“It will destroy your brothers if you ignore what happened today.”
“I don’t plan on ignoring it, sweet girl.”
“End the secrets, Sir. If they have to continue to live with this secret. They may look like big, strong men now, but inside they are still letting her hurt them.”
“They’re still protecting her.”
“Yeah, but who is protecting them?”
He exhales hard.
As he contemplates, moments move between us with the breeze and the stale Stormy River air.
Finally, Clay says, “My pretty little queen.” He leans down and runs his nose against the curve of my neck, breathing me in hard. “Strong and confident and full of opinions. Using her voice.”
Beaming at my mother’s grave, accepting her ideals and my own inner strength, at peace withme, I cuddle my middle, cradling my stomach. “Because ofyourbaby in my belly, Sir.”
“No, sweet girl.” His arms sweep over mine to mirror my position. My heart expands in my ribcage, hope streams through my veins, and our future grows in my womb. “Yourpower has nothing to do with me, little deer.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
clay
Staringat her through the glass French doors, I’m tense with the small distance between us. Knowing the profound things taking part inside of her, knowing whatIput inside her, my responsibility, draws me to her like gravity. My pretty little queen. My child.
Mine.
I loved her first.
And I’ll worship what she gives me.
Everything my father said to me is true; missing her swell, becoming a mother, raising our children, would be the worst kind of suffering.
And her mother missed everything. Her whole young life. She left her alone. To survive.
I won’t do that—can’t even bear the thought of her alone and huddled in our bed with a swollen stomach.
And dammit, I won’t share those moments either, outsource them, have others protect her, dote on her, so I can work in the city. Unacceptable. I refuse to miss a moment, refuse to have her live a similar life to her younger self, alone and wanting her mother—I will be present.
Liable.
Madonna Mia.
I’m going to resign as mayor.
I draw my cigar in, the ember eating at the paper, and watch my young pregnant girl play with her white kitten.
My little deer is so many things. At first glance, she’s fragile and delicate, playing on the floor with a creature she matches. Yet, two days ago, she was trekking through a burnt forest to protect my brother. This morning, she was taking my feral thrusts to calm and settle the volatility inside me. And mere hours ago, she was counselling me with wisdom far beyond her age… How the world put her together so flawlessly, it’s hard to fathom such a perfect creature.
She is made for me.
Innocence.
Resilience.
Determination.
Sexual submission.