Atonement, page 16
She bends closer to me and kisses me. Silencing me. Hearing me. Maybe even forgiving me.
I gather her to my chest, and we stay like that for long moments.
I finally break the silence. “So… are you still leaving?” I ask in a teasing tone.
She exhales. “Leaving?” she says, as if the very idea’s preposterous. “And leave that sweet puppy and truck behind?”
“They’re yours, though. Take them with you.”
She laughs. “Surely not. I’m not taking anything with me that reminds me of you.”
She lifts her head and braces herself with a hand on each of my shoulders. “Every day, I’d remember you. Every day, I’d want to be with you. Every day, I’d fight the urge to come back.” She shrugs with forced nonchalance. “So, I decided it’s best to not even leave to begin with.”
It feels as if I can breathe again. As if I can see again. I feel as if she’s given me new life.
“Cain,” she whispers. “You say that it’s hard to forgive yourself. Maybe if I’m here with you… and I’ve forgiven you… then we can teach each other how it’s done?”
“Now that is a deal I can handle.” I hold her face in my hands and take my time brushing my lips across hers. I groan at the taste of her, the feel of her so close to me like this. “I’m sorry, baby. I love you.”
“And I love you,” she says. “No more apologizing. This is all behind us. Everything. Now we’re just two people who can’t stand to be apart from each other. Deal?”
I grin. “Deal. I thought you’d leave when this was all said and done. I thought maybe once you’d gotten what you needed and had no reason to be here anymore, you’d maybe leave. You’re too strong and independent to be held in any one place for too long.”
“Oh, you give me plenty of reasons for staying, and it has nothing to do with your dogs, your amazing team, the location of this house, or the fact that I can train whenever I want to and go to bed at night properly fucked.”
I groan. “Violet…”
“I worried that when this was all done, you’d have no more need for me anymore, too,” she admits. “Wow, we make quite the couple, eh?”
“Oh, yeah. Trust me, babe. I need you. You’re the one that makes everything clearer. And there’s no fucking way I’m letting you go.” I snort. “No need for you? Jesus. You’re my world, Violet. Without you, I lose my center. I lose everything.”
“I love you, Cain.”
“And I love you.”
She grins and gets that wicked gleam in her eye I know all too well. “Then show me, baby.”
Epilogue
Violet
Six months later
* * *
Cain stands with his back to me, his hands shoved into his pockets, staring at the blue, blue sky over the ocean. I take a moment to admire him before I walk over. From here, the blue sky outlines his large, masculine frame. His shadow on the ground before him could be a giant. I remember thinking of him as the fabled Paul Bunyan. His thick, dark brown hair is tousled, and I know exactly how it got that way after this morning’s romp. He never bothered to fix it. He knows I like it a little on the long side so I can tangle my fingers in it.
He looks to his left, but not at me, and I can see the ruggedly masculine face and square jaw, still darkened with a five o’clock shadow that never seems to go away. When he looks at me, I feel the power he holds, his intelligence and wit. But as I’ve gotten to know him… as I’ve grown to love him… a bit of the hurt he carries has seemed to dissipate. Maybe it’s only my imagination. Or maybe he’s found a way to heal.
Healing.
It’s a wonder that two people so capable of love could hurt one another so easily. It’s a wonder that the very same people are the ones that bring healing.
I marvel at his strength, his power, and all that makes him whole, before I come up behind him.
“Cain.” He startles when I call his name. That’s unlike him.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you jump when someone came up behind you. Are you losing your skills in your advanced age, sir?”
He smirks, his eyes twinkling. “No, babe. I think you’re the only one who could do that to me.”
“Oh?” I come up beside him and nuzzle my head on his shoulder. He drapes a heavy arm around my shoulders. “And why’s that?”
“Because you’re such a part of who I am, it’s as natural as breathing to have you with me.”
“Now, as romantic as that sounds, it’s a lie, Mr. Master.”
