Final LockDown (25 page)

“I promise baby, now tell me.” It couldn’t have happened at school, he is on holiday at the moment. I rack my brain over and over trying to think of where this could have happened but nothing comes to me.

“Okay, well, you know I went to work with dad on Tuesday?” Joe asks me, turning to face me. I nod again, answering him. “Well I was running through the hallway and a man was there, for daddy. He was out in the back but Daddy was getting a delivery, so Uncle Tom was looking after me whilst he cooked,” Joe answers and my eyes pinch together.

“Who was this man, Joe and what did he do?” I ask, nervous for his answer. It makes me sick to know it is in fact an adult that had hurt him. I feel violent and angry at everyone, including my husband.

“He pushed me into the wall and a pipe dug into my back and hurt me. That’s how I got the bruise. He scared me mummy, he said to tell Daddy he’d be back for him, that I should stay away from daddy’s work from now on.” Joe’s tears return and his body shakes in fright.

“What was his name, baby?” I ask him, holding him into me so he can cry away his emotions.

“He didn’t say, but he was big and scary, bigger than uncle Ant. He said Auntie Maria would know who he was.” Fuck. That means one thing and one thing only; the Blackmans are back, after god knows how long.

“Okay buddy, thank you for telling me. You’re safe here, nobody will ever hurt you, okay baby? Now, you need to go and tell daddy that one of the kids at the park pushed you over, okay, give him a cuddle and tell him you love him.” I instruct my son to lie, needing to work things over in my head.

“Okay. I hope I didn’t upset him. I was just scared daddy would get hurt if I said something,” he informs me but I smile as though nothing is wrong, wiping his eyes and messing his hair.

“Everything is fine, pudding. Go and see daddy and get in the pool. Mummy will sort everything out.”

Joe nods and runs off through the lounge and into the garden. “Come on dad, let’s get in the pool then,” Joe shouts from outside and I smile sadly, internally screaming in fear. There is no way I can deal with this again, not after everything I have been put through with those animals. I thought this was over, I thought Leighton had ended all of this. We haven’t heard from them in god knows how long, the only connection we have is Debbie and her pregnancy. She must still work for them, maybe she knows something. She owes it to me, to all of us, to tell me the truth.

My anguish and fear takes over, causing me to collapse into the sofa, bringing my knees up to hide my tearful face.

“Abbi.” I hear Antonio’s voice before I feel him or see him. His strong hold covers me, shielding me from reality for a brief moment. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?” he asks me, lifting my face to look at him.

“They hurt him, Ant, they hurt my baby.” I cry, burying my head into his chest, unable to hide the pain that is ripping through me. They had nearly taken me from this world and my daughter, I can’t stand the image of them hurting my son, scaring him so much he retreats from his own father.

“Who, baby girl, who hurt Joe?” he begs me to tell him.

“They’re back, Ant. I thought they were gone forever, but they’re back and they’re looking for him, they want Leighton. God, I can't breathe, I'm going to be sick.” I jump from the chair and sprint through my house to the closest bathroom, depositing my food and stomach contents into the bowl.

“Tell me, Abigail. Who are you talking about?” He is beside me, brushing my hair from my face, stroking my forehead softly with a damp cloth.

“The Blackmans. They were at the restaurant Tuesday and they cornered Joe, pushed him into a wall and bruised his back. They threatened him, told him not to go back there and to tell Leighton they would be back. Fuck, what do we do?” Another bout of vomit escapes my mouth and lands in the toilet.

“I need to tell Leighton, you understand that don't you Abbi?” Antonio warns me and I nod, crying painful tears.

“I know, I promised Joe I wouldn’t tell anyone but after what he’s told me I have to, I can't risk not saying anything. If they are back again, Ant, I'm worried what they will do. They hurt him, he’s so scared, Ant. He wouldn’t even look at Leighton earlier, his own father. He was scared of him because he was a man.” I turn and sit on my bottom leaning against the cabinet in the toilet. I brush my hair back, placing my hands either side of my forehead pushing firmly into my temples, to ease the migraine heading my way.

