Creed

Chapter Twenty-Three You Can’t See It

Present day, six days later…

They had him chained to the floor, cheek to the cement, tape on his upper and lower eyelids, stuck to his lashes, holding his eyes open.

So Creed saw her when they pushed her down and chained her to the floor six feet away.

At first glance, he thought she was me. Same hair. Same build. Same face shape. Even the same colored eyes.

She wasn’t me.

Daddy held his head down so Creed couldn’t even turn it. The tape held his eyes open so he couldn’t shut the visions away. There was no way he could close out the screams.

No.

He had to watch.

Watch as they ripped her clothes away.

Watch as, for hours, repeatedly, brutally, they raped her.

Watch as she fought the chains, strained, shrieked, begged.

Watch as the blood flowed from between her legs, where the chains gouged into her wrists, her neck, her ankles.

Watch as the fight left her, the light died in her eyes and she lay, her head turned, her gaze locked to Creed’s as they kept at her for hours, one after the other and then back again.

Five of them.

Then they were done.

“You know,” Daddy whispered into Creed’s ear, “you take her, you think to escape me, you know I’ll find you.”

He knew. Daddy had a lot of money. Daddy had a long reach.

Daddy kept talking.

“I’ve tried to talk sense into you but it’s come to this. You’ve already sullied her, taking her virginity. You take her, Tucker, I’ll find you. I’ll bring you both back. You take her, she’ll mean nothing to me. If you take her, I’ll bring you back and I’ll make you watch like you did just now as they do the same to Sylvie. But she’ll be safe if you leave her be.”

This time, Creed didn’t say, “never”.

His eyes forced open, his head still held down, he had no choice but to stare into the girl’s eyes. The girl, so young, maybe seventeen, maybe even sixteen, my hair, my body, bloodied, bruised, violated, the light in her eyes extinguished.

So like me.

So very like me.

He knew, if Daddy would do that to her, he’d do it to me.

Creed’s voice came, weak, raspy, “Promise me.”

Daddy’s hand left his head but she didn’t look away so Creed, now free to move his head, didn’t either. He gave her his gaze, the only thing he had to give, the only thing he had to offer her as even a scrap of comfort as she endured a nightmare.

“Promise?” Daddy asked.

Creed stared at the girl who was almost me.

“She’ll be happy.”

Quickly, Daddy declared, “I promise, Tucker, she’ll be happy.”

“Swear it.”

“You leave, never come back, never phone, never try to see her, I swear. She’ll be happy. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she’s happy. You come back, phone, ever, ever try to contact her again, she’ll be lying there as that girl is and you’ll be lying right where you are, watching.”

“Just make her happy.”

“I’ll make her happy.”

Creed stared into the girl’s eyes and watched the fresh tear roll over the bridge of her nose, drop and mingle with the blood on the cement by her face.

So me.

So very me.

“Then I’ll leave.”

I shot up in the bed and, not thinking, my skin prickling, cold sweat trickling between my breasts, I jumped to my feet and for some reason hurdled over Creed’s body. My feet landed on the other side of the bed and I bounded to the floor. My foot lifting to run, flee, escape like that girl sixteen years ago was me and I had the chance, one shot, to get away before they destroyed me.

Creed’s arm hooked my waist and I flew backwards, landing in the bed and Creed rolled over me.

“It’s a dream, Sylvie. Just a dream,” he said what he’d said over and over again when I woke up after a dream assaulted me.

“I know those men. I know those men,” I panted, my breath coming fast, sharp, heavy, hurting as it tore up my throat and out of me. “I know them… knew them. Served them beer. Nachos. I knew those men, Creed.”

“Beautiful, what are you –?”

“The men, Richard’s men, those men who Daddy forced you to watch raping that girl who looked like me.”

“Fuck,” he clipped then bit out, “You’re dreaming that shit.”

My hands drove into either side of his hair and held tight. “I knew them. I brought them beers while they watched games on Richard’s huge ass TV.”

“They’re out of your life, Sylvie.”

“I knew them.”

“Baby, they’re gone.”

“I knew them!” I shrieked, Creed stilled then he rolled, sitting up, forcing me to straddle him but his arms clamped tight around me.