He chuckles, the sound rolling through me with a delicious heat.
“Oh?”
“It is. You know where I am, at all times. If you’re not by my side, one of the guys is, and you make sure that I’m safe from the moment I wake up until the moment I go to bed, and even when I go to sleep.”
A shadow darkens his eyes for such a brief moment, I almost miss it. “Do you feel smothered, Violet?”
I shake my head. I know the answer to this question. “No. I feel… loved.”
For the first time in my life.
I know that if I decided to leave, he’d let me. He let me go once, even though I know it pained him to do so, and he’d do it again if he had to. It would wound him… scar him, even… but I’m certain that if I needed him to, he’d let me. The freedom that comes from being his, from really, truly, being his, is worth every smothering thing he does, because I know he loves me.
“Good, Vi,” he says, kissing the top of my head, an easy target for him because of how tall he is in proportion to me. “I want you to feel that way.”
A ferocious little bark sounds not far behind me. I turn to see Cudgel, nearly fully grown, bounding his way toward me with endless puppy energy. I bend to greet him, and he nearly tackles me over in his enthusiasm to greet me.
“He’ll be a strong defender one day,” I say to him. And to myself. And soon we’ll need that.
I need to tell Cain. I will, I just… I want to hold my news to myself for a little while longer. I also want to take him to the target range for “practice,” and I’m afraid he won’t touch me if I tell him now.
“Got my new Wilson. You know, it’s okay to actually make me earn these things every once in a while.”
He grins. “You like it, baby?”
I grin back at him. “Ah, hello, I fucking love it. Is that even a question?”
“Then you’ve earned it. I’ve never seen anyone get as excited about a new gun as you.”
I reach for his hand. “Not true. You lit up like a bonfire when your new Ruger showed up.”
“Well, yeah, that baby was on back-order for fucking ever.”
“Still, you can’t deny you were excited.”
He squeezes my hand. “Not denying anything. Want to test them both out?”
“Hell yes I do.”
We head to the range. I’ve already set things up so we’re ready. We shoot until our guns are hot to the touch and our stomachs are growling with hunger, but there’s still plenty of time for a little more.
“I will never forget taking you here. I will never fucking forget that first day here. I teased you with the knife…”
“Mmm. Now that I haven’t forgotten.”
His eyes heat, and he reaches into his pocket. “You haven’t?”
My mouth is dry, and my throat doesn’t want to work. I shake my head from side to side.
“Good. Because I know an excellent way to establish more trust between us.”
I blink before I nod. I want this. I need this.
“Hands over your head, baby, and bend over the table.”
I obey by instinct, offering him my wrists. He quickly secures them in the straps above my head. My feet are planted on either side of me, supporting me, as I hear him draw the knife out of its sheath.
“There,” he says, as if he’s just revealed a perfect masterpiece. “I’ll buy you a new one.”
Panic slams into me. “A new what?”
“A new everything.” Rip. The knife slashes through my leggings, and they fall to the floor like ribbons. Another tear, and my panties join them.
“Will I need to wear your T-shirt back to the house again?”
“I’ll figure it out. Hush now, Violet.”
I hush.
I close my eyes.
I draw in a sharp breath when the knife grazes my shoulder blade, then my neck. He draws a pattern across my back, then kisses the scars there, before he drags the knife between my ass cheeks.
“Cain,” I gasp, trembling.
“Trust me, Violet.”
I close my eyes and nod. I do. I trust him. I trust him implicitly. It’s taken a while to get here, but he’s proven himself so often, I know now that I can trust him fully.
The tip of the knife crosses lower still, to where my thighs meet my ass, and then he scrapes it along each of my thighs. The skin burns, then tingles, and I feel as if every sense has been magnified. I freeze completely when he places the handle of the knife between my legs.
“Open those legs up.”
I trust him.
I do what he tells me. He glides the handle between my legs. It’s cold and hard, but I’m so turned on, I’d come with one stroke of his fingers.