“I'm calling a meeting tonight, Abigail. I need you there to tell everyone what Joe said. He doesn’t need to know anything, he doesn’t need to know we know or that we will do anything about it. Just remain calm and just be there for him and for the love of God, keep him away from Angelo’s,” Antonio tells me, helping me to stand from the floor. He wipes my face  with a cool cloth and flushes the chain. My stomach is settled a little, so I follow him through the lounge and back outside.

With my face clear and my heart broken, I walk over to Georgia and take my daughter from her. I want to cry, I want to cling to her with everything I have to make sure she doesn’t ever know the pain we both went through before she was born. The trauma I suffered with her inside my stomach is something I still can't forget and she doesn’t need to be subjected to it again.

I sit down, Melissa snuggled into my chest and watch my husband and son as they splash around in the water. Joe is back to his normal self, laughing, splashing and copying everything his dad does. I can see by the looks Leighton throws me that he doesn’t believe Joe’s story about the park, but for his benefit he pretends.

I watch as Antonio gets into the water and wades over to my husband, whispering in his ear. I know he’s telling him there’s a meeting tonight, but not what it’s about. Leighton looks at me with eyes that portray fear and anger. He holds it inside him expertly, continuing to play with our son as though nothing has happened.

I look to my right, Maria cradling the twins as they feed from her. It is the most beautiful and incredible thing. She looks at me and smiles, mouthing ‘are you okay?’ and I nod back, faking my own smile.

Georgia and she will never know of what is to come, of what happened to Joe. They don’t need to and it is best for them to remain as far away from the situation as possible. “Mum, dad said I can stay at Auntie Maria’s tonight and help look after the twins because their daddies have to come to ours to help daddy with work.” Joe is excited, his face lighting up with glee as he walks from me to Maria. He tells her the plan and she smiles to him, nodding her acceptance.

My life, as it was, perfect, precious and safe is about to turn on its axis and become one big cluster-fuck. Not only is this imbedding a fear inside of me I can’t get rid of, it is drudging up everything I have put into the back of my mind. My betrayal to Leighton and the pain it has caused us as a couple. Everything is coming back to the surface and haunting me all over again. I want to cry, to plead to God to help me to help us through the hard time ahead, but all I get is the continuous heat and sunshine.

I need a sign from him, anything that will tell me he is there and he will guide us safely through everything.

*****

I pack Joseph an overnight bag, containing his pyjamas, teddy and cars. His face is alight with glee as he waits by the door to go. Maria kisses my cheek and heads out with the babies and my son. I wave them as they drive off, Luke and Brad with her, for now. They will return soon to talk about the beginning to a new hell.

I make myself busy, tidying, cooking and cleaning in preparation for tonight. I bath and settle Melissa into bed and then return to the kitchen to make myself a drink. A stiff bloody drink. With vodka in a glass, I swallow it straight down, allowing the burn deep inside of me.

“Baby, you gonna tell me what this is all about now?” I feel Leighton behind me, his hard body pressing against me. I lean back into him, breathing heavily. My anger, the raw hatred inside of me for those despicable people is strong and toxic. With all of my strength, I turn and launch the empty glass across the room, allowing it to shatter and spread across the floor. I look to my husband, his eyes hooded and dark.

“Abigail,” he moans out as he takes in my appearance. I can't help myself, the situation isn’t right nor is the circumstance but I need him, I need to feel him and know he is there.

I launch myself into his arms, smashing my mouth against his, hard. “Baby,” I moan, my hands roaming his body as he lifts me and places me atop the kitchen island. I am actually glad Joe is gone, I can be carefree and naughty for once. I don’t care if any adults catch me, but I need my husband and I need him now. “Love me Leighton.” I beg him, kissing his mouth, his neck, his jaw. My hands grip his waistband, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down his thighs with my feet. “I need you, baby. I need you now. Fuck me and fuck me hard.” I plead, clawing at his shirt as I pull it over his head.