“Calm down, Sylvie,” he ordered firmly.

“I can’t, Creed.”

“You gotta try, baby.”

“I can’t, Creed. It’s hideous.”

I stopped speaking, shook my head and struggled in his lap. I had too much energy. I had to move. Pace. Run. Sprint. Stand up and scream.

Creed held firm and wouldn’t let me, so I gave up and kept talking.

“I can’t believe they did that. I can’t believe they taped your eyes open and made you watch. I can’t believe they found someone who looked like me and hurt her like that. Just because she was unlucky enough to look like me and they needed to make a point, hurt her in a way she’d never get over. Alter her life forever and you didn’t even know who she was. They probably didn’t know who she was!”

“I know who she was.”

That made me go still.

“You knew her?” I asked quietly.

“Not then,” he answered. “After. When I got into the business. When I had the resources. A few years later, I tracked her. She was from a county over. She was the girl in the picture with Dixon who I was too fucked up to note really wasn’t you.”

“Is she okay?”

Creed didn’t answer.

“Is she okay, Creed?”

Swiftly, like pulling off a Band-Aid, he gave it to me.

“She committed suicide two days after they released her and me.”

I closed my eyes and, not able to hold it up, my head fell forward and slammed into his collarbone.

“Maybe the best thing for her, baby,” he whispered. “She went home.”

“You don’t believe that,” I replied.

Creed said nothing.

I was right. He didn’t believe that. He was just spouting that shit to make me feel better.

“God, if they weren’t dead, I’d kill them,” I told his collarbone then lifted my head. “Or, in Richard’s case, I’d kill him again. Though this time, I’d find a better way to do it.”

“When you told me what went down, Sylvie, and while you were deciding whether or not to listen to me, got a buddy who has a buddy back home. I made a call and he made a call and his buddy looked into that shit. You hit Scott’s jugular. Report says he bled out in minutes. Seems you found the best way to do it.”

“Right then, I’ll amend. If I knew he was even more of a heartless sociopath than I already knew he was, I would have made it last a whole lot longer.”

“Baby, I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. It’s over and you keep dreamin’ this shit so you need to see somebody.”

“I’ll call someone.”

“Yeah? When?” he shot back. “We been back here two weeks and you haven’t called anyone.”

“It’s been a little busy and the kids come up today. Not to mention, soon, I’m moving so why start now when I’ll have to find someone in Phoenix?”

“So you won’t wake up in a cold sweat and leap over me, runnin’ to God knows where to do whacked shit that freaks me way the fuck out.”

He had a point.

“I haven’t had a dream in days. Maybe they’re waning,” I suggested.

“He tied you down. He took you repeatedly,” Creed returned. “He violated you in ways you didn’t want. He controlled you. Sylvie, I am no psychologist and you got a heart of gold. You don’t know that girl, you weren’t there, it was nearly two decades ago and she is very dead but I still know you feel for her but this isn’t about her. This is about you. This is about you learning I watched that happen to her and then I learned that pretty much the same thing happened to you for six fuckin’ years. You givin’ me that shit and remembering it happened to you, both are fuckin’ with your head. I do not have the tools to sort that. You have got to find the tools to sort that. People in counseling move all the time. Psychologists know the drill. They start therapy and they transfer you to a new doctor but you gotta start therapy, Sylvie. You gotta work this shit out. For you. For me. For the family we’re making. For Charlene. For Adam. For everybody.”

Fuck it all, I hated it when he was right and it happened a lot.

So I did the only thing I could do.

I snapped my, “Okay.”

“That okay is an okay as in, you call to-fuckin’-day. I’m standin’ over you, Sylvie. Clock strikes nine in the morning, you’re on the goddamned phone finding a therapist you think you can work with.”

“Fine,” I bit out.

“Don’t think I’m joking.”

I didn’t think that. His tone told me he absolutely was not.

“I said fine,” I clipped.

“Jesus, this shit makes me wonder if I should have just let you think I left you.”

My blood turned cold.

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s haunting you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s bringing it all back. You had it under control. Now it’s in your face.”

