s to me, but I don’t think she’d mind. I think she’d like it if you did.” Giving me a one armed hug, he kisses the top of my head, and opens the crinkled up, worn yellow sheet of paper. I don’t really need to read it anymore. I know all the words by heart.

             
Dearest Kellen,

First, let me tell you I am so glad to have finally met you. I always wanted a nephew one day, and it looks like I got the best one going around. I’m so sorry I have to leave before getting to know you better. Trust me when I say, I wish I didn’t have to.

You won’t understand this now, maybe later, but leaving is something I had to do for me. It doesn’t make it any easier, or any better. I know that, and I’m sorry if in doing so I hurt you or your dad.

I need you to do me a couple of favours, if you can. It might be a lot to ask, but I know you can do it.

I need you to get better! Rest, take your medicine, eat your VEGETABLES, get lots of sleep, and do whatever your dad says, until you’re 100% again. You should probably do what your dad says, even after you’re better, but let’s take it one step at a time.

Before I ask you to do the next thing for me, I want to tell you, I love you. Round and round it never ends. No matter where I am, how far apart we are, know that and keep it close to your heart.

The second favour is a bit harder. Look after your dad.

Try to make him smile every day, remind him of the good things he’s got to look forward to. He’s a stubborn man, and he’ll probably fight it, but I know I can trust you to do your best.

Here’s a few things about your Dad that might help. He loves extra nuts, and topping on his sundaes. Pretend you want one, and get him to take you to Mo’s. He makes the best sundaes around. Your dad hates peanut butter; so if you can handle it, try just jelly instead. Your dad’s allergic to seafood. He gets spotty all over and itches for days, so don’t give him anything that has that in it. Music makes him smile. Every time. His favourites are; Pearl Jam, Smashing Pumpkins, Lincoln Park and, don’t tell him I said this, but he loves Mumford & Sons, too. Take him fishing, go for a swim when you can again, keep practicing your throwing, build something. Your dad is really talented when it comes to anything mechanical. Get him to show you his bike, what things are, and what they do. He’ll love it.

Lastly. Be a kid, Kellen.

I know you haven’t had an easy time of it, and for that I’m sorry. More sorry than you will ever know. You’re safe now. Your dad will NEVER let anything happen to you. Neither will any of the guys from the club. They’ll take care of you. Your only job is to have fun, learn everything you can, and trust that the people around you will make a beautiful life for you.

I’ll see you again one day, gorgeous boy. Take care of yourself and your dad, until I do.

xoxoxo Ronnie

Dad has tears running down his face after he finishes reading it. He’s not making any noise, but he’s crying a lot. Maybe I was wrong to show him. Grabbing me in a bear hug he squeezes me tight, proving me wrong. I hope this makes it better for him. It is the last thing I could think of to do. I tried everything else Ronnie suggested, and none of it worked. I was starting to give up. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to disappoint her. Or, have her think I can’t take care of Dad. He needs someone to look after him. Just like I need him to look after me. I wish Ronnie was here to do it instead.

Ronnie said she would see me again, one day. Well, one day isn’t soon enough. Dad needs her. I want her to come home. Dad wants her to come home. I know Kendall, Lou, Priss, and Tilly want her here, too. I think even Uncle Tank wants her back. I thought about asking him to find her. I don’t think he’ll do it, though. He’s loyal to Dad and will tell him what I was asking him to do. I don’t think it will go down well with Dad, at all.

Later, after Dad asks if he could take the letter with him for tonight, he promises he’ll give it back, so I tell him that is okay. I stare out my bedroom window. It is so dark that I can see almost every star in the sky.

Tonight I pray. I pray harder than I ever have before. I don’t ask for lots of things, like I used to. All ask for is if God can bring Ronnie back to us. That’s all. Just one thing. I hope God is listening, because I promise I won’t ask for anything else, ever again, if he does that.

I guess he was listening after all. Because the day before I turned nine Ronnie came home.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Nate

              Who knew a fucking nine-year-old’s birthday party would be this hard to plan? Not me, that’s for fucking sure, or I would never have agreed to this shit, in the first place. As it is, I’m not sure whether I should run screaming from what was my backyard, or hide until it’s all over.

Kellen let slip that he’s never had a proper birthday party about a week and a half ago. That’s fucked up enough by itself. What makes it exponentially worse is that he said it in front of Priss. She was horrified to say the least, and has taken it as a fucking challenge to rectify it. Within the span of three days, Priss has systematically organised every fucking guy in the club to do something in relation to the blow out party she’s planning for Kellen at my place. Mind you there is one exception to the manual labour force she’s assembled.

Tank.

It’s getting fucking ridiculous. Scratch that. It’s far past ridiculous already. It’s not Priss’s fault. She’s the injured party in all this, in my opinion. Tank needs to pull his head out of his ass. The tension radiating between them is so close to overload, that Pipe has started taking bets from the brothers whether Tank’s going to end up with a hell of a black eye, castrated junk, or dead when Priss finally flips her shit.

