Mended Affections (The Affections Series Book 2) (14 page)

I open my eyes. "Let's not do that."

"What?" she whispers.

I reach over and pull her flush against me. "Let's not think about the past, and what might have been. Let's focus on where we go from here." I can feel her breath on my face, she is so close. "Any idea where that might be, Rea?"

She nods her head, and boldly reaches a hand down to cup me in her palm, running her hand up and down my length. "Does this give you an idea?"

I rest my forehead against hers and fight to ignore her touch. "I thought we decided that wasn't a good idea for us yet. I want more for us than just sex."

She grips me tighter, and then places a soft kiss against my lips. "I know what I feel for you, and I know we have a long way to go, but we're here, alone. Make me feel alive, Strike. God, it's been so long. I need your touch. I need you."

My eyes search hers once more, finding a pleading look of desire. Fuck, how do I say no to that? We're adults. Ones that have denied ourselves the gratification that only sex can bring a person. "I'm not prepared for sex, Rea. It really wasn't in the plans for tonight. I don't have any protection."

Rea pushes me onto my back, moving us until she is perched on top of me. This brings back memories from that night in my car, but there's nothing standing in our way now. I can have everything this woman wants to give. I can bury myself deep inside of my Alma and never look back.

"It's me, Striker. We'll be careful. I need this." She begins to rock her pelvis over me. "I need you, please."

I reach up; grab her face between my hands, bringing her down until we are nose to nose. "If I do this, Rea, there's no going back for me. I need to know that you’re ready for that. I need to know that you’re in this, just as much as I am. I can't survive losing you again."

"I know things have been tough, but I love you, Striker. I never stopped."

With those words, I pull her the rest of the way down to me, plunging my tongue between her lips. The warmth of her mouth and softness of her tongue, with the faintest taste of wine, consumes me. I'm wrapped up in Rea. All thoughts of any impending problems with the kids, or fights from our past, no longer exist. It's just her body moving against mine.

The coolness of the night air fades away, and the heat from my desire to make her feel things she didn't know she was capable of, takes over. The need to be in charge fuels me. I wrap my arms around her, flipping us so that she is pinned beneath me, never once breaking our kiss. My hand is still wrapped around her waist, holding her ass up off the truck, so that she's pressed against me, and her shoulders rest on the make shift bed.

Her hands are fisted in my jacket, pulling me in until we can't get any closer. I'm restricted from gaining access to her upper body because of her winter attire.

I lay her down, allowing my hand to gently graze her round, enticing ass, then drag it down her leg. The blanket that once covered us, is rumpled at our feet. I reach down, pulling it back on top of us so that I can rid her of her jacket, without her becoming cold. If that's even possible right now, because I feel like I’m on fire.

Rea pulls her lips from mine as I reach for her zipper. "There's way too much in between us."

"Patience, Alma, don't be in a rush. I want to take my time with you." I get her zipper down and push her coat down past her shoulders.

She leans forward, struggling slightly until her jacket is thrown to the side of the truck bed. Her hands make quick work of my jacket and begin to work on my shirt. I watch as her chest rises and falls in rapid succession. She's so worked up already, and I bet I will find she’s ready for me. The thought of finally taking the next step, sends a jolt straight to my dick. No one has compared to Rea.

"Please, Striker," she whispers.

I slowly slide my fingertips across her stomach, pushing her shirt up her body as I go. She shivers under my touch, and I realize she is a quivering mess. "Are you cold?"

"A little, but it's okay, please don't stop." Her hand reaches the hem of her shirt, and she tugs it over her head.

Underneath, she's wearing a black lace bra, with pink fabric beneath the lace. The contrast of it against her skin in the star illuminated night, adds to its appeal. I can't wait to get my hands on what lies beneath.

Bending forward, I place feather soft kisses across her stomach. Gently, I run my tongue in trails to moisten the skin, blowing over the wetness, drawing more shivers from her. When I place a hand on each side of her waist, her skin is cold, and I begin to hate that we're out here. "Rea, you're freezing. This doesn't seem like the place for this. I'll keep worrying that you're too cold to enjoy it."