“Don’t say that!” I shouted, jerked away, breaking free from his arms. Jumping to the side of the bed only to lean forward and point at him. “If you didn’t tell me, I’d never have let you back in.”

“Come back to bed, Sylvie.”

I swung my arm out. “You didn’t tell me, we wouldn’t have this.”

He leaned toward me, his tone cautious, and he ordered gently, “Baby, come back to bed.

I ignored him and carried on, this time my voice hoarse, beginning to grate, sounding like it would break, “You didn’t tell me, I wouldn’t have you.”

“Sylvie, come back to me.”

My voice was abrasive when I declared, “I’ll take nightmares every night for the rest of my fucking life if it comes with waking up to you.”

He reached out a hand, caught mine but I leaned back, putting my weight into tearing free.

I couldn’t because Creed held tight.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I said that, beautiful. I should never have said that.”

“I watched you in my rearview mirror,” I told him.

He pulled on my hand and his voice was gruff when he pleaded, “Baby, fuckin’ please, come back to bed.”

“I was so happy.”

“Jesus, Sylvie.”

“I sat on that pier for hours the next day. It was so hot, the Snickers bars melted in their wrappers. I got sunburn.”

His hand tugged at mine and his voice was harsh when he said, “Fuck me, Sylvie, please, come back to bed.”

“I looked everywhere. I couldn’t find you.”

“Fuck.”

“Days, I looked and I couldn’t find you.”

“Baby, please.”

My voice broke on my repeated, “I couldn’t find you,” and Creed was done.

I knew this because he yanked on my arm and I went flying to him. Then I was in his arms in bed, tucked mostly under him, one of his hands cupping the back of my head, pressing it into his throat, both arms holding me tight.

“I couldn’t find you,” I whispered into his skin.

“I’m here.”

“You always protected me.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” he murmured into the top of my hair.

“When Daddy gave me to him, I knew you’d come back and take me away. Take care of me.”

“Fuck, Sylvie.”

“You didn’t come back.”

Creed said nothing.

I lay in his arms and it hit me what I was saying and what it must sound like.

“I don’t blame you,” I told him quickly.

Creed said nothing.

“After that, what they did to that girl, I would have done the same thing,” I declared.

Creed said nothing.

“You did what you thought was right. You couldn’t know. We didn’t know Daddy was hooked on blow. Hooked so bad, in so deep, he had to pay Richard off with me.”

Creed said nothing.

“Creed.”

Creed rolled over me and by the time I turned in bed I heard what I suspected was the lamp from my nightstand crash against the wall.

Then I heard his roar, “Fuck me!” and I shot out of bed, pressed myself to his back and circled his middle with my arms.

I pressed my face into his skin, into my tat. “Sorry, baby, sorry, so, so, sorry. I should have shut up. I shouldn’t have kept talking.”

He twisted in my arms and his big hands cupped either side of my head, jerking it back with only a modicum of gentleness and his shadowed face was all I could see.

“You work that shit out, Sylvie, you work it out and you do it with me,” he growled.

“Okay.” I thought it best to agree immediately.

“You give me everything you got, I’ll deal.”

“Okay,” I agreed again, immediately.

“They took a month from me. They took six years from you. I’ll deal.”

“Okay.”

He used his hands on my head to yank me forward and I did a forced face plant in his chest before his arms wrapped around my head.

When I felt his chest expand with a huge breath then release I felt it safe to note, “They took a month from you, six years from me but they took sixteen years from us.”

“Yeah. And we’ll both deal with that shit by me makin’ love to you, planting my baby inside you and both of us, when we make more, all of us livin’ free, easy and happy for the rest of our lives, exactly how they did not want us to be.”

It was easy to agree to that one.

“Okay.”

Creed didn’t let me go and I let him hold me.

This went on awhile. So long I decided to move things on.

“Uh… Creed?”

“Right here, Sylvie.”

“This might not be the time but I’m thinking at least three kids, maybe four.”

His body turned to stone.

“Okay, three,” I said hurriedly.

Creed said nothing.

“Right, then, two. But, warning, I’m sticking on two.”

Creed still said nothing.

“Though, if it’s two boys, we have to go for a girl…” I paused, “and, uh, vice versa.”

