Burn Page 32


Transferred out of the Northam chapter, he was voted in by the MC. I don\ know why, as I would have assumed they\d have preferred picking one of their own. I think it had something to do with how close he\d been to Remy and because he was like him in a lot of ways - an experienced VP himself and a damn good leader.

But Remy...

Remy was gone. No one knew where, but I knew why. And it killed me sometimes.


In the darkness, Jaxon\s hand grabbed at my hip. He moved me so that I was lying on my side, and then he rested behind me. Lifting my night gown up to my waist, he eased himself inside of me.

’’Is that alright?’’ he tentatively asked me.

’’Yeah,’’ I answered.

’’Doesn\ feel uncomfortable?’’


He trailed kisses from my shoulder up to my neck, moving in and out of me slowly. His hand roamed from my hip and awkwardly over my belly. The movement alone had me bursting into laughter, and he paused.

’’What\ e you laughing at?’’

’’You can barely make your way there.’’

’’Not true. I\m flexible.’’

I shook my head, admiring his perseverance as he stretched passed my stomach and to my clit, massaging it. ’’See,’’ he whispered in my ear, ’’I got this.’’

I shook with laughter and he paused again. ’’Stop it, Sara. I\m horny and you\ e ruining it for me.’’

’’I can\ ... Oh, my God, I can\ take this seriously.’’

He exhaled loudly in my ear and pulled away. He slipped out of me and I heard him shuffle around the bed. I turned to see what he was doing in the dark. I watched his butt naked ass walk across the room. Oh crap, did I piss him off?

I laughed even harder, though. I couldn\ help myself. He went through a few drawers and came back with something in his hand.

’’What do you have?’’ I suspiciously asked.

’’Open your mouth,’’ he demanded.


’’Open it.’’


Even in the dark I could see his features attempt the Mr Stern look. I opened my mouth and waited as he leaned into me. He put a few fingers inside to keep them wide and then stuffed a sock into my mouth. I gasped and pushed away.

’’No! I\m muffling your ass so I can f*k you,’’ he said, restraining his own laughter as he moved me up on all fours. ’’So tired of you laughing at yourself...’’

I spat out the sock. ’’You\ e sick.’’

’’Shut up.’’

I muffled the laughter by pressing my mouth into the sheets while he moved behind me, bringing my ass up into the air. One hand trailed down my spine and then over each cheek softly. He positioned himself at my entrance, and I felt a sudden trickle of something wet flowing out of me.

Well, f*k, I wasn\ that turned on.

’’Jaxon, stop,’’ I said, suddenly feeling strange.

He grunted angrily. ’’What the f*k, Sara?’’

’’There\s something coming out of me.’’ I went to sit up and then - ’’Oh, shit.’’ Water gushed like Niagara f*king Falls right out of me. ’’F*k! Get me a towel! Now! Now!’’

Jaxon just hovered there. ’’What\s going on?’’

’’What do you mean \what\s going on?\ My water broke, you sperminator! Get me a towel!’’

’’Oh, f*k.’’

Now? NOW it has to happen?! The lights went on and he rushed to me with a towel in his hand. His face paled significantly at the sight of our drenched bed.

’’What-What do I do?’’ he hysterically asked.

’’Get the baby bag and help me dress.’’

’’You\ e still pouring water out of there. You\ e going to soak whatever you put on.’’

I gave him an irritated look. ’’What am I meant to do, Jaxon? Do you want me to go to the hospital naked?’’

He frowned, angrily flashing his icy blue eyes at me. ’’Don\ piss me off. No one\s seeing you naked.’’

’’Then help me.’’

I\ll admit, even in my hysteria I couldn\ help but smile at Jaxon. I\d never seen him so terrified in my life.


Twelve hours of bone crunching agony later...

And she was here.

Jaxon trembled when they handed him the seven pound, three ounce, pink skinned girl. His eyes went red. The second our baby was in his arms, the tears flowed out of him. He looked down at her in bewilderment. Nine months of preparation had still not been enough for this moment. I watched the joy in him explode, and in his tear stained face, he smiled widely at me.

’’Can you believe we did this?’’ he asked, gulping back his emotion.

Just as shocked, I shook my head. ’’No. I really can\ .’’

’’She\s... she\s so beautiful, Sara. She looks just like you. She\s got your f*kin\ pouty little mouth. F*k.’’

Nurses around us scowled at his use of language and I burst into laughter even though it made me feel woozy as hell. I was so damn tired and yet so mentally awake. I didn\ want to be in the hospital anymore even though I\d just delivered ten f*king minutes ago. I wanted to be home. I wanted to put my beautiful baby girl in her crib and watch her sleep for hours.

’’She\s so beautiful,’’ Lucinda wept from over his shoulder. ’’Her little fingers, Jaxon. Look at her little fingers. And her face.’’

’’She looks like Sara.’’

’’Yeah, but she\s got your chin.’’

’’And my eyes.’’

’’Well, maybe. It\s blue now but it might change...’’

I watched them both converse with excited ease, regarding our bundle of joy like she was a piece of the sky that had fallen into our lap. I stared at them and, I don\ know, maybe it was the birth that caused the tsunami of feelings in my chest to soar, but I broke down into wet, jagged sobs.

These two people...

They were my f*king world. Always had been. And I was here with them while they admired a baby I created with the most amazing man that ever existed.