"It really sounded like a great idea, until you got my jacket off. I'm afraid if you pull my bra down in these frigid temps, I may slice your skin wide open if you rub against my nipple," she says, laughing at herself now.

I lay my body down on top of hers to provide her with warmth. "What do you say we move this inside the truck?" She nods her head yes. "You cover up and keep warm, while I go and put the back seats down, and we can move our blankets inside."

"Okay." She pulls the blankets around her tightly, after I climb out of her way.

"Won't take me long." I hop down and make my way to the driver's side back door. I yank the door open and begin folding down the seats. I'm unable to get them flat at first, but then notice some of Colt's toys on the floor. I reach forward, leaning almost to the middle of the truck. Once I have my hand on the toy, I notice the sound of vibration coming from my phone, resting on the center console. It must have been at the end of the ring set and switched over to voice mail, because I only hear it one more time before the sound stops.

I look in its direction to see who it might have been, but it’s face down. Do I really want to answer it now, with Rea waiting for me barely dressed, in the back of the truck?

Shaking my head, I smile. Fuck no. Nothing is going to interrupt our time together. Not when she's practically begging me to show her body pleasure. I may have had a weak moment of thinking with the head that sits on my shoulders, but I think I moved past that and am now running, based on the fact that my dick is throbbing and ready to feel the heat of Rea.

I get the seats worked out, and I'm about to exit the truck and grab Rea, when my phone buzzes again. I stop and stare at it, battling myself again. What if it's about the kids? I reach forward, grabbing the phone, flipping it until the screen comes into view. My aunt's name is listed on the screen twice, once listing her four missed calls, and another listing her three missed text messages.  I swipe my finger across the screen, and start with the text messages.

Please call immediately, it's urgent. ~ 7:04 pm

Striker, call me. ~ 6:58pm

I need to speak with you. ~ 6:50 pm

I check the time, seven thirty-five. She must have stopped texting, and started calling when we didn't answer. I climb into the truck, so I don't alarm Rea, and try to find out what’s going on. The phone only sounds for half of a ring, before my aunt answers.

"Striker, oh thank God you called me back," Aunt Becky says in a panic.

"What's going on? Is everyone all right?" Her panic scares me.

"I can't find Max. He said he was going up to his room, but a half hour after he left us, I went to check on him and he's not there. I've looked everywhere." She sniffles and lets out a strained sob as her cries take over.

"Was he upset? He's never run off like this before." Where the hell could he have gone? This is my fault, he was upset about me taking Rea out, and I didn’t take his feelings serious enough.

"He didn't say much, but he looked so sad. Where could he be? I'm so worried," she replies.

"I don't know. I'll talk to Rea. We're on our way." I throw my phone onto the dash, and my feet hit the ground hard as I hop out of the truck. "Rea, come on we gotta go. Get dressed."

She sits up, turning her head in my direction, holding the blanket to her chest. "What happened?"

"My aunt called. Max is missing."

"WHAT?" She hops up, gathering her clothes. "Missing, how is he missing?"

We're both rushing around, gathering the few things we removed from one another.  "I don't know. He told Aunt Becky, he was going to his room, and when she went to check on him he was gone. She can't find him anywhere."

We scramble around for another minute, throwing all the drinks in the cooler, slamming the tailgate, and shoving the blankets into the back seat. In less than five minutes, we're seated in the truck and pulling off.

Rea is quiet on the ride back. My hand moves on its own to thread my fingers through hers, trying to offer comfort. She allows me to hold her hand in mine, but continues to look at the window, every so often reaching up with her free hand to wipe away a tear.

"He'll be okay, Rea. He couldn't have gone far." I try not to let my panic lace my words, but I know how angry he has been, angry enough to make rash decisions without thinking of a consequence.

