AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Maybe she felt if she loved him enough, she could fix him, make him a better man," Ember suggests.
I look at Ember. "Some people can't be fixed, baby." My words cause her expression to change. I can't handle the sadness in her eyes and look away, focusing on the lake in the distance. "I would watch him build my mom up just to cut her down. She would beg him to get clean, to stay sober long enough to see the world differently, but he didn't want any part of the pretty little picture she was painting him." I lick my dry lips and feel myself being taken back in time. Pushing through the discomfort, I continue. The only way to get to the other side of the pain is to go through it. "I came home from school one day to find my mom in tears. I was nine then but knew what had happened that day." My stomach tightens, and bile burns my throat from the emotion of that day rising to the surface. "My father allowed his MC brother to have his way with my mom." My nostrils flare as my breathing increases.
"Blake." Ember's hand grips my thigh tighter.
I glance at my sister, whose attention is still on my face. Unshed tears pool in her eyes, but she says nothing.
"I grabbed a gun from my mom's nightstand." I picture the events in my head as I tell what happened. "I wanted to kill him. I had every intention of putting a bullet in him, but I didn't know the gun wasn't loaded, so nothing happened when I pulled the trigger. If it weren't for my mom, I'm positive he would have killed me for what I attempted." I huff and shake my head because I still feel the sting of his words. "The last words we exchanged was him telling me I was nothin' more than a waste of cum…" I fall silent.
"What did you say to him?" Bellamy's voice breaks with emotion.
I lock eyes with my sister. "I promised that one day, I would kill him." Bellamy remains composed. I pause, needing a moment before continuing. "We left that night. She waited until our dad passed out, took several bills from the pile of cash he had on the coffee table, and we walked what felt like miles to the bus station. My mom bought a one-way ticket to a small town outside San Bernardino where the grandparents I'd never met lived. Three months later, our father found us. The aftermath left my mom and grandparents dead. I went into the system soon after. For years my mom's and grandparents' deaths were written off as a robbery gone wrong. They never found evidence leading back to our father, so the case went cold. It wasn't until a few years ago that I learned his club paid off a handful of dirty cops to cover up the murders.”
Finally, the tears she had held back slowly fall down her cheeks. "I don't mean to be a baby." She wipes them away.
I hang my head, unsure if I should have shared so much. I feel Ember's hand cup my cheek and guide my face to look at her. Her eyes are also wet with tears, and I feel an ache. "I shouldn't have said anything."
"The bravest thing anyone can do is share their most vulnerable pieces with others. Don't apologize for that, Blake." Her lips press lightly against mine. The kiss is soft but has the strength to lift me.
"I don't think my mom loved our dad," Bellamy says, breaking the connection between Ember and me, though not intentionally. "My mom wasn't always an addict." She takes a deep breath and focuses on the cookie in her hands. I shift my body and pull Ember into my side, where she lays her head on my shoulder, and we give Bellamy our undivided attention. "She used to bake cupcakes all the time and let me help." A small but sad smile tugs at her lips as she remembers the good in her life, but it fades quickly. "I was six years old when she started changing. I would find her passed out on the couch or in her bed. On my 8th birthday, I found her slumped on the bathroom floor with a needle in her arm. Her breathing was shallow. I called 911." She sighs, taking a moment to gather herself. "I went into state custody that summer while my mom left to get better. She had just gotten me back when our dad was killed."
A better person would feel something right about now, knowing they are responsible for a man's death, but I'm not that person.
Bellamy gets to her feet, only to turn her back to us and lift her face to the sun. "For almost a year, she managed to stay clean, but she failed to avoid the club lifestyle and became involved with another club member. She relapsed not long after." She sniffles and faces us. The amount of brokenness I see in her eyes mirrors mine. "I understand your mom having hope, Blake. That somehow, someway, through all odds, you can fix someone. I was convinced I would fix her if I loved her hard enough. And that she would eventually love me enough to stop and take care of me instead, but it never happened." Bellamy claws at her chest. It's clear to me that my sister has been grieving the loss of the mother she once knew for a long time.
I'm on my feet and wrapping my arms around her as she buries her face against my chest and cries, releasing years of tears. Bellamy hiccups. "Why am I not enough?"
"It's not your fault. Addiction doesn't just take from the user. It robs from the people around them, too." I think about my sobriety. "You are enough, Bellamy."
Several minutes pass before she pulls away and takes a few deep breaths.
Ember stands, bringing a bottle of cold water with her, and offers it to Bellamy.
"I feel ridiculous for falling apart," my sister apologizes.
"Don't sweat it, kiddo. I know what it's like to have the world's weight on your shoulders and hurt and anger eating at your insides. It's bound to spill out sometimes." I sigh, feeling some of the weight lifted.
Ember comforts Bellamy, brushing the teen's hair away from her face, "We're allowed to fall apart from time to time." She turns her face toward me, letting me know her words are meant for me, too, then she goes back to focusing on Bellamy.
I stand back and watch the woman I love being so tender to my sister, and suddenly can't help thinking that she'll be the best mom to our kids one day. I latch onto that image momentarily, letting it encapsulate me. Ember has a swollen belly, sitting on the porch swing of the home I built for us on this very spot. We're watching the sunset. She turns her head, looks at me, and smiles, rubbing circles on her pregnant belly and saying, "I love you."
She's my person—the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. There are no doubts that I'm in love with her.
"Hey." Ember's touch causes the vision to fade, and she stands before me. "Where did you go?"
"Nowhere." My heart is racing as I continue thinking about the future.
She eyes me with concern. "You, okay?"
"I'm good."
She studies me for a beat longer, then smiles. "Then what do you say to the three of us catching the beginning of a beautiful sunset before heading back?"
I dip my head, hovering my mouth over hers. "I'm a lucky man," I declare. Before my lips touch hers, I add, "You're mine."
Ember smiles. "Damn right I am."
When we get back, night has fallen, and activities around the clubhouse are minimal. Except for the older kids hanging out downstairs, everyone else is settled in for the night, and the place is quiet. I peel my shirt over my head, toss it to the floor, and kick off my boots. I sit in the chair beside the window and recline, watching Ember slip out of her clothes. My gaze fixates on her as she moves about the room, taking in the flare of her hips and the way her tits sway with each step she takes. She's confident in her skin, and that makes her more attractive. My dick stiffens as she lights the candles in the bedroom one at a time before turning out the light. The flames flicker, casting shadows on the walls and a warm glow on the ceiling. My eyes land on her cello. "Play for me." My voice is deep, needing to touch her.
