Faith, Honor & Freedom (25 page)

Mom and Dad called, and said they would try and stop by later, too. Mom has been terrified, and Dad has been pissed about the whole situation. I honestly thought Dad was going to come out of retirement after the show aired and they learned the whole truth. Each day that passes he seems to become even antsier that he’s not allowed into the case files to review the forensic evidence. I can’t imagine it’s been easy for either of them. They lost Rhett and just about lost me, too. Mom has been bringing meals by a few times a week, and it’s been a great change from all the take-out I’ve been forced to eat.

We moved to this new hotel yesterday, and I have to say, it’s the nicest one yet. My favorite part just happens to be the huge soaker tub in the bathroom. I’ve still got an hour before Violet gets here, so I run a nice hot, bubble bath and slip into the water. I soak until my body feels numb from the heat before I even think about washing or shaving. I’ve got a cute little corset with matching panties I was planning on surprising Weston with tonight, and I want to look good.

My stomach finally feels a lot better, and I’ve started to just feel grateful that I’m alive. Yes, the scar is unsightly, but it’s a reminder that I was fortunate enough to live. I’m still here, and I need to make the most of my life. Sort of ironic, since I’m stuck in a hotel room, hiding in fear, but soon this will all be over. I’ve decided that as soon as Alec is incarcerated I’m going back to being a doula. I love what I do, and as much as I want a child myself, I know I’ll still be thrilled to help others get their happily ever after.

I finish shaving my legs before reluctantly climbing out of the bath. I’m drying myself with the towel when I hear a knock at the door. I wrap the towel around my middle and rush to the peephole.

Violet.

I open the door, forgetting about the police officer standing next to her. I let Violet in swiftly, but the heated gaze of today’s officer—Paul—doesn’t escape me. I feel myself flush as he gives me the once over from head to toe. Paul is a good-looking man, but he’s not my type. Hell, I don’t have a type anymore. The only reason I’m with Weston is because I’ve known him my whole life. If there’s any male I can trust, it’s him. He’s been the chief part of my healing this past month, even if it’s just to fuck me until I can’t think about anything besides him.

“Have a good day,” I say clumsily before slamming the door on Paul.

“Jesus, put some clothes on before Hoss has to fire that poor horny bastard,” Vi laughs.

“That was so not funny. I haven’t been ogled like that since the tenth grade.”

“You do realize what you look like naked, right? I’m ogling you right now, too,” she says, waggling her eyebrows.

“I’m wearing a towel,” I retort, looking down to make sure I didn’t imagine wrapping it around myself.

Phew, I’m good.

“You’re still all wet and sexy,” she jokes.

I had been so caught up in the awkward exchange that I didn’t even realize she hasn’t brought Gavin.

“Where’s my little man?”

“He wanted to stay with Daddy. Jack’s been working so much, the poor little guy rarely gets to see him,” she says, plopping down on the bed.

“Poor Jack,” I say, knowing how much he probably misses them.

“Anyway, happy birthday!”

“Thanks!”

“I’d give you a hug, but you’re wet,” she says, pulling her laptop from her bag. “You get dressed, I’ll start shopping.”

I hurry into the bathroom and get ready to make the most of my birthday. It’s my last year in my twenties, and I plan to make the most of it … once I’m allowed to leave this room.

I slip on the sultry off-white cocktail dress that Vi gave me for my birthday. She surprised me with it after a few hours of online shopping—a present from my parents. I’d managed to score a new pair of boots and a few new tops.

I look in the mirror as Vi does up the small zipper on the side. It fits like a glove. The entire dress is filled with silver rhinestones in different shapes and sizes, and the bust dips into a sweetheart neckline, revealing more cleavage than I usually care to show. There’s also the fact that it’s short. Shorter than short. I’m scared that if I bend over in it, I’ll be giving anyone in a mile radius a good show. The color definitely does wonders for my skin, though. Wasting away in a hotel room, which sometimes has a balcony, sometimes doesn’t, hasn’t helped my complexion much. The dress, however, gives my skin a nice tanned appearance. Magic!

“Well?” Vi asks impatiently.

“It’s beautiful,” I say apprehensively.

“But?”

“No but,” I fib.

“What is it?” she asks.

“It’s just a little … revealing.”