Creed stayed silent but started walking me backwards to the bed. We weren’t too far so we went down in two steps, me on my back, Creed on top of me.

After we bounced twice and settled, Creed spoke.

“You want four kids, we best get to work, baby.”

I grinned.

There it was. Creed made it all better.

Unfortunately, he went on, “We stop at three, you get to an age where four isn’t healthy.”

Seriously?

“I’m not old, Creed.”

“Gotta have two years in between.”

“Is that a rule?”

“Yes.”

Seriously. Sometimes a bossy badass was annoying.

“Creed –”

His head was descending and I stopped talking when it froze in its descent for a moment before he dipped his chin and looked at me through the dark.

“It’s two oh five,” he announced weirdly.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s two oh five, baby.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, not understanding the information he seemed intent on imparting on me. Or, more to the point, not understanding why he seemed intent on imparting this information on me.

His lips came to mine. “You’re a minute into your thirty-fifth birthday.”

Oh. Yeah.

Right on!

“Yippee,” I whispered against his lips. I was pretty sure he was going to kiss me but he rolled, got on his ass, did something in the dark by the nightstand then he came back to me.

His hand trailed down my arm, found my wrist, lifted it and turned it so my hand was palm up.

I felt a box set in it.

“My girl’s green,” Creed murmured.

Oh shit.

Oh crap.

Oh fuck.

I had this back too.

Not that I forgot it, just that I had it back.

I had it back.

Finally.

Tears clogged my throat and through them, I pushed out a weak, “Creed.”

“Open it, Sylvie.”

I sucked in breath and started to shift up. Creed moved to my side, I got up on my ass and, in the dark, I opened it. I didn’t even look at it, not that I could see it if I tried. I just pulled it out, tossed the box aside and my fingers slid along the chain until I found the clasp.

“Will you lift my hair, baby?” I muttered and Creed moved to do as I asked.

When he shoved a hand under and lifted the mass up, I clasped the necklace on and felt its cold settle next to the one I was already wearing.

My eyes went to him. “Love it.”

My hair tumbled down, I felt his hand cup my jaw and there was a smile in his voice when he remarked, “You can’t see it.”

“Don’t care. Still love it.”

For a moment, yet again, Creed said nothing.

Then he said something, he just didn’t use words.

He moved into me, covered me and used body language.

Magnificently.

Thus my thirty-fifth birthday, unlike any of the thirty-four before, except one, started perfectly.

This was it.

The life.

It was evening. I lay on my back in my backyard, elbows in the turf, bare feet crossed, gut filled with Creed’s homemade, shredded chicken barbeque sandwiches, store bought macaroni salad and Charlene’s birthday cake. I was watching Brand and Kara play with Adam and Leslie. Creed was lying in the grass twenty feet away letting Theo use him as a jungle gym while Charlene was in my kitchen. She had put her foot down declaring I was not allowed to do the dishes on my birthday (not that I would, they could wait a day or three) so she was doing them.

I lounged thinking that I loved this. I only ever had a hint of this feeling, spending time with Creed and his kids in Phoenix, but I got it.

This was what family felt like.

This was what friends and family felt like.

This was what it felt like to be surrounded by people you loved who loved you (mostly, Kara and Brand probably weren’t there yet but I hoped they someday would be).

Outside of having Creed, this was the best feeling in the world.

And when he and I made our babies and Kara and Brand got to know me, it would only get better.

I’d had eleven great birthdays, the ones I spent with Creed growing up.

Those were great, but this one was better.

Further, it was official. Creed’s kids were good kids. Maybe Creed gave them a head’s up and some instruction but they didn’t even blink when they met Adam. They also didn’t treat him any differently.

Kara, especially.

I was surprised, considering her age, but she seemed to have a natural ability both to look out for Adam without making it seem like she was while at the same time she included him.

It was pretty awesome.

It had been Creed’s idea to bring the kids up to Denver. He said it would be a before going back to school mini-vacation for them because they’d never been here before. We were going to Elitch Gardens amusement park the next day and the Butterfly Pavilions on Sunday before he had to put them back on a plane.

He said that he also wanted to them to come up because even kids absorb things, witnessing people in their element and meeting the people who meant something to them. So it would be an opportunity for them to get to know me better.