Her sniffles break my heart, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just as upset about Max as she seems. He was trying to speak out to me earlier, and I didn't listen. I love time alone with Rea, but what if that's not what the kids need. When they reach out to us about their feelings, I need to hear them. I'm an ass for walking all over his tonight, and then I leave them with a woman they barely know. Those boys deserve two strong parent figures in their lives, who can provide them with what they need to heal. Trying to get with their mother right now isn't the right choice for them. She was trying to steer clear of me, and I had to act like a child and put my life first. It's time I step up and be the man that Dalton entrusted his children to.

Reagan

I've been so worried about the boys, Max mainly. I knew something felt off today. The thought of leaving my kids with Mrs. Knowles did not settle well with me, but I trusted Striker's opinion, and while I want to blame both of them for this, I can't. Max could have run off even if I was home. I know she would not neglect the kids. Even if she treated me badly in the past, she loved Dalton, and she looks at the boys with the same adoration in her eyes. My children are an extension of him, and I'm sure we all love the fact that a part of him lives on.

I didn't talk to Striker the entire ride back to the house, not because I'm mad at him, but because I need to think about what could be going through Max's head. If I can just get an idea of what he is feeling, then maybe it will lead the way to where he’s hiding. He's a good child, overly emotional and sensitive, but I understand that. It's part of his personality that makes you love him.

As we pull into the driveway, I'm surprised that Striker hasn't made an attempt to console me. It's rare for him. He's made it his role in our home to be the one patting each of us on the back, encouraging all of us to try and work on our feelings and move forward. I assume he feels guilty. I probably would too, but this isn't his fault. This was coming. I should have put the boys in therapy as soon as we found out about Dalton's prognosis. I was a fool to think that children so young could handle the emotions they feel, watching their father slowly die.

My selfish behaviors shine through once again, because I have a terrible habit of only being able to see how I'm feeling. Not anymore. I’m going to be the best person I can be for my family. I realized that to be better, and not lost in myself, I need to get out of the house more. Maybe I focus on me because I’m the only one around most days.

I need more adult interaction. I haven't told the boys or Striker yet, but I got a job at our local library. I'll only work three days a week but I can't wait, and the hours work out perfectly for the boys’ schedules. I won't start until the holidays are over, something I requested. I didn't want to throw one more thing in the mix to change our lives at the moment. Christmas will be hard enough.

The truck door slams, pulling from my thoughts. I watch Striker as he rounds the front of the truck. When his hand reaches my door handle, he stops, raising his eyes to meet mine. His eyes are full of pain and apologies. He pauses for a good minute and finally opens my door. I slide out, until my feet hit the ground. I can't help but reach out for him, placing my hand against his cheek. My touch causes his eyes to close, and a single tear squeezes from them.

His whisper is soft, barely audible, "I'm so sorry, Rea."

I move closer and wrap my arms around his waist. "Come on, Striker. It's not your fault. He can't be far. I'm scared, but I know we'll find him. He's a lot like me, and look at how often I used to run away to the woods."

I pull away, grabbing Striker's hand, and begin walking to our door. We don't even make it up the steps before Mrs. Knowles is yanking the front door open.

"Oh God, I'm so thankful you guys are back." She rushes toward me. "I'm so sorry. I never thought he would sneak out. I'm so worried."

I take her in before I answer. She's clearly upset. One arm is wrapped around her waist, while the other covers her mouth as she cries. I'm slowly starting to feel her panic, but I need to stay calm. It's the only way to keep my head clear, so I can find my son. "Did something happen? Did he say anything else?"

Shaking her head side to side, she responds, "No, nothing alarming, he just seemed very upset."

I walk past her and up to his room. Once inside, I begin my search, nothing out of the ordinary. I begin searching the rest of the house with no luck. I think back to when Max was small. He was always the most creative when playing hide and go seek. I wish today was just another simple game, but it seems lately we just can't win. The last place I check is Dalton's office. There's no sign of him here either.