Surreal. So goddamn surreal.

’’You have visitors,’’ said the nurse. ’’Do you want to let them in?’’

I nodded. Hell yeah. I wanted everyone in the world to see what I just made. This was Jaxon\s baby, I wanted to scream! He wanted me through thick and thin and we made it. We f*king made it.

’’Oh, hell no,’’ yelped Lexi, bursting through the room. ’’I can\ believe this shit right now. What the f*k? Look at that f*kin\ baby\s face!’’ Cue more angry scowls from the staff. ’’Just look at that motherf*kin\ face, Frank!’’

I looked over her shoulder and at the tall man standing behind her. In stark surprise, he took a few hesitant steps toward us. He wasn\ looking at our baby girl. He was looking at me. I smiled at him, and he smiled back, his eyes already puffy from tears he\d already shed.

He\d come to me several months back. Said he\d been with Mom before I was born, and that it coincided with the time of my birth. At first, I was in utter disbelief, but then I remembered how indifferent he was on my birthday - and it was him realizing the date - and how sad he\d been when I\d first let him know I was Joanne\s daughter. I understood why Norman hated him. He might not have known he was my father for sure, but I\m sure now that I reflect on certain events that he suspected it.

We took a paternity test and, lo and behold, he was. I had a f*king father. It was good to know that after all that time Frank wasn\ a creep after all, but a man who\d been staring at his daughter wondering how to broach the subject to me.

So there I sat, bleeding buckets out of my vaaa**, feeling the most exhausted I have felt having endured the worst pain in my life... and I\d never been happier. This was my family right here. My husband of three months cradling our creation, a woman I\d always regarded as my mother, a best friend who\d always been there for me, a father who was actually making an effort to be a part of my life, and a daughter... Oh, God, a daughter that I swore I would never, ever, ever hurt.

’’What did you name her?’’ Lexi asked, wiping away her own tears.

Jaxon smiled at me and then turned to his mom. ’’Lucy. Short for Lucinda.’’

Lucinda covered her face and cried her heart out.

And, right on cue, our little Lucy did the same.


Upon walking into the parlour, he breathed the air and wrinkled his nose. Place smelled like a combination of stale cigarettes and antiseptic wash. And something else...

He followed the floral scent until he was standing in front of a beautiful blonde girl sitting behind the counter. She was on the phone setting up an appointment and pencilling it into a moleskin notepad.

He\d been in enough tattoo parlours to know that most of them didn\ warrant a receptionist. Judging by her flawlessly untouched skin, she was certainly not a tattoo artist herself. He wondered for a moment what inked up Muppet employed her, because hiring girls that looked like her for jobs that weren\ required in a place like this... Sniff. That shit smelled like bullshit.

As she wrote the date down with her left hand all curled around the pen, he scanned the parlour and was pleasantly surprised that it was a slow day. Which meant he wasn\ going to have to worry about witnesses - and after a long day dealing with the petrified whimpering of a broken down Daniel Hale, all he wanted was to get this next job done. Quick and easy.

The girl put the phone down and casually looked up at him. She stilled for a brief moment, taking him in with a pleasantly surprised look on her face. She was admiring him, and while Remy might have taken advantage of this any other day, today was not one of them.

’’Hello,’’ she smiled widely. ’’I didn\ see you there. Do you have an appointment?’’

’’Yeah, with some guy named... Bobby.’’ He watched her face contort to confusion.

’’Bobby? I\m not sure... We don\ have anyone by that name. Guys here like to use nicknames.’’ She rolled her eyes as if there was an annoying story in there. He didn\ give a f*k.

’’What kind of names? Maybe that\ll juggle my memory.’’ It wouldn\ juggle shit, the lying f*k.

’’There\s Buzz and Ped-’’

’’Buzz, yeah, that\s the name.’’

She nodded. ’’Okay. He\s in the backroom finishing a tattoo off right now. You might have to wait a bit.’’

’’I got all the time in the world.’’ No he didn\ .

She smiled again, going crimson at the way he was looking at her. Remy wanted to roll his f*king eyes. He didn\ want to play this shit game. He just wanted to get this job done. Poor girl didn\ know what was coming in a matter of hours.

’’You look familiar. Have you been here before?’’

He shook his head. ’’No.’’ Shit, he didn\ think he\d have to worry about her recognizing him.

’’What\s your name?’’ he then asked. To distract her from finding out, he could play this flirting game - the f*ker was good at it. ’’You look familiar too. Those green eyes are f*king gorgeous.’’

She laughed and played with her hair. ’’Christy.’’

’’Beautiful name,’’ he smiled, and it was the fakest f*king smile of his life.

Cue more annoying blushing. Did the girl have skin problems? ’’Thank you. So what kind of tattoo are you looking to get.’’

’’More like wanting to cover up a tattoo,’’ he answered, raking his eyes curiously at her happy nature wondering why, of all the shady people in the world, she was on the list.

’’Oh. The guys are great with that stuff. Some of the designs they do are crazy.’’

’’Not looking for a design. Looking to completely cover it up. Big black box over something I want to forget.’’

Her eyebrows shot up, completely oblivious to what he really meant. ’’Oh. Well, that sounds like it\s going to hurt like a bitch.’’

He smiled bitterly as her face echoed in his memories. No longer the pussy-whipped moron, he nodded and said, ’’Yeah, well... Some pains are worth enduring.’’


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