Key to Hell (Hell Night Series Book 4), page 28
I witness the indecision warring in his eyes, but after a moment, he nods. He brings the tip back to my entrance and pushes just the head inside before pausing. In the back of my mind, I realize I should be worried that it’s been so long and it may hurt a little, but I know it won’t matter. I know Aziah will take care with me.
He pushes in another inch, and my insides spasm around him. He groans, low and deep, his eyes sliding halfway closed. I lift my hips from the bed, taking in more of him. Grabbing the underside of my thigh, he hikes my leg up higher on his hip.
“Oh, Aziah,” I whimper, my body lighting on fire.
He bares his teeth and slides in another couple of inches. I feel deliciously full as my walls stretch to accommodate him.
“Rella,” he breathes, his eyes still fixed on me.
He flexes his hips until I feel them resting against the back of my thighs. He stops, his breaths coming harsh and labored.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes flickering back and forth between mine.
I smile. “I’m more than fine.” Other than a slight discomfort at the beginning and feeling incredibly full of him, it didn’t hurt.
Relief flashes on his face before he dips down for another kiss. He puts his other elbow on the bed beside my head and cages me in his protective bubble. Pulling his hips back, he slowly presses forward again, creating a splendid friction that has me moaning and panting and needing more.
His eyes smolder with heat as he whispers, “You feel incredibly perfect.”
I rock my hips into his. “So do you. I knew it would be like this with you.”
Pleasure flares in his eyes and he flexes his hips, the root of his shaft hitting my special spot.
Aziah makes love to me, his movements slow and steady, until I see stars in my eyes. Something’s happening deep in my stomach. Something I’ve never felt before, but something I know will be beautiful.
My stomach flutters and my legs grow numb. My mouth drops open and a loud cry leaves my lips when an explosion of pleasure rips through me, leaving me incoherent and utterly boneless.
Aziah grunts, his movements strengthening, but no less careful. I’m captivated by the rapturous look on his face as he finds the same pleasure he just gave me.
“I love you,” he says, his voice filled with wonder.
I look up into the eyes of the man I know I’ll love until my last breath, and know he’ll love me until the last beat of his heart.
Leaning up, I kiss him, then murmur against his lips, “I love you too.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
EMO
I STUFF MY HANDS IN MY pockets and watch the flame lick up the side of the structure, enjoying the heat on my face and the crackle of the fire as it slowly burns away the last remnants of my past. It’s poetic that his body is inside. He loved this fucking cabin. Loved even more bringing me here so he could do every twisted thing his fucked-up mind could conjure up. Every other escaped adult from Sweet Haven we exact vengeance on gets an unmarked place in the ground. Not my father’s mutilated corpse though. He doesn’t even deserve that.
I look over at Judge and nod.
“May Lucifer welcome you with open arms,” he says grimly, starting the dictum we normally reserve for the Finishings. Although Deacon won’t receive the four fatal shots or be put in an unmarked grave, I find the dictum fitting for him.
“And deliver you to the darkest pits of hell,” I add ominously.
“To live out an eternity for the evil deeds you’ve bestowed,” JW recites.
“Shall you not rest in peace,” Trouble finishes.
I pull the key from my pocket and stare down at it, rubbing my thumb over the grooves. There’s still dried blood on it from the hundreds of times I’ve used it against my flesh.
I don’t think the urge to slice into my flesh will ever fully go away—I’ve still got too many demons inside me that demands attention—but they’re not as loud and dominant as before.
“How does it feel?” Trouble asks from beside me.
“Like I can finally fuckin’ breathe.”
I toss the key into the flames, feeling a sense of calm.
“I’m going to marry your sister,” I inform him.
“Is that so?”
I glance over, finding his amused gaze on me. “Yes.”
“Are you asking for permission or telling me?”
“Love you, brother, and I respect the hell out of you. Rella would be devastated if she didn’t have your blessing. But that won’t stop me from making her mine.”