Regardless of the clusterfuck going on with them, my backyard looks like a fucking amusement park. It is an altogether separate clusterfuck. Priss has hired bouncy houses, four of the fuckers. The brothers are currently setting up long tables that seat ten. The folding chairs to go with them are stacked against the side of the house, but I have no doubt she’ll have them on to those next.

Kendall and Lou are helping to decorate tomorrow morning and are, at the moment, out with my boy so he can pick what party food he wants. Selena, Pipe’s woman is a fucking awesome baker, so Priss recruited her to do the cake and some other shit. I have no idea what. I have to be honest; I stopped listening after she finished reading out the first list. There are four in total that I know of. So do you blame me?

Apparently, there is a truck coming this afternoon with a fuck ton of hay bales, Priss is going to use to set up a mini paintball obstacle course. Paintball. In my fucking backyard. Yeah, you heard right. This shit is insane, but whatever makes Kellen happy, right? I’m not completely sold on the idea, even though Kellen thinks it’s, “wicked cool.” I don’t need parents rocking up to pick up their kids, only to find them covered in fucking paint, sporting bruises from the paint pellets, and losing their minds because I’m irresponsible enough to have allowed it. I gave in, though. What else could I do?

Most of the food is finger food, thankfully. It doesn’t need a lot of prep. I’ll throw some burgers on the grill as my contribution to the day; along with buying the cases of beer Priss sent me to get, in order to pay off the brothers helping.

My only concern is how the hell we’re going to corral thirty kids and manage to keep them all safe and injury free; especially with the fucking paintball set up. Not to mention how am I going to last, NOT wanting to drown one of the obnoxious little shits in a bucket, before the day is over. As I’m considering this, Tank walks up, joining me against the railing of my porch. Sighing, I turn my head to see him leaning in much the same position as I am.

Arms crossed in front of us, hunched over using the railing to hold us up I say,

“You know you’re a fucking asshole, right?” I can’t help it. It needs to be said, and at this point he’s just pissing me off with his shitty attitude.

Straightening he turns his back on the party set up beyond, and replies with a weary, “Yeah, I’m fully aware how much of an asshole I am. I’ve only been told five hundred fuckin times this week by every brother I’ve seen.”

No surprise there. All the brothers, at one time or another over the last few months, have voiced their opinion on Tank’s epic assholeness.

“So, if you know, then why the hell aren’t you doing anything to fix this shit? Jesus fucking Christ, man, it’s been months, and you’re still ignoring her, holding your dick. This shit isn’t going to end well, Brother, and it’s all on you when it implodes on your stupid ass.”

Agitation and fear are written all over him in equal measure. I get it. I really fucking do. He’s scared shitless he’s going to lose her, and he should be. Priss has suffered enough in her life. If Tank can’t pull himself together and work this out, he needs to leave her the hell alone. This isn’t doing either of them any good. “You don’t think I fuckin know that, too? Last thing I want is to see her hurt more than she already has been. Tilly’s been on my ass for weeks to fix this. Pipe threatened to fuckin kill me if I made her cry again. Shit, Arrow, I didn’t even know she’d been crying in the first place.”

I scoff at that. The man is fucking dense sometimes.

“Really. You wanna try again? You’re her best fucking friend. What did you think she was going to do when you cut her off without a word?”

Shaking his head sadly he drops it to study his boots.

“I don’t fuckin know, alright.”

That’s the most pussy answer the dude has ever given me. If he thinks I’m going to drop this with that explanation he’s got another thing coming.

“You’ve been in their lives for nearly five years, Tank. You spent time with her nearly every day for those five years, and you didn’t think it’d gut her when you took off for two months, and came back, only to shut her out completely? Jesus you’re a stupid motherfucker.” Clasping my hand on his shoulder I feel the tension there. There’s no hiding this is hurting him too, but it’s his shit to solve. “Something happened when you were gone.” He looks up and I signal for him to shut the fuck up. “I don’t need you to tell me what it was. Shit, Tank, it’s your business. You owe it to her to explain it, though. You don’t want anything to do with her afterward, that’s again your business, but she deserves an answer at least.” Leaving him to think on that, I round the front of the house and stop in my tracks.

My breath leaves my lungs in a rush. My heart immediately starts pounding in my chest. When I imagined the day I would see her again, I hadn’t planned on being struck dumb. In my dreams, I would run to her, fold her in my arms, hold her tight, and then spank the hell out of her perfect ass for running off and leaving me pining after her like a fucking woman. There are a few more additions to that dream. They are more firmly planted in the fantasy column, though. The thought of cupping her large firm tits in my hands, licking her perfect rose bud nipples, sliding my fingers through her dripping pussy, and pushing my throbbing cock into her, while she pulls my hair makes me hard as a fucking pike.

My eyes devour her. Starting from the tips of her wine coloured painted toenails, travelling the length of her gorgeous body. Savouring her. Committing her to memory as I go. Dressed in tiny, I think I can see the cheeks of her ass if she turns around, cut off denim shorts, a black and silver Sturgis Harley t-shirt, and flip flops, Ronnie looks like perfection, and she’s standing right here in front of me.

