Daddy's Worst Nightmare Page 5

  Thank God I came and didn’t wait.

  I take the final step and throw myself across Damian’s chest, wrapping my arms around his neck and squeezing my eyes closed. The gun goes off, loud and jarring. Women scream, men shout, an alarm peals and suddenly I’m on my back on the floor, Damian covering me with his body, his mouth moving, but I don’t hear any sound. Am I shot? There’s no pain.

  Maybe I’m in shock.

  My head turns to the right in slow motion and there’s my father, lying on the ground with a bullet wound in his head. An armed guard stands in the distance, still holding the gun, his expression stunned.

  But I have no time to process what happened because my fiancé turns those black, mad eyes on me, shaking me on the ground and his voice finally overcomes my temporary deafness from the gunshot.

  “What were you thinking? My girl. My sweet, sweet girl. What were you trying to do?” I can barely recognize his tone, it’s so steeped in anguish, cracking around the edges. His eyes are now red rimmed and delirious, his shaking hands traveling over every inch of my body. “You could have been killed. You knew you were going to be killed! How dare you. How dare you almost fucking die, Arya! You think my life for yours is an even trade? It’s not! It’s not. Do you think I’d want to live after you died in my arms? DO YOU?”

  His obvious torment causes tears to stream down my cheeks. “You’ve saved me so many times. It was my turn. I don’t want to live without you, either.” I start to hiccup, the adrenaline deserting me. “S-stop yelling at me.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He drags me into his arms and rocks me back and forth in his lap, his movements compulsive. “Goddammit. I’m going to have nightmares for the rest of my life. You ran. You ran in front of the gun. Don’t you ever put me through this again. You are my life, Arya. Please. My fucking life.”

  I nod into his neck and make the promise.

  “Get the court officer in here now!” Damian roars over my head, still rocking me in his arms. “I’m not moving until she’s my wife. Get it done. I need to bring her home.”

  Everyone scrambles to do his bidding and someone throws a sheet over the body of my father. A minute later, the court officer runs out and has us repeat our vows on the floor, his nervous gaze lighting on Damian every two seconds, as if worried my almost-husband will strike. I’m shaken by so many emotions at once. Joy that I’m marrying the love of my life, sadness that I never truly knew my father and now he’s gone. But mostly, I feel relief that Damian is alive. Our union might be forged in today’s fire, but we’re strong enough to face anything. We’re beginning our forever together.

  When we’re finally pronounced man and wife, Damian lets out the breath he seems to have been holding, his mouth landing on mine, hard and desperate, kissing me until I run out of air. Then he stands with me in his arms and walks out of the courthouse.

  “Mine,” he breathes into the dusk.

  And I am. Completely and always.

  Epilogue

  Damian

  Five years later

  I try not to panic when I walk into the house and Arya isn’t immediately in front of me.

  She usually runs to me the moment I step over the threshold and it’s become the only good part about work. Coming back. Catching her up against my chest and reassuring her that, although I have a dangerous job, I stay in the shadows. Stay out of the line of fire as much as possible. When a man has built himself the perfect paradise with an angel at his side, he doesn’t risk it for anything.

  I check Arya’s office first. There are shelves and shelves of fantasy books to my left, her command station to my right. She is still running her dog adoption website—it’s something that fulfills her and I strive to see her happy—but I’ve convinced her to hire some remote help, so it doesn’t consume all of her time. After all, I’m already consuming quite a lot of it. I would take more if I could, but we’ve had some welcome additions to the family.

  A little boy named Benjamin.

  A slightly older girl named Suzanna.

  They are both perfect, just like their mother.

  With my heart swelling in my chest, I check the nursery upstairs next, but it’s empty as well. Our bedroom, too.

  I swallow a fistful of quarters and whip out my cell, calling the phone I’ve asked Arya to keep on her at all times. My number and 911 are the only contacts on it. And if she doesn’t answer the damn thing—

  “Damian!” Arya answers cheerfully, and I sink down onto our bed, trying to get my breathing under control. “Are you home? We’re in the backyard.”

  Starved for the sight of her, of my little family, I go to the window overlooking the ocean. We have a private beach several acres in the distance, but there is a swimming pool below and a lawn stretching down to the water. Arya and our four fully grown dogs are off to the side near one of my towering walls with gardening tools spread out around them on the grass. Suzanna jumps up and down, waving at me excitedly.

  Benjamin is strapped to Arya’s chest.

  I can’t reach them fast enough. Is it unusual that any time I’m in the same room with my wife and children, I can’t seem to draw a substantial breath? How have I gotten so lucky?

  I don’t know, but I’m not going to test it any more.

  If I’m going to be the best father and husband possible, I’ll have to trade one risk for another. The difference is, this new risk will make my family happy and that…that is invaluable. Greater than any amount of money or influence in the criminal world.

  Suzanna runs toward me giggling and I toss her up in the air, catching her on the way down, before settling her on my hip. She’s got her mother’s big eyes and bigger heart. “Dada, we’re planting vegetables.”

  The dogs sniff me and wag their tails. I try to pat each of them on the head without having to take my eyes off my beautiful wife.

  Arya smiles at me from her knees, the strapless, pale yellow sundress she wears making her look like a ball of sunshine. Gorgeous. One arm is wrapped around the pouch that contains our sleeping son. “I thought it would be fun. And this way, it’s kind of like I’m going to the supermarket.” Her tone is eager, excited. “I can just walk outside and pick the produce.”