Leighton’s hands slip between us also, pulling my shorts and thong over my arse and down my legs. I sit atop the counter, one of his work shirts drowning me, but my pussy bare and open for him. I can feel my arousal dripping from within me, trickling onto the cold surface. “Fuck, you look so hot like this. Stay there,” he orders me, pushing my legs onto the counter and spreading them open. He stares hungrily at my sex, ripe and ready for his touch.

He disappears from the kitchen and I know better than to move. I remain how he leaves me, spread open for his disposal. I wait, biting my lip in anticipation for him. He returns wielding a flogger and my eyes bulge as my heart rate accelerates. I nod sexily, still biting my lip as I stare him down. I want him and I want him now.

“Get down and bend over, Abigail. We both need this, it’s been far too long,” he orders me, that British clipped tone back once again. We haven’t been together like this since before the wedding, not finding the time or environment for it. In a way, I think now, he is doing this to prove he is still a dominant and that him submitting to the mysterious Marcus, doesn’t change the man he was before.

“Yes Sir,” I reply seductively and timidly as I shuffle from the counter and onto the floor. I bend over, clinging to the edges of the marble worktop.

Bring it the fuck on.

I need to grasp some control right now, because my blood is fucking boiling. She isn’t telling me what this was about, but calling a meeting with my men and herself makes me very suspicious and nervous. I have watched my son leave with Maria and the twins, watched the glee on his face, a total contrast to his previous expression.

“You stay there, you do not move,” I command her as she reaches out sideways and clings to the worktop. Her pretty little arse pokes out, my oversized work shirt barely covering the delicious curves on show. I run my hand over the softness, squeezing harshly and then slapping it hard against her. She jolts forward a little, moaning as she does. I can see her hands desperate to let go, to touch herself and beg for me. “I do not want to hear a word from you Abigail. You seem to be mute in relation to our son, so I suggest we keep you that way for now,” I tell her, running my fingers through the soft suede throngs of the flogger.

I sigh, relishing in the feeling that is already radiating through me. Domination; plain and simple. It runs through me and powers me every day. I need it, I need to control her and release a little of the anger inside of me.

I need Marcus, but there is no way in hell I’d let him dominate me the way he has, in front of her or anyone I know. But his presence alone, it grounds me. “Scott!” I shout through the house, not needing anyone else to see her naked. Antonio is with my sister now, so he does not get to see my wife this way and Thomas and Nate are gay and really don’t need the visual of a woman’s sweet pussy.

“Boss,” he says from the hall. “Wow, now isn’t that a pretty picture?” he says, leaning against the doorframe and stroking his lip with his thumb. It is a hot image, the way his strong body stands there, aroused by my wife’s appearance.

“It is, isn’t it? Please can you go through my phone and call Marcus, tell him I need him and give him my address,” I ask him, winking as the erection tenting in his pants is obvious. He readjusts himself, leaving the kitchen.

“Here that, Angel? You’ve got our Scott all hot and bothered with your sexy arse and wet slippery pussy on show. Now, I’m going to paint it.” I warn her, bringing the flogger back and whipping it forward, barely flicking her skin with the ends.

She remains silent, but I see the tensing of her sex, her pussy contracting. I continue, softly attacking her with the softness. Her head lolls forward, the pleasure overtaking her. “Now, you can talk for one minute, tell me what this is about,” I order her, coming behind her and bringing my hands to her delicate throat. I lift her head back, kissing the length of her neck.

She shakes her head, pushing her naked backside into my tightening groin. “No, okay.” I shrug my shoulder, dropping her again. She keeps her fingers gripped to the wood, pushing herself forward so her breasts press against the marble and her arse protrudes just the perfect amount. I can see her damp folds, glistening with her juices, her perfect little clit throbbing for me to lick and suck on.

Nothing is happening tonight until I have fucked my wife, fucked her pussy hard and raw. It has been too long since we have been this way, it has been gentle lovemaking and fantastic oral for the past month, but now my cock is aching and in the mood for rough. So rough, it shall get.