“Fucking gorgeous. Look at you,” he murmurs to himself. “You really do trust me.”
I nod. “I do. Of course I do.”
“I love you.”
“And I love you.”
The knife makes its way down my legs to my ankles, then drags across the tip of each foot, until he’s drawn a trail map across my entire body. He hasn’t drawn blood, though, and that’s where the trust comes in.
“I need to taste you, Violet,” he whispers.
My mouth’s so dry, I can only nod. My hips arch with the first feel of his tongue doing wicked, perfect things to me.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Oh, please. Oh God, just like that.”
He laps and sucks and plunges his tongue in my core, until I’m nearly weeping with the need to come. I can’t hold back any longer.
“Come, baby. I want to taste you. I want to feel you. Come on my mouth.”
Light explodes behind my eyes, a sparkle of stars showering my vision when I’m enveloped in perfect ecstasy.
He groans, milking my orgasm, until I slump over the table.
He makes quick work of undressing, taking his position behind me, and when I feel his cock at my entrance, I moan and whimper a little. “Yes. Yes, please, just like that.”
He plunges into me with one firm thrust, and my world shatters and rocks, ecstasy filling every cell as he works a perfect rhythm until we both scream our pleasure in the soundproof room.
I’m slumped over the table, riding the waves of bliss, his body pressed up against mine. I love this man so much.
“Oh, good. Now I can tell you.”
He pulls out and cleans me off. He’s got a little kit he keeps here for this very purpose, filled with all sorts of kinky accoutrements. Our little goody box.
“Tell me what.”
“I was afraid if I told you before, you wouldn’t fuck me, and I really needed to be fucked.”
“Violet…”
There’s my name in my favorite voice. I grin.
“The doctor would tell you it’s perfectly fine, though.”
“Violet, I swear to God if you don’t tell me what the fuck—”
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out.
“You’re… pregnant.” He repeats it like I’ve just spoken in a foreign language, so to tease him, I do. “Ich bin schwanger,” I say with a nod. I look over my shoulder at him. “And that doesn’t mean we can’t get kinky or have sex.”
“You’re… pregnant,” he repeats again.
I nod.
“When?” he says. His voice is hoarse. It’s so rare that he gets emotional on me, that my own eyes blur.
“In the fall. I’m due right around the end of September.”
“A baby,” he says, then he breaks out in a grin that reaches all the way to his eyes. “A baby! Holy shit. Oh my God. I’m gonna be a daddy!”
He looks almost boyish when he grins like that. I’m laughing and crying when he hugs me and calls Skylar. “We’re having a baby! Did she tell you? We’re having a baby, Sky.”
Then he calls Joe, and Claude, and Alma, and before lunchtime, he’s got a huge celebration planned for tonight with my favorite foods from Sushi and Sake.
When everyone’s gone to bed, and the food’s all put away, I lay on his chest and sigh.
“Today was perfect, Cain. There aren’t that many things that are perfect, but today was.”
“You’re right. Nothing’s perfect, Violet. But there are moments that are.” He kisses my fingertips then places them on his heart. “Moments like this.”
Thank you for reading the conclusion to The Master’s Protégé duet! I hope you enjoyed both books!
Keenan
I watch from where I sit on the craggy cliffs of Ballyhock to the waves crashing on the beach. Strong. Powerful. Deadly. A combination so familiar to me it brings me comfort. It’s two hours before my alarm goes off, but when Seamus McCarthy calls a meeting, it doesn’t matter where you are or what you’re doing, the men of The Clan answer.
I suspect I know why he’s calling a meeting today, but I also know my father well enough not to presume. One of our largest shipments of illegal arms will arrive in our secured port next week, and over the next month, we’ll oversee distribution from the home that sits on the cliff behind me. Last week, we also sealed a multi-million-dollar deal that will put us in good stead until my father retires, when I assume the throne. But something isn’t right with our upcoming transactions. Then again, when dealing with the illicit trade we orchestrate, it rarely is. As a high-ranking man of The Clan, I’ve learned to pivot and react. My instincts are primed.