His mouth tips up on one side. “Well, then I guess you’ll not only be my brother in spirit, but also by law.”
“Shit,” JW mutters on the other side of Trouble. “Emo getting married. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“He picked a damn good woman to do it with though,” Judge comments.
“Damn straight,” Trouble inserts.
The three of them chuckle, but I find no amusement in their words. There’s one thing I realized over the last couple of days. Rella was right. I’ll never understand why she chose me, and I’ll never be worthy of her, but there’s not a person I trust over myself to watch over and care for her. My brothers would protect her above everything and give their life for her, especially Trouble, but at the end of the day, their own women and children’s lives would trump hers. Just the way it should be. There’s nothing and no one more important than the woman you love. They’d give their own life for Rella, but I’d give anyone’s life for her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
RELLA
I ROLL THE PAINT ROLLER up and down the wall, feeling little specks of paint landing on my arm. After covering the last strip of old paint with a pretty light purple, I lean back and inspect my progress. I smile, feeling pleased with my work. Once the molding at the top has been trimmed, this room will officially be done.
It’s been three months since Aziah’s and my lives changed for the better. The week after he killed his father and finally came to his senses about us being together, he started working on his house. He refused to let me live here until the master bedroom was gutted and remodeled. He finished that room a month and a half ago, where, up until that point, I continued to stay with Trouble and Remi. Since then, we’ve been working hard on the rest of the house. The only thing that’s left to do besides the outside is the spare bathroom and the laundry-slash-mudroom.
I put the lid back on the paint can and beat it down with a hammer to make sure it’s closed all the way. After, I take the roller to the kitchen and spend the next ten minutes rinsing it out. Why is it so freaking time-consuming to rinse out a paint roller? It’s like there’s never-ending paint in it.
I’m just finishing up changing from my paint-splattered clothes when I hear the front door open and close. Aziah has been gone all morning, having to drive to San Antonio to pick up more supplies for the house. It’s pathetic and probably even clingy, but I’ve been anxiously waiting for him to get back.
I leave the room, walking quickly down the hall, impatient to see him, but come to an abrupt stop. My jaw drops and my eyes widen as I stare at him standing just inside the door with a baby in his arms and a lavender bag over his shoulder. My eyes move to the little boy standing beside him, his curious but wary eyes on me. He looks about five years old.
My shocked gaze jumps back to Aziah. “Aziah? What… what’s going on?”
Tucking the baby closer to his chest, he rests one gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder and moves him forward. He doesn’t stop until he’s directly in front of me. I look down at the baby, my heart melting when I see a little girl sleeping.
“This is Angelina,” he murmurs quietly. “And this is her big brother, Joseph.”
I look down at the little boy with dark-blond hair and big, beautiful blue eyes. Squatting down, I smile softly at him.
“Hey, sweetie. It’s nice to meet you. My name is Rella.”
His smile comes slower and is tentative, revealing a missing canine tooth. “Hi.”
“I really like your shirt.” I point to the Avengers logo.
“Thanks,” he mutters.
“Which Avenger is your favorite?”
He scuffs his shoe on the floor, his eyes pointed down. “Captain America.”
“He’s my favorite too.” He looks up, interest lighting his expression. “I bet you want to be just like him when you grow up, huh?”
He breaks into a smile and he nods enthusiastically. “Uh-huh.”
My grin grows. “How old are you, Joseph?”
He holds up one hand, revealing all of his fingers. “Five.”
“Wow! That’s a lot. Before you know it, you’ll be getting little whiskers on your face.”
He giggles and my heart melts into a puddle at his feet.
I stand, my eyes moving back to the little girl. She’s absolutely beautiful and so tiny.
My eyes jerk up to Aziah when I remember something. “You said her name is Angelina. Is she…?” I trail off, refusing to say my thoughts in front of Joseph. The last information Aziah gave me about the baby that Gabriela and Marco were trying to adopt was she still wasn’t given a home. There was never any mention of her having a brother though.
