“I know what they are, Reese.”
“Excellent. I couldn’t carry the big ones on the bike, but the smaller ones are great, too. I’ll give you a head start ’cause you’re new at this.”
With that I pulled out the plastic gun I’d brought for her with a flourish. It was neon orange and green, and it held about two cups of water. More than enough for a good fight, especially since we’d be in the river. Easy to reload.
Her mouth dropped.
“Did you seriously bring me up here for a water fight? I thought this was a romantic weekend?”
I cocked a brow at her.
“Sweetheart, you gotta look at this from my perspective. I shoot right, your T-shirt gets all wet and then I get to roll around with you in the water. Tell me that isn’t romantic?”
London snorted, but I could see a hint of playfulness in her eyes. Yeah, she was on board. I tossed her the gun and turned away.
“You got until I hit a hundred,” I told her loudly. “And you’ll do better if you ditch your shoes. The rocks aren’t sharp but they’re slippery, and there’s lots of places where you can only walk in the water. Now run, unless you want it to be a real short game. Upriver there’s a pool where we can swim, and if you get there before I catch you, you win. If you hit me with your gun, I have to stop and count to ten again. If I hit you, I get a kiss. One. Two. Three. Four …”
Because I’m an asshole, I stopped at fifty. No reason to make it too easy for her.
Turning toward the river, I looked upriver. Couldn’t see her, which wasn’t a huge surprise. The swimming hole was only about half a mile away, but it took longer to get there than you’d think because of the rocks and the way the Pack twisted around. I leaned down and filled my gun, then pumped it up, ready for action as I started up the river.
Five minutes later I still hadn’t seen her. There were a lot of ways to play the game—if she just booked ahead as fast as possible, she’d probably beat me. But that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun, and I knew London.
She wouldn’t be able to resist an ambush.
The first one hit out of nowhere. I’d just come around a bend when cold water slammed me in the side of the head. I heard her laughing hysterically, but I closed my eyes and started counting. Fast. Now I knew she was nearby and I listened carefully for the sound of splashing. When I opened them again, she was still in range, so I lifted my gun and shot her in the back.
She turned toward me shrieking.
“You cheat, you didn’t count to t—”
I shot her in the face before she could finish the sentence, then started toward her through the water. Walking across the smooth, round rocks was awkward, but I have long legs, so it didn’t take long.
“I counted fast,” I told her smugly. “And you owe me two kisses.”
She glared at me, but when I caught the back of her neck and pulled her in to claim my prize, she didn’t protest. After long seconds we broke apart, gasping for air. Her wet shirt clung tightly to her tits.
Outstanding.
Then she leaned forward to kiss me this time. I closed my eyes, savoring the delicate touch of her lips and—
“Holy fuck!”
Bitch shot me in the cock with her gun, point blank.
London started laughing and took off up the river, shouting back at me.
“You count for real this time, asshole! Otherwise I’m taking your gun away from you.”
By the time we reached the little pool, both of us were soaking wet, so no real point in keeping our clothes on. It was only about three feet deep and maybe ten feet across, so we couldn’t really swim, either—fine with me. Instead we sort of splashed each other, then wrestled, and then the next thing I knew I was sitting under a waterfall while London rode my cock.
Best. Game. Ever.
Later that night I lay on my back, looking up at the stars, London tucked into my arm, one hand across my chest.
“I wish we could just stay out here forever,” she murmured softly. “Where nobody can find us and we don’t have to do anything. God, the girls are driving me crazy.”
“Mellie will be gone soon,” I reminded her. Above us a star shot by, then then another. “Heather and I used to come up here every year at this time for the Perseids shower. You see that? They’ll be falling all night.”
“Yup, I saw it,” she whispered. “Do you think about her a lot?”
I considered the question, trying to find the right words.
“Sometimes. But I think about you a lot more. After she died I swore I’d never take another old lady. Just couldn’t wrap my head around it, not until now. But it’s right with us, isn’t it? You feel it, too.”
She didn’t answer for a second.
“I feel it, too,” she agreed.
“You ready to make it official?” I asked. She shook her head, rubbing her hair against me. Smelled good.
“Not yet. I know this sounds silly, but let’s keep this ours for a bit longer. Just a little secret we don’t have to share with anyone else. Everyone counts on us all the time and that’s not going to go away … but for now, let’s not give them this.”
I hesitated. I wanted things out in the open, wanted everyone to know London was my woman for real. Fuckin’ proud of her. But I understood, too.
“End of the summer, then? Only about two weeks left, sweetheart.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“How much longer you gonna stay in that tiny little cabin when I got a whole house just waitin’ for you?”
She gave a snort of frustration.
“The day Mellie moves out, I’m packin’ my shit. I’m losing my mind there.”
“What about Jessica?”
“She actually has plans, believe it not. I’m sort of torn about them. I want her with me … but I also know she won’t be happy out at your place. She isn’t ready to get back into life like that just yet. But I’m really proud of her for realizing she has to move forward, make her own decisions.”
“Really? What’s she gonna do with herself?”
“She’s moving in with Maggs Dwyer.”
“Bolt’s old lady?”
“No, Bolt’s ex,” she said firmly. “She’s pretty emphatic about that detail. She runs a program at the community center for special-needs children. Jess has been volunteering there for a couple of years, and she’s decided to enroll in the early-childhood education program down at the college. Maggs is giving her a part-time job and a room to rent. It’s perfect in a lot of ways.”
“Bolt won’t like that,” I mused. “He’s tryin’ to get back with her. Havin’ Jess around won’t make things easier.”
“Not Bolt’s decision.”
Fair enough.
“So two weeks and you’re all mine.”
She nodded, giving a yawn. “Assuming you still want me.”
