“Mine.” she whispered.
“Yours.” He nodded, his blue eyes darkening. “And you, my sweet tesoro, are fuckingmine.” He swore.
Cesare notched his cock into her waiting pussy, back where it belonged. Sabrina gave a choking sort of gasp when Cesare thrust deep inside, filling her with his length as he chanted a steady stream of promises; promises to love her well, to fuck her full and often, and to fill her life with everything she would ever need.
Chapter Thirty-Five
(Dante)
A young woman with long brown hair and a slender build exited an Uber in view of the front entrance security feed of the Maine Marine Rescue. She wore simple jeans and a t-shirt, with a large camouflage rucksack on her back and one oversized camel colored duffel bag.
As the Uber drove away, she turned to face the rescue, staring at the building. Her expression slowly shifted from nostalgic to concerned, as her brows furrowed and she pursed her lips. She then squared her shoulders purposefully and cleared her expression as she marched up the walkway and turned the doorknob; a doorknob that, for the first time in her life, was locked.
“What the fuck?” She muttered, pulling back and spotting the security camera. She frowned. “I don’t mean to complain, but changing the locks without giving me a key feels like a dick move.” She spoke to the camera.
She had a smattering of freckles, almost identical to Sabrina’s, and ocean blue eyes that threatened an impending storm.
She fished her phone out of her pocket just as an old grey station wagon pulled up, and Walter St. John leaned his head out of the window.
“Bunny!” He grinned. “When did you get home?”
“Uncle Walter!” The woman exclaimed. “I just got back. Who put new locks on? And a security system?”
Walter sighed. “Have you talked to your sister yet?”
Brooke put a hand on her hip. “That’s what I’m here to do.” She frowned.
Walter put the car into park and opened an old, creaking metal door to get out. He walked up the walkway and held out a hand to take the duffle.
Brooke accepted the silent offer and handed it over.
Walter took the bag in hand and looked back at Brooke. “We had a talk after your parents' funeral.”
Brooke's gaze sharpened as she eyed him closely. “We had a few talks after the funeral.” She answered cautiously.
“I think it’s time to have another one.” Walter answered evenly. “Come on. We’ll drive up Route One and grab an ice cream at Sweet Pea’s.”
“Walter,” Brooke frowned, shaking her head. “I’m not ready.” She whispered.
“You are a strong, competent, young woman who kicks ass and takes names. You’re going to be just fine.” Walter answered evenly. He then gave a pointed look up at the security camera, before looking back at Brooke. “Come on, soldier. Into the truck you get.” He ordered.
Brooke’s blue eyes followed his gaze as a look of understanding crossed her face. “I guess Sweet Pea’s it is.” She muttered.
“Ayup.” Walter nodded, bringing up the rear. “How long are you on leave?” He asked.
“I’ve got two weeks off before I report back to base.” She answered as he threw her duffle in the back and opened her door.
“And where will homeport be, Brooke?” He asked.
Brooke gave a slight grin. “Kittery, Maine.”
Walter grinned wide, and his eyes all but shone as he gave a nod. “It’ll be good to have you back, Bunny.”
He closed her door, walked around the Station-wagon, and got into the driver’s seat. He gave the front entrance camera a lingering look before slowly driving away and out of frame.
Dante frowned as he watched the footage again.
As Dante had continued to dig into life in Kittery twenty years ago, he consistently ran into the same three names over and over again: Chief Harold Lockwood, Superintendent Jason Rosenbaum, and Fredrick Hamilton; Sabrina’s father.