“You mean you look absolutely fuckable in it. And you’re complaining why?”

“I just wish I had somewhere to wear it is all. I love it, though, Vi. I really do. Thank you.”

“That’s better,” she says, pulling me into a hug. “You’re welcome.”

The ping of a text message sends me rushing across the room to grab my phone. Even though I’m sure that someone would call if Alec has been found, I can’t help but pray that’s the news I read. Freedom would be the greatest birthday gift.

Hoss – Hey beautiful, how’s your day going?

“What the hell!” I shriek. “He left before I woke up, hasn’t called or texted all day, finally bothered to, and still didn’t wish me a happy birthday. Do you think he even remembers? I mean, Christ, even if he sucked as a best friend-boyfriend, I thought at least he would notice my birthday on the casework,” I complain. “He’s a good detective, if nothing else!”

Vi shrugs.

Lana – Not bad …

Hoss – Just ‘not bad?’

What the hell is his issue? I’m the forgotten one!

Lana – yup
.

Okay, so maybe I’m being a little childish, but it’s my freaking birthday, and I’ve been caged up for weeks. I at least deserve a happy birthday from him.

Hoss – Sunshine, do you honestly think I forgot?

I don’t have time to ponder his last statement. The hotel door flies open and in walks Weston with a huge bouquet of pink and yellow orchids.

“You remembered,” I reply, slightly embarrassed.

“Of course I remembered, Sunshine. Happy birthday.” And with that, he envelopes me in his strong arms and plants his lips on mine. I let myself melt into him, forgiving him for not speaking a word to me all day. I pull back.

“I thought you forgot; you didn’t say anything before you left this morning.”

“You looked really peaceful. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Oh,” I say, laying my head against his chest.

“I’m still here,” Vi shouts from behind us. “And can I just say how incredibly awkward it is to see you two together, finally.”

“No, no, you cannot,” I reply, spinning around to look at her. “It’s my birthday today, so behave.” I stick my tongue out at her and she laughs.

“Well, as cozy as this is, I think there are better places to be on your birthday,” Vi says. I can’t help the frustration and annoyance that bubbles up inside of me.

“Vi, I can’t help it, okay? I know I fucked up, and that’s on me. I’m stuck in this stupid hotel, and you know that. No need to rub it in my face.”

The room falls silent before both Weston and Vi burst out laughing.

“Someone needs a drink,” he whispers into my ear. “Go get ready, Lana.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, spinning around to look at their guilt-ridden faces. “What did you two do?”

“Did you really think I’d make you sit in this room all night?” he asks. I nod my head. “Get your shoes on, do whatever you need to do. We’re going out for some drinks.”

“But …” I’m too scared to say Alec’s name and ruin the mood.

“You’re going to the same bar as about a dozen other off-duty officers, with drive-bys from officers who
are
on duty. You’ll be even safer there than you are here.”

I feel the anticipation build. “I really get to leave?” I ask disbelievingly.

“Yes, now go get ready,” he orders. “I’ll be back in a few.”

I jump into his arms and wrap my legs around him giving him a huge bear hug. I can’t even contain myself and let out a squeal. “Thank you!”

He gives me a chaste kiss before turning and leaving. I look over at Violet, who now looks incredibly guilty. “How are you so good at keeping secrets from me lately?”

“Must be a mom thing,” she jokes. My face falls at the mention of the word mom, and I subconsciously clutch my stomach.

“Shit, Lana, I’m an idiot,” she says.

I pull my hands away from my stomach, placing the smile back on my face. “No, you know what? Nothing is going to ruin my night. Now come and help me get ready.”

Half an hour later, my hair is curled, my eyes are smoky, and my lips are a pale pink. Violet left to go home, feed Gavin, and get ready before meeting us at the bar. She did get to enjoy the cake and take out that I had delivered first, however.

I grab my strappy gold heels and sit on the edge of the bed, winding them around my ankles and then clasping them. The door opens, and I look up as Weston walks inside. He’s wearing a black t-shirt that’s stretched tight around his biceps and chest muscles, and of course, jeans that I’m sure make his ass look fabulous. His hair is still damp, and I know he probably went home for a shower. I look at his face and realize his eyes are devouring my body. I look back down and sure enough, there’s a massive hard-on straining from inside of his pants.