The couch squeaks as I plop down on its softness. I bury my face in my hands and finally let my emotions take over. Tears brim my eyes for a moment before dripping onto my hands. They pool in my palms, and I feel the tickle from them rolling down my wrists. I don't know where to look. He doesn't have many friends, other than Kiley, and he hasn't seen her much outside of school, since Riley has disappeared on us.

"REA! REA!" Striker yells from down the hall.

My head snaps up just as Striker walks through the door. I jump up, anxious to hear why he's hollering for me. "Did you find him? Where's he at, Strike?"

He's shaking his head no as he answers. "I didn't find him, but I have an idea. Riley just called your cell. I answered thinking that she had Max, but then she asked if we've seen Kiley. They have to be together. Any idea where they would go?"

"What? Riley thought she was here?" I ask.

"She thought she came home from school with us. Maybe something happened today that fed into his bad mood in the car earlier." Striker raises his hands to his hair, tugging his fingers through until it stands on end.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I pace the room. Think, think, think. Where could they have gone? I feel a little bit better that they are together, but sometimes Kiley's behavior resembles her mother's, not in a sexual way, she's just impulsive. "Well, what did Riley say when she found out that Ki wasn't with us?"

"She said Kiley has been tough to handle lately, and she doesn't know what to do, that they've gone through a lot lately. She was going out to drive around." Striker walks over to the desk, leaning forward until his hands rest against the wood.

I walk over and place my hand on his back. "I'm going out to the garage to see if his bike is here."

Rushing out of the room, I pass through the kitchen, grabbing my cell from the counter, and dial Riley on my way to the garage.

"Rea, oh God. Have you found them?" Riley questions into the phone.

"No, but I'm checking to see if his bike is gone. Have you noticed if any of her things are missing?" I open the door to the garage. "His bike isn’t gone, but he must have met her somewhere."

"I'm already in the car. I'm going to check a place where I used to take her to cheer her up. It's not far from your house. Maybe she caught the bus back to your place, and then walked over." There's certainty in her voice as she speaks.

"Okay, I'll wait here. Call me after you know something." Once I end the call, I walk back into the living room. My other boys are seated on the couch with their grandmother.

Dylan stands when he sees me. "Any idea where he is, Ma?"

I walk over and give him a hug. "No, honey. Kiley isn't home either, so they must be together. Aunt Ri thinks she knows where they are. She's on her way there now."

"I'm sorry, Ma. I never heard him leave," Dylan says.

"Don't apologize, this isn't your fault. We'll find him. I promise." I release him, ruffle his hair, and walk into the kitchen, trying to busy myself while I wait for Riley's call.

I place a few dishes in the sink, resting my hands on its edge to support my weight. I'm physically and emotionally exhausted. How could Max do this? What if something happens to them while they're out there alone? I can't even begin to think about what that would do to our lives. I’ve finally started feeling like life is worth living again, and now this.

I feel a sick pit in my stomach. It's churning with worry and nothing will settle it. I just need my baby home, safe and sound. Strong hands fall into place next to mine on the counter, and Striker's chin comes down on my shoulder. I close my eyes, feeling his warmth, his closeness, but nothing will bring me peace. I feel anxiety coursing through my veins. Especially since I don't know where to begin looking if he's not where Riley thinks they are. What if he's not with Ki at all?

Striker's body tenses behind me. "Did you see that?"

I straighten up, on high alert. "What? What did you see?"

He moves from behind me and leans in closer to the kitchen window, which overlooks our backyard. "That. That right there."

What is he looking at? I can't see a thing outside; it's pitch black out there. "I have no idea what you see."

He pushes away from the counter and jogs toward the door. "There is a small light outside, just on the edge of the woods."

He's out of the kitchen before I can ask him another question. I chase after him, with the hope of finding my son. He's been gone for over two hours now, which may not be long, but when they disappear, five minutes can seem like an eternity.