It was my decree that they were staying in a hotel. Firstly, my second bedroom was still a pit and I hadn’t had the chance to clean it out. I also thought it was way too soon to introduce them to the kind of intimacy Creed and I sleeping together would communicate.

Creed agreed but only with the stipulation that I join him in his room (he and the kids had adjoining rooms) when he called to tell me they were asleep.

But the whole weekend, outside of the nights, would be spent together.

I was looking forward to it. Not only because I fucking loved roller coasters and they had tarantulas you could hold at the Butterfly Pavilion and tarantulas weighed about an ounce, they were furry, cool and I thought they were the shit. But also because I got a birthday weekend like I’d never had before.

Filled with family.

I heard dishes clanking in the kitchen while I watched Creed roll to his back, grab Theo and toss him in air repeatedly, making Theo giggle. I hoped like all hell all the unprotected sex we were having meant I’d soon see him again doing just that.

But with our baby.

I was so focused on this, when Brand threw himself into the grass beside me, my body jerked and my head whipped around.

“Hide and seek is for babies,” he declared and my gaze moved into the yard to see, with difficulty but also patience, Kara organizing the game with Adam and Leslie.

“I don’t know,” I replied to Brand. “Seems like it’d be fun to me.”

He grinned at me. “A squirt gun fight would be fun.”

I grinned back. “Yeah,” I agreed. “Little too late for that, though. Charlene and the kids’ll be heading home soon.”

He looked into the yard. “Bummer.” Then his eyes came back to me and he suggested, “We could do it when they leave.”

“I don’t have any squirt guns,” I informed him, making a mental note to put that on my shopping list and stock up.

“Does Denver have stores?” he asked cheekily.

“Uh… yeah,” I answered.

“Then I get to ride with you in your ‘Vette when we go get ‘em.”

My grin became a smile. “It’s a plan.”

He looked back at the yard and stated, “It’ll be so cool when you move in with Dad and we move in with you guys. Squirt gun fights all the time.”

I stared at his profile, forgetting how to breathe.

I forced myself to remember and asked a wheezy, “What?”

He looked back at me with another grin. “Kara says you’re gonna move in and when you do, we’re gonna move to Dad’s. He has a better pool and he likes football, so we can watch it on the big screen. Not like at home where Mom makes me and Van watch it outside on the smaller TV.” He paused then finished, “Oh, and you have a ‘Vette which is way cooler than any of Dad’s or Mom’s or Van’s cars.”

I blinked at him before I cautiously asked, “You’re, uh… moving in with your Dad?”

He nodded and looked back at the yard. “Yup. Kara says you’re Sylvie and we know what that means.”

Holy shit!

“What does that, um… mean?” I asked and his eyes came to me.

“You’re on Dad’s back.”

God, Creed was right. His kids were far from dumb.

“Brand –” I started but he interrupted me, not that I knew what I was going to say.

“Kara says you’re, like, the one. She says Dad’s been waitin’ for you to come back for, like, ever. She says that now you’re back, Dad will be happy and he’ll want us all together. She says Mom couldn’t hold onto him because she wasn’t you. Now he has you and we can be a family again. Least that’s what Kara says.”

He looked back to the yard as I mentally scrambled to figure out what to say, what to do at the same time sending vibes to Creed in an effort to get him to come over and rescue me from this crazy, landmine filled conversation.

Even as I scrambled, Brand, being Brand, kept talking and when he did, he gave me the remaining puzzle pieces as to why Kara and her Mom didn’t get on and why Kara attached herself to his hip when she was around Creed.

“Kara says Dad’s the best guy on earth and I agree. Totally. Only the best girl for the best guy, she says. She says she wasn’t surprised when she met you because you’re like Dad, cool and pretty but fun.” He shot another grin at me. “Dad can be kinda strict.”

“Uh…” I mumbled.

Brand kept talking.

“Mom’s cool too, I think. Kara and her, though…” he shrugged and looked away. “I like Van but Kara says he’s no Dad. He isn’t but he’s okay. I like him but I think he tries too hard with Kara and that’s kinda lame. I mean, he should be with her like he is with me, you know, natural-like.” He shook his head. “But he isn’t.”