Halting on her face, I see the tears glistening in her eyes. It unglues me from my stupor, taking me only four long strides to reach her. When I do, I grab her face with both of my hands and kiss the ever-loving-shit out of her.

Without a second hesitation Ronnie wraps her arms around my neck tightly and kisses me back fiercely. She tastes like home. The mint from her toothpaste, mixed with a hint of coffee, and the flavour that’s so uniquely Ronnie has my cock trying to punch its way through the zipper of my jeans in five seconds flat. I never thought the day would come where I was able to have her in my arms again. Be able to feel her soft body pressing into mine. Have her hands sliding through my hair.

Dropping both hands to her ass, I give it a tight squeeze, boosting her up to wrap her legs around my waist. Which she does immediately. I know where I’m going without looking. So, I deepen the kiss plunging my tongue deep into the hot recesses of her mouth, letting out a deep moan when she twirls her tongue around mine. Turning, I make my way through the front door, down the hallway, and into my bedroom, kicking the door shut as soon as we clear the doorframe.

I’m sick of wasting time and taking this shit slowly with her. I have no idea what’s around the corner, and at this moment I don’t fucking care. Ronnie and I have lost too many years for me to focus on anything other than having her here in my arms, in my house, and as soon as I can get her there, in my bed.

Placing my hands under her arms, I literally throw her on to my king size bed, ripping my t-shirt over my head, and kicking off my boots and socks as I stalk toward her.

“Fuck but I missed you, Ronnie. You’re not going fucking anywhere ever again, Sunshine. It nearly killed me not knowing where you were or whether you were safe.”

Stripping out of her own shirt, her gorgeous tits fall free, barely contained by her blue lace bra. The spray of freckles over her chest and collarbone have me licking my lips. I want to trace every last one. Connect them with my tongue. Shimmying out of those hot ass shorts, my breathing becomes ragged as I see what she’s uncovered. Underneath she’s wearing the matching thong to her bra, and all I want to do is tear it off with my teeth. Even from here, I can see her beautiful pussy is bare, and the centre of her thong is wet with her desire for me.

Unbuckling my belt and flicking the top button of my jeans, I look up and see her leaning on her elbows watching me with uncensored hunger. Her eyes dance over her name tattooed on my chest, past my abs, following the line of hair down to my cock that’s already pushing past the top of my boxers trying to get to her.

“I missed you too, Nate. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” With that I strip off my remaining clothes, and I’m on her in a flash.

Like a wild animal in heat, my hands are everywhere all at once or at least they’re trying to be. I can’t get enough of her velvet soft skin, the way goose bumps appear on the path my hands have travelled, her curves that fill my hands moulding to my body. This woman was made for me.

Cursing the interference of her bra, I flick the front clasp open, and let her heavy tits fill my palms. Running my thumbs over her nipples, I watch them tighten into hard peaks. The areolas bunch, pressing further into my hands. Cutting off her moan with my mouth, I twist her nipples that are in desperate need of attention, between my thumb, and forefinger, causing her to arch her back pressing her body even more tightly to mine.

My cock is weeping. I can feel it. The stickiness on my skin is a dead giveaway. Knowing this isn’t going to last long if I have to hear her moan like that much longer, I push my tongue further into her mouth to silence her. Her taste. Her smell. Her everything, has my head swimming. I couldn’t be happier if I drowned in all that is Ronnie, right now.

Now it’s my turn to groan as I feel her tiny smooth hand wrap around the base of my cock and squeeze, exerting enough pressure to make my already sensitive cock head throb.

“Jesus. Fuck me, Ronnie. You touch me like that, and this is over real quick, Babe.” Humming against my tongue she squeezes again, harder this time, making me growl, and a drop of pre cum leaks out my tip. “You got a particular liking for that thong, Babe?”

I don’t really give a shit what the answer is, so before she can speak, I reach down tearing it off her body flinging it across the room to land, God knows where. I trace her slit with a single finger, gathering up her juices spreading them around her clit, which is hard and pulsing, peeking out of its hood.

Ronnie’s startled intake of breath is enough to let me know she’s turned on. If that weren’t enough, the fact she’s already dripping wet for me would be a good sign. I’ve never had a woman so responsive to my touch. It’s like watching a flower bloom; the way the lips of her pussy part, revealing the jewel that is her clit inside. Her thighs are damp with her arousal. I can’t wait until I have my head buried between her legs, lapping up all those sweet juices she’s creaming just for me. That’ll have to wait though. There is no way I’m going to be able to hold off long enough to eat her out, without coming all over my sheets like a horny teenager.

Rotating her hips she’s grinding into my hand, and I push a second finger into her pussy, stretching her to accommodate me. I don’t want to hurt her. She needs to be ready to take me hard and fast when I get inside her, because I won’t be holding back. I don’t think it’ll be possible even if I tried.

“Fuck you’re tight, Babe. Has it been a while?”

I probably shouldn’t ask. I have no idea why I do. I really don’t want to know the last man she’s had in her bed. Taken into her body. That shit will make me want to find the fucker and kill him for touching her. Rational? I think not. I never claimed to be. Is it realistic that I’d do that, though? Yes.