“Fuck yeah, I want you.”
She made a happy little snuffling noise and we fell silent again. Another meteor streaked overhead. London’s breathing slowed as she drifted off.
Hey, babe, Heather whispered. Remember coming here together? Two little girls snuggled up between us, watching the stars shooting all night? You told them they were people riding up to heaven on rockets.
Yeah, I remember.
I remembered everything, although sometimes I wished I could erase those memories because they hurt so bad. Tonight, though? Tonight they were beautiful.
She’s good for you—this is what I wanted. Someday when Em and Kit have kids, you bring them up here for me, will you? Tell them Grandma Heather’s watching over them … Then tell them Grandma London’s gonna give ’em extra loves, because they’re such special kids they deserve double.
I swallowed. London stirred next to me, and I took in her scent. Clean and fresh, her hair still just a little damp from the river.
I’ll always miss you, I told Heather. But it’s time to let you go.
She didn’t answer.
Another star shot by in the darkness, and London raised her head.
“You okay, Reese?”
“I love you.”
Silence.
“You’ve never said that to me before.”
“Wasn’t ready. I’m ready now.”
“I love you, too.”
She settled back into my body, and I felt right in a way I’d almost forgotten existed. Darkness surrounded us, broken only by the meteor shower. I waited for Heather to say something. Nothing.
Now it was just London and me.
Felt good.
Epilogue
THIRTEEN MONTHS LATER
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
PUCK
“Can’t decide—should I get drunk first and then get laid, or the other way around?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Puck muttered, staring at the ceiling. He lay back on the top bunk, trying to ignore the annoying mouth breather he and Painter shared a cell with. At least they had a cell. Given how crowded the prison was, half the guys didn’t have any space of their own at all.
“Yeah, I’m gonna start with sex,” Fester continued, oblivious to the threat in Puck’s voice. The guy was a complete moron, but at least he was harmless. Over the past year, he and Painter had needed to fight off the cartel boys at least once a month. An annoying cell mate was better than getting shanked in your sleep. “There’s this chick I saw once who—”
“If you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I’ll cut off your dick,” Puck muttered. Fester laughed, because they’d had this same conversation at least once a day for the past six months. But today they were in lockdown, which meant Puck couldn’t get away from the little shit.
Painter snorted in amusement across the room, because he knew exactly how much the man got on Puck’s nerves.
“How ’bout that girl of yours?” Fester asked Painter, shifting directions abruptly. “She have anything interesting to say? I always think about her in that blue sundress she was wearin’ in that one picture. You know, the one where her tits were sorta pokin’ through? I swear to fuck, those were her nipples. They taste good? I’ll bet they taste good.”
Puck closed his eyes and shook his head. Fester had no fuckin’ sense of self-preservation at all. Painter didn’t like questions about his girl. This was not new territory.
“You say one more word and I’ll kill you on the spot,” Painter replied, his voice like stone. “She’s not my girl and whatever you think you saw, you forget. You’re not good enough to look at her picture, asshole.”
“Sorry, Painter,” Fester said quickly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bother you. You just keep readin’ your letter and I’ll go over here for a while. Maybe draw a picture or somethin’.”
“You do that,” Painter said, then Puck heard Fester move across the room, followed by the sounds of crayons dumping out across the desk. Man had the mind of an eight year old, no joke. Puck wondered how he’d survive when they got out in two weeks, but he didn’t put too much energy into it. Fester was like a cockroach—he’d find a way.
“Any news from home?” Puck asked, although “home” wasn’t really the right word. Painter’d gotten a packet of notes and pictures from Coeur d’Alene, all gathered together by one of the Reapers’ old ladies and sent down at once.
“Not really,” he said. “Looks like Bolt and Maggs are back together.”
Puck grunted, trying to remember who Maggs was. Bolt he remembered, but they hadn’t talked much. He’d only been in Coeur d’Alene a few days before everything fell to shit. After their first four months inside together, Painter had suggested he come prospect with the Reapers when he got out. Wouldn’t be happening. Puck’s dad had been a Silver Bastard, and that’s who he wanted to ride with.
Assuming he ever got to ride again.
“Mellie got a scholarship,” Painter added after a few minutes. “Says she’s excited, because it means she won’t have to work during school this year.”
Puck grinned, but he didn’t say shit. Painter had it bad for the girl—pussy whipped, despite the fact he’d never even gotten a whiff. He’d never fall for that, no fuckin’ way. Life was hard enough without some bitch whinin’ all the time.
Not only that, who wanted to pick just one?
The warning bell rang for lights out, and Fester scrabbled around, presumably picking up his crayons. Freak had a talent for drawing, strangely enough. He could draw pictures of anything, all shaded and complicated and shit. Puck wouldn’t have thought you could pull that off with crayons, but what did he know?
The lights went out and Puck closed his eyes, ignoring the howls and moans of inmates up and down the block. This was the best time in prison. He might be stuck in a concrete box with Painter and their pet fuckwit, but with the lights off he could imagine being somewhere else. Outside.
Get drunk first or get laid?
Damned fine question, he had to admit. Christ, but he missed women. Specifically, he missed fucking them … But he also missed their softness, and the way—when he smiled just right—their eyes went all liquid and they’d do whatever the hell he asked, no matter how fucked up it might be.
Okay, laid first.
He tried to picture the girl. Blonde? Dark hair? Fuck, he didn’t care. He’d start out with a blow job, and then move on to her pussy, maybe eat her out. Yeah, that’d be good. His cock twitched and he lifted his hips, sliding down his pants. On the bunk below him Fester grunted, breaking the spell—but not for long. Puck ignored him, palming his dick and squeezing tight.