Van, obviously Chelle’s husband, wasn’t with Kara like he was with Brand, I suspected, because Brand liked him and he didn’t have to try.

Brand continued blabbing.

“Kara says a woman like Mom gets a man like Van and a woman like you catches the eye of a man like Dad. She says it’s going to be totally awesome when we move in with you guys because we’ll be cool just like you. I love her but Mom and Van aren’t cool. Mom and Van are, like, totally normal.”

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Brand wasn’t done.

“Kara blames Mom for Dad leaving. She always did, you know. I didn’t get it but after we met you and she explained it, I did. Mom couldn’t hold him because Mom wasn’t you. I miss him but Kara, she like, really misses him. She’s a pain but she’s my sister and it kinda hurts to watch.”

And there it was.

Kara blamed Chelle for Creed leaving.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit!

“She’s a whole lot better now,” Brand finished.

Shit.

Well, I guessed I couldn’t ease my way into being a part of the family. Not with these people. They were sucking me into the big stuff right away. All of them.

Crap.

“Brand,” I called.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Look at me, would you?”

He looked at me.

I took in a breath.

Then I laid it out.

“I gotta tell you, straight out, that I gotta talk to your Dad about what you just told me.”

His head tipped to the side. “Why?”

“’Cause I’m not real sure how you and Kara think it’s gonna go is how it’s gonna go.”

He looked a little confused and a little scared as he studied me. “Are you and Dad not, like, hooked up? I mean, are you not the Sylvie from his back? Before we met you, he told us your name and he told us that he’d known you from a long time ago, so we just figured you were that Sylvie.”

Shit!

“We are hooked up,” I said quietly. “Very. And I am that Sylvie. It’s just that I need to tell him what you and Kara expect for your future. Or, maybe, if you feel up to it, you both should talk to him about it. That would actually be better.”

The confusion left, the fear escalated and I knew I was not handling this well at all.

God, should I call Creed over?

“Does Dad not want us to live with him?” Brand asked.

I so totally should call Creed over but I couldn’t since I figured the priority was dealing with Brand’s escalating fear immediately.

“He does,” I answered. “Definitely. He misses you kids. He talks about you lots. He loves you to bits. But, it’s just –”

“Do you not want us to live with him?”

God!

What the fuck should I do?

Crap. I had to do what I always did.

Give it to him honestly.

“Yes,” I stated. “In a perfect world, yes. I think you kids are the business. You’re funny and smart and if I get some practice in, I am so getting my fair share of the pizzookie.”

That got me a small grin, I took heart in that so I kept going.

“So if you were around, I’d have lots of practice. But I’ve also met your Mom and I liked her a lot. She’s awesome. She still cares about your Dad and she totally loves both of you. For your Dad to have you, that would mean her losing you. It sucks, babe, you’re young and this is heavy stuff. My Mom and Dad were divorced and it’s not fun, sharing time, wanting both, only getting one at a time.”

Okay, part of that was a lie but I had to roll with it, so I kept doing that.

“And, for a while, until you’re old enough to do it for yourselves, your Dad and Mom have got to decide what’s best for you. I’m here to listen and happy to do it but they make the decisions. You just gotta tell them where you’re head is at and I don’t just mean you. Kara too. Your Dad has told me she and your Mom kinda don’t get along and it worries your Dad and probably really worries your Mom. She should know what’s up with Kara so she and your sister can work that out. You with me?”

“I think so,” Brand replied.

I nodded. “So, you do what you want but I suggest you talk to your Dad about all this. I don’t want to burst your bubble but it’s the right thing to do. That said, sorry if it freaks you out, babe, but I’ll be telling your Dad about this. Sometimes we’re gonna have just you and me talks. Hopefully, I’ll get the same with Kara. But sometimes, if it’s really important, like this, I’ll have to make the decision to tell your Dad and I hope you trust me to do right by you when I do.”

His mouth moved around and he looked at the yard. I looked too and saw that Creed totally missed my vibe and was now, with Theo on his shoulders, playing hide and seek with Adam, Kara and Leslie.

Shit.