The night air is frigid and he shouldn't be out here. I'm running as fast as I can. Striker is way ahead of me, but I hear him yell, "MAX!" I try to pick up my pace but my legs won't carry me any faster.

My heart is beating rapidly, but I'm not sure if it's from the possibility of Max being in the woods or from my unfit state. As I enter the edge of the woods, the light from the house dies, and it's almost too dark to see. I can barely see five feet in front of me, so I slow my pace. Walking cautiously now, I search around me. I don't know where Striker saw the light, and I'm afraid I'll head in the wrong direction. These woods are deep. The last thing I need to do right now is get lost in the cold, with no way of keeping warm.

"STRIKER!" I yell, hoping his voice will lead me in the right direction.

"Over here. I found them, Rea." He sounds relieved as he calls out to me.

I stop and look in the direction of his voice. There's a faint light shining ahead. The boys have made several paths throughout the years, and I've stayed walking along one, but to get to where they are I have to leave it. I'm slowly moving through the thick of the trees, dodging small twigs and branches along the way. I hear the faint sound of talking as I approach but can't make out what they’re saying yet.

I'm only a few feet away. Excitement and relief wash over me as I see the kids wrapped in Striker's arms. I can't help but let my excitement take over, causing my steps to become hurried. I just need to hold them and assure myself that they are okay. Then when I've satisfied that need, punishments are waiting for both of them.

Before I can correct my mistake, I feel pain shoot through my right ankle. My foot is hung up on a tree root, as my body falls to the ground. I catch myself on my hands and knees, saving myself from any other injury. My ankle throbs as I try to right myself and stand.

Striker rushes over. "Rea, you okay?"

He reaches out and I place my hands in his, accepting his support.

"Mom! Are you okay?" Max asks.

I don't know whether to tell him how much I love him, or to scream at him for causing all of us to worry, when he's been in the backyard this whole time. I reach down with one hand, grabbing the back of his neck and pull him to me. "I'm so angry with you right now, Max, but I'm glad you guys are okay. Don't ever wander off like this again. You can't just disappear without a word."

"I'm sorry, Mom," Max cries into my chest.

"Now, you two, grab all your things and we'll talk about this at the house," I say, trying to keep a stern tone.

Yup, now that I know he's safe, I could beat him for making all of us worry like he did. I let go of Max, still gripping onto Striker with my other hand. We watch as the kids clean up their makeshift living area of blankets, bottled water, and bags of chips. They wouldn't have lasted long out here, based on their snacks alone. They walk back over to us with all their belongings cradled in their arms.

My ankle is still throbbing, but I try to walk anyway. I tighten my hold onto Striker, because the pain is excruciating, but I want to get back to the house and talk to the kids. Why were they hiding in the woods? I'm stumbling and hobbling along the way. We make it a few feet out of the woods and into the yard. The pain is getting worse the further we go, and my leg grows weak. I stop, hanging on to Striker's arm as I try to grin and bear the pain.

"Come here, Rea." Striker reaches down, lifting me up from under both of my knees. His other arm is under my shoulders, and I'm cradled against his chest. "I've never been so happy and angry at the same time in my entire life. I saw those two sitting in the woods, and I wanted to hug them and yell at the same time."

I chuckle at him. "I felt the same way. Welcome to parenthood."

"I haven't been upset with any of the kids. This shit is new to me, but right now I want to punish him for years." There's a slight smile to his lips, and I wonder what's put it there.

"Why are you smirking?" I ask, and brush my fingers across his lips.

His smile falls. "I was worried he left because of me, but he only left to be with Kiley. He said she needed him, and she didn't want to be around any parents."

I inhale a deep breath through my nose, curious as to why she would want to hide, and fearful to what it might mean. I've always worried for Kiley's safety, with Riley's impulsive behavior, and the random men she brings into the house. Lately she's been doing great, at least I thought. It's hard to imagine what could be going on in their home that would make Kiley run away. "That worries me."

"What do you think is going on with Kiley? Something bad is going on over there." Striker's brow creases.