Fuck, that’s hot.

He moves toward me like a predator tracking his prey, and when his lips press down on mine forcefully, I don’t protest. It’s only when his hands, start travelling over my dress, searching for a zipper that I realize he’s going to undo all of the hard work I’ve done, and we will probably wind up staying in the hotel all night, making love. As much as I love doing that, I
need
to leave this hotel room for my own sanity.

“My dress,” I say, pulling back, my breathing ragged.

“I’ll buy you another one,” he promises, his lips meeting mine again in a desperate need. I get lost in the sensation, the need to have him inside of me so strong that I soon realize I’m fighting a losing battle. I can only minimize the damage. I pull back again, letting him know that he needs to come up with a better plan. He looks around the room before leading me into the bathroom. He places both of my hands on the sink, and stands behind me, whispering into my ear. “Don’t let go.”

I feel my core clench, as I give a feeble nod. He drops to his knees behind me, kissing the inside of my thighs, and lifting my dress up around my waist.

“So fucking hot,” he murmurs, slapping my ass cheek. I bite down on my lip, letting out a small cry. He grabs a hold of the top of my thong with his teeth, and pulls them slowly down my legs, leaving them to settle around my ankles. He spreads my legs apart, before burying his face into my pussy from behind. I grasp the cold porcelain of the sink, enjoying the coolness against my abdomen in contrast to the heat between my legs.

His tongue moves rapidly, and within minutes I’m climaxing, begging for more. He pulls back and smacks my ass hard, growling. I whimper.

“So fucking wet,” he says huskily, swirling his fingers around my clit. He pushes his face back into my core—this time, making slow, torturous swirls with his tongue. I push against him, wanting it, faster, harder, but it feels like he’s … what the hell?

“What are you doing?”

He pulls back, amused. “Writing my name.”

“… Why?”

“Because this cunt is all fucking mine,” he says, getting up off his knees. I hear the rustling of his pants and start to turn toward him, but he stops me, placing my hands back on the cool counter top. “Stay right where you are,” he says brusquely.

His pants drop to the floor, but he keeps them around his ankles and slams into me hard.

“Weston!” I cry out, watching him in the mirror in front of me. His face is full of passion, heat, and unabashed want.

He pulls all the way out before slamming back into me, repeating the motion, over and over until I’m sure that I’m going to explode if he doesn’t relieve this pressure building inside of me. Just when I think I can’t take any more, he buries himself deep inside of me, and stays there, panting. I watch him staring at me through the mirror and tighten myself around him. He curses before pounding into me with an intense need. An orgasm shatters through me in minutes, and I sag against the counter as my knees go weak. Weston wraps an arm around my stomach, lifting me up to give him better access. He continues his assault until he shudders as he pumps his release into me, growling his approval.

He stays buried inside of me as we struggle to catch our breath. He reaches onto a shelf and grabs a washcloth and wets it in the sink in front of me. When he pulls out, he presses it against my sensitive flesh, wiping the hot liquid he buried inside of me.

“Thanks,” I mutter, slightly uncomfortable. No one has ever done that for me before. When he finishes, he takes my hand in his, and I feel him slip something on my finger.
What the hell?

I look up at him before I look down at my hand.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, Sunshine. It’s a placeholder. I’m just letting you, and every man that comes near you, know that I have every intention of putting an engagement ring on that finger when all of this shit is said and done. You’re my everything, Lana—always have been, always will be, and when we’re done living hotel room to hotel room, I’m going to make you mine. I’ve wasted most of my life; I’m not waiting another minute.”

I look up into his eyes that are full of emotion before looking down at the ring. A beautiful square emerald sits in the center of the placement, surrounded by little white diamonds. The band is white gold, and it’s absolutely breathtaking.

“Weston,” I breathe, my eyes filling with tears. “This is too much,”

“There’s no such thing as too much when it comes to you, Lana Carter.”

We pull up to the Alehouse a little after nine. I feel absolutely giddy to be around other people. Weston walks around the truck and opens my door for me, offering his hand to help me down. “Happy birthday, Sunshine,” he says with a kiss to my forehead. I give him a smile and think about taking him again right here in the parking lot, but the beat of the music inside has me gravitating toward the door instead. He pulls the door open, and I step inside the bar.