“Yes.”
I look back down at her, my heart racing in my chest, desperate hope making itself known. Before I can even ask, Aziah’s moving Angelina into my arms. Her sweet baby scent fills my senses.
“I need to grab a couple of things out of the car,” Aziah announces. “You want to help, bud?”
I barely register them walking away, leaving the front door open behind them. I’m utterly captivated as I stare down at the beautiful little girl in my arms. I can’t stop looking at her cute chubby cheeks, the tiny red veins in her closed eyelids, her thin lashes, and her little button nose. Everything about her is perfect.
I carry her over to the couch. When my butt settles on the cushion, she releases the cutest little yawn I’ve ever seen and slowly opens her eyes. They’re blue, matching her brother’s.
I smile down at her, running the pad of my finger down her smooth cheek.
“Hey there,” I coo softly. “Aren’t you just the sweetest thing ever.”
She stares back at me, seemingly just as transfixed with me as I am with her.
I reluctantly pull my eyes away from her when Aziah and Joseph come back into the house. Aziah carries a bouncy chair and a couple of brown paper bags, setting them down beside the couch, while Joseph, bless his heart, carries a box. It’s clearly too big for his little arms, but there’s a determined and proud look on his face. Aziah takes it from him and sets it to the floor before glancing at me, amusement written in his eyes.
He shrugs. “I told him to carry the bouncy chair, but he insisted on carrying the box.”
I giggle, moving my eyes to Joseph, who looks like he’s trying to stand taller. I’m already in love with the little man.
Aziah approaches me, a small smile on his face as he looks from me to Angelina and back to me. I gaze at him, my eyebrows raised, wondering exactly what’s going on. I refuse to give myself hope, but I feel it seeping in.
“Hey, Joseph, you mind watching your little sister while Rella and I talk a few minutes?”
“Sure.”
I set the little girl down in the bouncy seat, making sure the buckles are secure and not too tight. Joseph sits down beside her cross-legged, already twirling one of the toys hanging from the bar on the seat.
I can’t tear my eyes away from them. They’re both so precious. Unfortunately, Aziah grabs my hand and forces me to walk to the entrance to the kitchen. We’re far enough away where Joseph won’t hear us, but still in viewing distance.
“Neither of their dads are in the picture,” Aziah starts. “The mom was a drug addict. She had copious amounts of heroin in her system when she delivered Angelina at only thirty-four weeks. She left the hospital the next day, leaving Angelina behind. She was found dead in an alleyway a couple of days later. It was a week before they found Joseph staying with one of the mom’s druggy friends.”
“Oh my God.” I cover my mouth with my hand. “Those poor babies.”
He tugs me closer by my hand, one arm loosely settling around my waist.
“The heroin use affected the development of Angelina’s heart. She has a ventricular septal defect; a hole in her heart.” Tears immediately fill my eyes, and my chest tightens painfully. “The hole is small and the doctors are hopeful it’ll close on its own, but because of that, the chances of her being adopted are slim. Most couples want a healthy baby. Joseph may be young, but he’s fiercely protective of his little sister and has become hysterical when someone mentions him being taken away from her and adopted into a family.”
I look over at the brother and sister in the living room. Joseph is on his knees, a smile on his face as he makes funny faces at Angelina. He bends down and wiggles his nose in her stomach, making a growly sound. Little Angelina kicks her tiny legs, her gummy smile big as her brother plays with her. It’s plain to see Joseph loves his little sister very much. My heart aches to reach out to them. To hold them and protect them both.
It makes me sick and shoots hot anger through me at the thought that Marco and Gabriela almost had her in their clutches. And poor Joseph almost lost his baby sister and would have probably never known the horrors she would have endured.
Aziah’s hand runs up and down my back soothingly. “They’re ours if you want them,” he says quietly.
I close my eyes, letting his words sink in. I had hoped that’s where this was leading, but was still fearful it wasn’t.