  But the words she’s saying cause a pang in my chest.

  Deep breath.

  “Maybe…soon. You can go to the real market.”

  Arya drops the spade in her hand, her expression perplexed. “What?”

  Christ, the idea of leaving is obviously so foreign to her. I didn’t mean to keep her trapped inside these walls for so long, but our wedding day almost broke me. When I came so close to losing her, something inside me snapped and it has taken me five fucking years to even consider letting her leave. Five years.

  I’m an obsessive bastard when it comes to my wife, but I’m going to make some gradual changes. As much as I don’t want to be like my father, I don’t want to be like Arya’s father, either, keeping such a beautiful soul under lock and key. She deserves better. I’m going to give it to her, no matter how much it fills me with terror.

  Suzanna yawns and drops her head down onto my shoulder. “Let’s go settle them in for naps and we’ll talk.”

  Arya nods, dazed, and we walk toward the house, side by side.

  There is a lump in my throat the size of an egg just being this close to her. The tip of her nose is slightly sunburned and I want to kiss it. Want to hold her. Make love to her. Hard.

  Having children means I’ve had to learn patience, but I don’t have it in great supply.

  Upstairs, we lay Suzanna and Benjamin down in their rooms and they’re breathing evenly before their heads hit the pillow. This is peace. This is what it feels like and my wife has given it to me. Where would my life have led if she didn’t approach me that day on the subway steps? I shudder to think about it. It gives me nightmares.

  Arya and I meet on the landing between the children’s rooms and I take her hand, leading her into our bedroom and closing the door, sh
oving her up against it with my body. Pushing up between her splayed thighs and groaning. I don’t kiss her. I can’t. Not if we’re going to have this important conversation. If my mouth touches hers, my already hard cock will come out and that has to wait. I need to tell her I’m going to be better. I need to tell her I’m going to make her happier.

  “I missed you today,” she whispers, looking up at me through her lashes. “So bad.”

  “Don’t make me fuck you,” I say, my breath turning ragged. “Not yet.”

  She nods. “What did you mean that maybe I can go to a real market soon?”

  I take her face in my hands, tilting it up. “For the last year, sweetheart, I’ve been selling off the business. Piece by piece. Today I handed over the keys to the bookmaking operation. And now…Arya, I’m done. I’m out.”

  “What?” she breathes, her brown eyes like saucers. “W-who did you sell to?”

  “Different outfits. Men that have nothing to lose.” I brush my lips along her hairline. “I’m not one of them. I have everything in the world and I’m not leaving this house one more time not knowing if I’m going to come back. I’m not putting you through that anymore, either.”

  She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. “I try to be brave, but…”

  “I know you do, sweetheart.” I brush the moisture from her cheeks. “We have more money than God now, Arya. You want to go see the world…you want to go to the supermarket, I’ll probably send a dozen men with you, but my enemies are going to be in short supply from now on and…I want you to have some freedom.”

  The last part comes out sounding choked.

  But when her face lights up, I know it’s going to be worth the fear.

  “Can we go to Paris?”

  Deep breath. All those people around my girl… “We can go for a month, if you want.”

  “What about Hawaii? Ireland? Thailand?”

  “Yes. Anywhere you want. As long as it’s safe.”

  Her laugh is bright, clear and abandoned. She drops kisses all over my face. “Oh, I’m so happy. I’m so excited! I love you, Damian.”

  “I love you, too, Arya,” I say hoarsely, thanks to her legs cinching around my waist. I tilt my hips hard enough to rattle the door hinges and just like that, we’re frantic to fuck. Her panties tear away in my hands and we go to work on my zipper, our fingers bumping together. “Not going to make it to the bed,” I rasp into a kiss. “And you’re getting it rough. You’ll be getting it rough a lot.” I guide my cock to her wet entrance and slam deep, covering her mouth with my hand to trap her pleasured scream. “Letting you out isn’t going to be easy for me. I’m going to take the fear out on this tight-ass pussy.”

  “Yes,” she gasps, receiving my first upward punch.

  “As often as I want,” I growl through my teeth.

  “As often as you want.”

  My thrusts are brutal, deep, fast and she’s already shaking a minute later, her pretty tits bouncing around in the neckline of her dress, her head thrown back, mouth open. “Damian,” she moans, her walls trembling and contracting around me, pulling me to the edge.

  “That’s right, wife. Say my name. Say it forever. Love me forever, the way I love you.”

  “I will. I do.”

  THE END

  Want a FREE Jessa Kane book?

  JAILBAIT is no longer available for sale.

  BUT…

  Sign up before July 31, 2020 to receive it in the newsletter.

  NEWSLETTER: https://www.jessakaneauthor.com/newsletter-sign-up

  There’s a moment in every man’s life when he senses his downfall. Sees it hurtling straight at him like a goddamn torpedo. Maybe it’s a bad poker bet, a wrong turn in a terrible neighborhood, or one line of coke too many.

  Mine is a redhead.

  I advertised for a magician’s assistant and this sweet, little thing walked in the door. But I ain’t no magician. I need my redhead for far more nefarious purposes. Imagine my surprise when she comes along willingly, in need of a protector. And I’m the only man for the job, because I will kill to keep her safe…and in my bed where she belongs.

  SUBSCRIBE HERE to receive JAILBAIT:

  https://www.jessakaneauthor.com/newsletter-sign-up