When I got nothing back from Brand, I looked at him and asked, “Brand, you okay?”

“I think I’ll talk to him.”

Like his Dad, something weighed heavy on his mind, he went silent in order to think about it.

And he just proved he was a smart kid and brave.

Thank God.

“You think I should talk to him just me and him or do you think Kara should be with us?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know you guys enough to know how to answer that,” I replied honestly. “What do you think?”

“She might clam up if she’s there. She might get mad if I talk to Dad behind her back.”

“Then there’s your answer.”

He looked at me. “What?”

“If she makes the decision not to participate in the discussion, it’s her decision to make. But you should try not to make anyone mad and if you know it might happen, you should avoid doing what you’re gonna do to make them mad. There are times, but it’s rare, when it’s okay to talk behind someone’s back or break a confidence. This, just my opinion,” I shrugged, “is not one of those times.”

“I’ll talk to him when she’s there,” Brand decided.

“Good call,” I muttered.

We fell silent.

Theo’s giggle pierced the air.

“You’re really, pretty, totally cool, Sylvie,” Brand whispered into the silence.

Okay, good.

No, fucking great.

I survived that minefield.

Fucking awesome.

“You’re really, pretty, totally cool too, Brand,” I replied.

“Awesome,” he kept whispering.

I grinned.

Adam found Creed and Theo, not hard since Theo was making so much noise, and it was Adam’s turn to giggle.

Yes, this was it.

The life.

My grin turned into a smile.

Creed stifled the groan of his orgasm in my neck.

I held on with all four limbs as he did and I kept holding on as he stayed seated inside me and came down.

When his breathing started to even out, I whispered, “Right, I seriously liked it, in a big way, but what was that?”

It was late. A lot later than I expected to be in Creed’s bed, in his hotel room with Creed. It was also hours later than I expected to get his call and I didn’t expect his call to include him saying, “Get over here. Now. Bring the oil,” before he hung up.

I got over there as soon as I could, which, admittedly, included me driving a little bit more than my normal crazy, and I brought the oil.

The minute I arrived, I barely knocked twice before the door was opened, I was in and Creed was on me.

He didn’t speak. What he did do was do me up the ass, fuck me normally and make me come three times before he found it.

I let this happen because he was being silent and broody, except a lot hotter since he was fucking me while doing it.

Now, I wanted to know what was going on.

He lifted his head and declared, “You’re staying with me in two weeks when we go down to Phoenix. No more of this hotel bullshit.”

“Uh,” I proceeded cautiously, “not sure I’m down with that, baby. It’s too soon.”

“If Brand lays shit on you like he laid on you tonight, then it’s not too soon.”

There it was.

They had the talk.

“Tell me what’s happening,” I encouraged on an arm squeeze.

He pulled out gently and rolled off to settle on his back in the bed. Once there, he lifted both hands and swiped his face.

I rolled to my side, plastering my front to his and got up on a forearm.

“Creed, baby,” I called.

He dropped his hands, rolled toward me and got up on his elbow, head in his hand.

“You told me that shit went down and since you suggested the kids have a chat with me, they did.”

I dropped down to lie like him and prompted, “Okay.”

“So they shared their shit and I was right. Kara likes you. Rabidly. She thinks you’re the key to gettin’ me back. And, as you know, she thinks her Mom’s the reason why she lost me.”

“Right,” I said softly when he stopped speaking, so Creed started speaking again.

“I had no choice but to share that shit with Chelle. This meant I had no choice but to listen to Chelle bawlin’ her eyes out and workin’ out with her what we’re gonna do about Kara. This, for some fuckin’ reason, led to her goin’ back over, a-fuckin’-gain, how she trapped me into marriage and how I needed to be free of the burden of guilt for our marriage not workin’. Except, unlike the seven hundred fuckin’ times we went over that shit before, she wouldn’t let it go. She kept at me. For-fuckin’-ever. It was only when I said I’d let that go did she calm down. Then she started up again bawlin’, but this time it was about how happy she was for me and how you were the shit ‘cause you bein’ around meant we were workin’ all this out.”

When he stopped talking, I remarked, “None of this sounds bad, Creed. Why are you in a mood?”