I tip my head back and look at him, tears swimming in my eyes. My voice is scratchy and my throat feels like there’s something lodged inside it when I say, “Want them? I already love them.”
He wraps both arms around me and lifts me up, pressing his lips to mine in a sweet but brief kiss. Once I’m on my feet, I glance at Joseph and Angelina before bringing my eyes back to Aziah, gazing at him in wonder.
“How is this possible? I thought it took months to adopt a child. And don’t I have to sign papers or something? I thought they only allowed married couples to adopt?”
“We’ve made a lot of friends over the years. Through them, we were able to cut corners and speed things along. And we have an appointment for you to go sign the papers tomorrow. As far as being married….” He cups my cheek, his black eyes looking deeply into mine. “Due to the chances of Angelina being adopted being so slim and the influence of a friend, we were given special approval. But… I hope one day….”
I’m already nodding, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Yes. I’d marry you tomorrow at the courthouse if you wanted to.”
He shakes his head. “No. You deserve so much more than a simple courthouse wedding.”
“I’m going to be a Momma,” I marvel. It’s been one of my biggest dreams, and then one of my greatest grievances when I thought I would never have children.
“You’re going to be a wonderful momma.” I smile so big I worry my face may split in two.
“And you’ll be the best father.”
His brows dip, as if he’s unsure I speak the truth.
I get up on my tiptoes, putting our faces closer. “You wanna know why I know you’ll be the best father?” He jerks his chin up. “Because you had one of the worst childhoods. You were abused in every way imaginable. You know how much it hurts. You’ll know how to love them unconditionally.”
He crushes me to him, his arms tight around my waist. I hold him just as securely. When he lets go, I turn in his arms and lean against his chest.
My heart is fuller than it’s ever been before as we both watch our new little family.
EMO
I SIT ON THE BLANKET, my knees bent and my legs spread to accommodate Rella. She’s holding Angelina up under her arms, helping her stand on her thighs. She coos at the little girl, every sound she makes filled with love. To say being a mother came natural to Rella is a big understatement. She took to motherhood like she’s been doing it for years. And both children absolutely adore her.
“You’re doing so good, Angel,” Rella praises. “Momma’s so proud of you.”
Angelina grins and starts bouncing up and down, making Rella laugh.
The paperwork is complete. I brought Angelina and Joseph home two months ago. A month after that, everything was finalized. Joseph and Angelina Williams became Joseph and Angelina Masters. They were officially ours. Rella cried like a baby when I handed her the papers. I felt a huge sense of pride and honor.
The next day, Joseph called Rella Momma for the first time. Of course, she cried like a baby again. We don’t know a lot about his past with his mother, but since she was a heroin addict and lived from one house to another, we have a pretty good guess that his life wasn’t good. As far as we can tell, there wasn’t any type of physical or sexual abuse. Thank fuck.
“Hey, Mom, Dad!” Joseph calls, and we both look at him a few feet away. It’s still strange hearing him call me Dad. In a good way. “Can I go play in the sandbox with Lewis?”
“Are Trouble and Remi still there with Elijah?” Rella asks.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, sweetie. Have fun. And no throwing any sand!” she calls after he runs off.
Angelina squeals in her lap, and Rella goes back to cooing to her. I love watching her with both children, but a little bit more so with Angelina.
A few minutes later, Remi shows up. “You mind if I take the little angel for a while? I need some sweet girl time since I’m surrounded by boys all day.”
Rella laughs and kisses the tip of Angelina’s nose before turning her to face Remi. “Sure. Just don’t take away all her sweetness before you bring her back.”
Remi walks up the two steps and smiles at Angelina as she scoops her up. Rella hands Boo to Remi. Angelina has become attached to Rella’s old stuffed rabbit, almost as much as Rella used to be.
“Not possible. This precious girl is just full to bursting with sweetness.” She rubs her nose against our daughter’s. “I’ll have her back in a bit. Enjoy your time together.” She winks before she walks off, talking gibberish to Angelina as she goes.
