Home > The Storm (The Storm #3.5)(6)

The Storm (The Storm #3.5)(6)
Author: Samantha Towle

She’s the other half of me.

The best half of me.

“I don’t want this boy to be yours.” Her voice catches, and tears creep in her eyes. “But the mother in me…I keep thinking, if it were JJ, Billy, or Belle…I just can’t bear the thought of a child being alone without his mother. And…” She moistens her dry lips with her tongue. “Whatever happens, Jake, I’m right by your side. I’m always by your side.”

And fuck if I don’t love her more than I have in all the years combined in this moment.

“What did I do to deserve you?” My voice is hoarse, and the lump in my throat is the size of Texas.

“You just got lucky, I guess.” Lifting her shoulders, she gives me a gentle teasing smile.

I press my lips to hers, reverently kissing her, like she deserves to be kissed, how she should always be kissed. I know she deserves better than me, but I’m selfish and I want her. I just pray to God that she doesn’t wake up one day and realize this.

“You taste like the past,” she murmurs against my lips.

I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, and right now, I’m afraid to ask. Then, her grip on my hair tightens, and her thighs clamp around mine. She kisses me harder, and I know it’s a good thing.

When she parts from my lips, I’m hard, and I want to be inside her. No matter what’s happening or going on in our lives, I always want her. Nothing eases my mind or body like being buried deep inside Tru.

She places her hands against my cheeks, locking eyes with me. “I know I’m not perfect.”

“I think you’re pretty fucking perfect.”

A small smile touches her lips as she gently shakes her head.

“I’m going to feel cheated that JJ…that he isn’t your firstborn child. I might want to shout and scream, and I might hate the thought of how this will affect our kids, but I’m going to do my best to hold back my feelings and find a way for us to get through this. So, what I’m trying to say is…I know this isn’t going to be easy, Jake, and I might feel hurt and angry if this boy is yours—”

“He’s not mine.”

She pauses, giving me a look. “You can’t be sure of that.”

“Yeah, I can.”

“Nothing in this life is a surety, Jake.”

“The way I feel about you is. I’ve loved you my whole life, Tru. There hasn’t been a single second in it when I haven’t loved you, and I’ll continue to love you until my fucking black soul is dragged from this earth, kicking and screaming to hell. Then, I’ll continue to love you from there.”

“Your soul is not black. And you’re not going to hell.” There’s a touch of laughter in her voice.

Knowing I’ve eased her hurt, even for a split second, has me feeling worthy of her—even if just for that split second.

“Well, I sure as fuck ain’t going to heaven, sweetheart. Look…” I take ahold of her hand, pressing my lips to the palm, sliding my fingers between hers. I hold it against my face and stare deep into her eyes.

Looking into Tru’s eyes wrecks me, but it’s a wreckage I would happily go down with. I will go anywhere with her, do anything for her.

“I know you’re trying to look at all the angles so you can ready yourself for this. But I’m telling you, there’s nothing to ready yourself for. That kid isn’t mine.” I express the confidence in my words through my eyes to hammer the point home.

She gazes at me for a long moment. Then, closing her eyes on a blink, she releases a soft sigh. “You want him to be Jonny’s. That’s why you’re so adamant that he’s not yours.”

Fuck.

Tru always can see right through me.

She’s staring at me, and now, I can’t bring myself to look at her.

So, I look past her, at the City of Angels spread out behind her.

“Is that wrong?” I whisper the words.

She runs her thumb over my cheek. “No. It’s understandable. But, Jake…you…we need to prepare ourselves for the fact that he could be yours.”

Releasing her hand, I press my face into the hollow of her neck, my hands sliding up her back to bring her as close to me as I can. Even then, it’s not close enough.

I need more. I will always need more when it comes to her.

And I stay there, silent, breathing against her skin, inhaling her sweet scent.

No matter how much I might want to say it over and over again, telling her there’s no chance that he’s mine, she’s right.

There is that slim possibility that he could be mine.

And, honestly, I don’t know what the fuck to do with that.

-Uploaded by Em's EORD-

I watch Tru sleeping beside me.

The house is quiet, empty of the kids.

We should be tearing this place up, having crazy fucking sex in every room, like we used to before the kids came along.

Instead, I’m lying here, running all the what-ifs through my mind. Going over my past, I’m trying to remember this Tiffany chick who could potentially be the mother of my child. Pent-up aggression and frustration flow through me.

“Can’t sleep?” Tru’s soft voice surprises me.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

“Trying to—unsuccessfully. I can hear the wheels turning in your mind. You wanna talk some more?”

Talk is all we’ve done

Talk and then have bouts of silence until neither of us could bear it. Then, when Tru suggested going to bed, I nearly sighed with relief.

I never thought we’d be here, that this would be us.

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