The sun rises in early May at precisely 5:52 a.m., and it’s rare I get to watch it. So this morning, in the small quiet interim before daybreak and our meeting, I came to the cliff’s edge. I’ve traveled the world for my family’s business, from the highest ranges of the Alps to the depths of the shores of the Dead Sea, the vast expanse of the Serengeti, and the top of the Eiffel Tower. But here, right here atop the cliffs of Ballyhock, paces from the door to my childhood home, overlooking the Irish Sea, is where I like to be. They say the souls of our ancestors pace these shores, and sometimes, early in the morning, I almost imagine I can see them, the beautiful, brutal Celts and Vikings, fearless and brave.
A brisk wind picks up, and I wrap my jacket closer to my body. I’ve put on my gym clothes to hit the workout room after our meeting if time permits. We’ll see. My father may have other ideas.
I hear footsteps approach before I see the owner.
“What’s the story, Keenan?”
Boner sits on the flat rock beside me, rests his arms on his bent knees, and takes a swig from a flask. Tall and lanky, his lean body never stills, even in sleep. Always tapping, rocking, moving from side to side, Boner has the energy of an eight-week-old golden retriever. My younger cousin, we’ve known each other since birth, both raised in The Clan. He’s like a brother to me.
“Eh, nothing,” I tell him, waving off an offer from the flask. “You out of your mind? He’ll knock you upside the head, and you know it.”
If my father catches him drinking this early in the day, when he’s got a full day of work ahead of him, heads will roll.
“Ah, that’s right,” he says, grinning at me and flashing perfect white teeth, his words exaggerated and barely intelligible. “You drink that energy shite before you go work on yer manly physique. And anyway, get off your high horse. Nolan’s more banjaxed than I am.”
I clench my jaw and grunt to myself. Fuck. Nolan, the youngest in The Clan and my baby brother, bewitched my mother with his blond hair and green eyes straight outta the womb. Shielded by my mother’s protective arms, the boy’s never felt my father’s belt nor mine, and it shows. I regret not making him toe the line more when he was younger.
“Course he is,” I mutter. “Both of you ought to know better.”
“Ah, come off it, Keenan,” Boner says good-naturedly. “You know better than I the Irish do best with a bit of drink no matter the time of day.”
I can toss them back with the best of them, but there’s a time and place to get plastered, and minutes before we find out the latest update of the status of our very livelihood, isn’t it. I get to my feet, scowling. “Let’s go.”
Though he’s my cousin, and I’m only a little older than I am, Boner nods and gets to his feet. As heir to the throne and Clan Captain, I’m above him in rank. He and the others defer to me.
He mutters something that sounds a lot like “needs to get laid” under his breath as we walk up the stone pathway to the house.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Eh, nothing,” he says, grinning at me.
“Wasn’t nothing.”
“You heard me.”
“Say it to my face, motherfucker,” I suggest good-naturedly. He’s a pain in the arse, but I love the son of a bitch.
“I said,” he says loudly. “You need to get fuckin’ laid. How long’s it been since the bitch left you?”
I feel my eyes narrow as we continue to walk to the house. “Left me? You know’s well as I do, I broke up with her.” I won’t even say her name. She’s dead to me. I can abide many things, but lying and cheating are two things I won’t.
“How long?” he presses.
It’s been three months, two weeks, and five fucking days.
“Few months,” I say.
He shakes his head. “Christ, Keenan,” he mutters. “Come with me to the club tonight, and we’ll get you right fixed.”
I snort. “All set there.”
I’ve no interest in visiting the seedy club Nolan and Boner frequent. I went once, and it was enough for me.
Boner shakes his head. “You’ve only been to the anteroom, Keenan,” he says with a knowing waggle of his eyebrows. “You’ve never been past there. Not to where the real crowd gathers.”