“’Cause I gotta work all this shit out and I have no fuckin’ clue how to explain to my daughter that she’s got a great mother who’s a good woman she should learn from and emulate and, bein’ a girl, she needs her Mom growin’ up. Therefore, she is not movin’ in with you and me.”

“Can I suggest that giving a little might get you all a lot?”

His brows drew together. “What?”

“Creed, you see your kids four days a month. I get that your work makes that the way you have to go but you’ll have me partnering with you and living with you, so maybe you’ll have more time to be with your kids. If Chelle’s down with restructuring custody, maybe you two can do joint or you can have a day or two a week. If they’ve got a ways to go for school and you’re busy, I’ll be all over getting them to and from school but more time with you may help Kara out. If Chelle gives that to her daughter, it may help her to see her Mom in a different light. And,” I grinned, “I’m awesome and you love me but I’m not her Mom. She’s young, she may not get it for years but I figure she’ll get it eventually that Chelle is really the shit and all that will work itself out. You all just need to power through it. Girls are complicated but, if we have a brain in our heads, which Kara does, we straighten ourselves out in the end.”

His eyes drifted over my head and he stared unfocused into the room a moment before he muttered, “Chelle’d work that out with me.”

I figured Chelle would do just about anything for Creed and her kids but I kept my mouth shut.

He kept musing over my head. “And I’d get to see my kids more.”

“And they’ll get to see you. An all-‘round winner.”

He looked back at me and said softly, “You’re gonna be a good Mom.”

Jesus, I hoped so.

“If we’re lucky, we’ll find out that’s true sooner rather than later.”

His arm snaked out and wrapped around me, pulling me toward him, off my elbow and tucking me under him as he rolled into me. “Doesn’t have to do with luck. We gotta put the effort in,” he told me.

We certainly were doing that.

“As you know, I’m all in on that plan,” I shared.

He smiled down at me.

I lifted a hand and ran a finger down his jaw as I said quietly, “Don’t know where you’re at with it. I told you Chelle told me all about it. I’m just going to say for the record, she’s right. She deliberately trapped you into marriage and knew through your time together she didn’t have your love.”

“Can’t trap a man who agrees.”

I shook my head. “Oh yeah, you can.”

“Sylvie –”

I cut him off to ask, “Did you tell her you love her?”

I watched his jaw get hard before he forced out his, “No.”

“Not ever?”

He drew in breath then admitted, “Found other words that implied it but didn’t say it.”

“Then you didn’t lie.”

“She didn’t hold me at gunpoint at the altar,” Creed pointed out.

“Babe,” my hand slid down to the side of his neck and curled around, “you’re Creed. You’ve always been Creed. She fell in love with you and did it hard, so even drifting after losing me, my guess is, you were Creed with her too. And the Tucker Creed I know would never knock up a woman and not do right by her. My guess again, she knew that and played on it. People do shit when they love someone. It wasn’t cool but it was understandable. That said, you gotta let that go. You both played your part in that doomed marriage. If you let it go, maybe she can let it go too. You’d be doing her a favor and I think if you two worked that shit out, your kids would feel that ease between you and it would work out for them too.”

Creed stared down at me and asked, “Jesus, baby, when’d you get so fuckin’ smart?”

I grinned up at him. “See, when I was six, I met this worldly eleven year old who was wise and took care of me and taught me everything he knew.”

As I spoke, I watched Creed’s eyes flash, his face harden with intensity and I felt his body tense against mine.

When I was done talking, he said softly, “Fuckin’ love you, Sylvie.”

I kept grinning. “Fuckin’ love you too, Tucker Creed.”

Then I lifted my head, touched my mouth to his and only moved back an inch before I said quietly, “Thank you for giving me a great birthday.”

I watched his face get soft and I fell back to the pillows just in time for his hand to come up, his finger touched my new (totally beautiful) pendant then it slid under it and twisted the chain gently before he replied, “You’re welcome, beautiful.”

My grin got bigger but it didn’t last long.

This was because Creed dropped his head and kissed me.

Therefore, my birthday started great (notwithstanding the shitty dream) because of Creed.

And it ended great too.

Because of Creed.