Page 48 of Red Flag Bull

“A kid,” she says. “Maybe fifteen? Playing lacrosse and just grinning — you know? Happy. Like, actually happy. His parents were on the other side of the field, cheering him on like crazy. Going nuts over this kid. There was no way he could ever have thought he wasn’t loved. You know?”

I nod and give her a sad smile. It would have been a strange sight for her to understand, because she never had that, but it’s the kind of family I had before we lost Candice and it all fell apart. “Yeah, I know.”

“And this kid..” Mandi continues, lost in the memory. “This crazy-good-at-sports kid? He looked kind of like you, but also a little bit like me.”

I give her a wary sideways look. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t think he was ours, but it made me think. This kid’s parents were so normal-looking and supportive. After the game, they hugged and celebrated him, and I cried. I sat in the bushes and cried, because that’s how a family should be, and I was so happy for them and so sad for myself, because I would never be that kind of mother or have a family like that. Not as I was. And I hoped that our boy, wherever he was, had something like that. And I started to wonder what he’d think of me if he ever tried to find me. I didn’t want him to see the mess I had become, Jason.” She says the last part like I should agree she’s the biggest fuckup there is.

“I didn’t want him to see me and be ashamed to share my DNA.” She firms her jaw and lifts her chin. “And I couldn’t let him find his birth-mom written up as an alcoholic suicide statistic. Genetics are damning, and that’s not a legacy I want to pass on. I needed to clean up my act. For him,” she says with the conviction of a mother putting her child first. “So I did. I decided to live.”

“And I am so fucking grateful you did.” I pull her into a tight hug that makes her squeak. “And for the record, I could never hate you. But I definitely should have chained you to my fucking side when I had the chance. It’s where you belong, and not a day has gone by without me regretting your absence. Tell me you’ll stay. Tell me you forgive me, for letting you down, like everyone else did.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she says, searching my face. “You still love me?”

“Never stopped,” I reply with a sigh. I sweep her dark hair behind her ears. “You left, and my heart went with you.”

She narrows her eyes. “Did you ever love anyone else?”

I shake my head. “Kind of impossible, without a heart,” I say with a smile.

She rolls her eyes, and I grip the back of her neck, to bring her lips to mine. “Couldn’t bring myself to relive that kind of agony.”

She scoffs and gives my chest a playful shove.

I grab her wrist in my free hand and pin it to her side. “Are you doubting my word?”

Mandi opens her mouth, and then closes it again.

“What? Did you fall in love with another man?” I ask, ready to murder the asshole for taking something that’s mine.

She shakes her head. “Never.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Only fucked them, huh?”

She shrugs. “You made sex feel like a cure-all, so I tried a few other men, but none of them had the right medicine. I mostly resorted to sex when I wanted to remember your touch. Was that the same for you, or did you fuck to forget me? Bet you’ve had more than a few women, over the years. Probably buried the memory of me under a stack of prettier girls. I imagine they were lining up for your love.”

“There are no prettier girls, I had no love for them, and there was no forgetting you, Princess. They had no love for me either. Our interactions were transactional. I haven’t been able to fuck a woman without tying her down until I’m ready to set her free. Do you know how few women will risk that kind of behavior with a man who has no interest to engage beyond small talk? Let alone try a relationship with him? I’ve preferred my own company to anyone else’s and mostly sated any appetite for sex with subs from clubs for twenty fucking years.”

“Nineteen,” she says with a small smile.

“Like that makes it any better,” I rumble. She shivers, and I lean in to kiss her neck. “You realize I’m never letting you go again, right?”

“I’d like that.” She makes a soft, pained sound when I stroke her breast. I gently explore both and find they’ve grown firm again. Full.

She squirms and pulls her blanket up a bit. “All I ever wanted was a loving family with you. And I was so close.” She sniffs quietly. “You really think we could find him and make sure he’s okay? Our boy?”

“Yes,” I murmur against her skin, as I push the blanket aside and trail the tip of my nose toward one of her nipples. “Because we’re not going to stop looking.”

I tease her with soft little licks, as I nuzzle her fullness and breathe in her scent. “You fed him? At your breast?”

Mandi nods. “Just the once.” She sounds a little breathless.

I suckle gently at her breast with no sexual intent, seeking only love and to forge a lasting bond, like our baby may have. Her breath quickens, and she tenses and relaxes her body. Does she not know how to feel about it?

I ease off and rest my hand over her heart. It’s racing. “Do you want me to stop this?” I ask, watching her closely. “It pains you to be reminded?”

Her eyes are earnest when she shakes her head, and she guides her nipple back to my lips. “I didn’t know how badly I wanted this closeness, until you gave it to me.”

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