Page 67 of Breaking Storm

“Then we’ll leave tomorrow.”

The ache of dishonesty dictates my actions, turning my back to her. I’m too in love with Teagan not to forgive, but it doesn’t mean her secret and distrust of me doesn’t prick my heart. Then again, I’ve done the same to Sean, and we’re back to normal.

Tea’s hand touches my back, so I twist to face her. We’re both laying on our sides, staring at each other, and her hand reaches my chest.

She flattens it over my heart. “I love you, Joey.”

My arms stretch forward, sliding her into my chest. Teagan’s glassy eyes are proof she’s been crying. I plant a closed lip kiss to her mouth, pause, and disconnect. Her breath is short and shallow, so I do it again, this time claiming what’s mine. My tongue slips inside, my erection pressing against her thigh, squeezing her closer to me. I make love to Tea the first time to show I forgive her. The next, my body reacts to her like an apocalypse is coming and I’ll lose her forever. My cock stretches and hits her cervix as if determined to break in. My arms cage her sides. Mouth latching onto anything it finds on her. I’m afraid for us, unsure of what will happen when we return to Chicago. I’m embedded deep inside her as if I’m trying to fuse our bodies together. For us to remember this moment.

Tea cries out, “Joey. Joey.” Her hips kiss mine fast, rough, and her orgasm hits like tumbleweed, rolling out of control while I continue thrusting.

I grip her hair, body seizes, and shout, “Fuck!” I’m rutting into her, riding my release. My mouth finds her face, lips, and ear. “Tea. I love you.” My semi-erect cock throbs inside her. “I love you so much, it’s a sickness.” My hands wipe her hair to the side. “I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

She sobs into me, confessing her love, clinging to my body. Our breaths normalize, yet we’re glued to each other from head to toe. She softly sings the lyrics to Lifehouse’s songBreathing, and it makes my heart stutter, because listening to her breathing in my arms is all I need.

TEA AND I WAKE ENTANGLED and at peace. Last night, we transported elsewhere. Just us. No problems. No past or present. Collared by emotion and shadowed by our own lust. I let her sleep while I make breakfast, finish up last preparations with Sean, and load the car. She comes down when Sean, my mom, and I are finishing breakfast, smelling of spring water trickling down a mountainside with a hint of jasmine.

Teagan is dressed in jeans and a sweater, hair falling around her shoulders. Every. Time. She takes my breath away. I settle her breakfast in front of her, and we all finish our coffee over small talk. None of us wants to broach the subject of William, James, or the possibility of something going wrong. Sean and I will take the lead if something happens, so there’s no point in discussing it again.

When ready, my mom and I hug while she tells me how much she loves me. How proud she is of me. There’s a knot in my throat, but I unravel it by telling her we’ll be back soon and that I love her. Sean and I bump shoulders, clasp hands, and wish each other well.

I whisper to him, “Take care of yourself and my mom.”

Music saturates most of the car ride to Chicago. Tea and I take turns choosing songs. I hum and she sings, which is a poetic ambiance. We trade discussion for our inner thoughts. Greenery replaces industry the closer we get to Chicago. Manufacturing plants’ exhausts billow into the air, choking out the freshness. Graffiti decorates abandoned buildings, the sides of expressways, and cars. The serenity of the forest is drifting farther while the unknown from the world we ran from triggers anxiety.

We pull up to my old house. The house I thought I’d never see again. Grass and weeds choke the bottom of the fence. No one is standing guard, which came from my instructions a week ago. Teagan and I slip out of the car, listen to shouting down the street, and the screeching of car tires. We grab the bags, let out heavy exhalations at the sight of the house, and climb the porch steps. Inside, it’s cold, and the house smells musty. I make my way to my office and slide the duffel bag to the back of a closet, hidden by panels.

Tea hasn’t moved, her arms hugging her midriff. I take her face in my hands and plant the softest kiss on her lips.

“Everything will be fine, Tea.”

She offers a small smile. “I know. I’m with you.”

Tugging me closer by gripping my coat, she kisses me deep, neither of us wanting to deal with what’s ahead.

I rest my forehead against hers. “Did you call Leo?”

“Yeah. He’s expecting us.”

My arms hold her tiny body. I place my nose against her hair and breathe in. Tea is a bourbon on a cold night—soothing and warm. I can lose my senses in her. We break apart, and I take her hand, leading her to the car. There’s no point in putting it off. It’s best we find out what happened, and what’s expected. Buckled in, I bring Tea’s hand to my lips, kissing it to calm her. I drive through the desolate streets of homes decorated in boarded windows and wild, overgrown yards. Junk and broken-down cars left in driveways or halfway on the grass. This isn’t a future I want for us, and I’ll do whatever it takes for a better life.

Chapter 26

AT LEO’S HOUSE, JOEY’S HAND grips mine and is the only real thing. My tears come from the deep past. Memories of my father and I battling. They’re tears of sadness for the kind of father I had, not for the loss. Then guilt creeps up and I question what kind of person I am not to shed death tears. There are only a handful of times my dad and I were civil to one another. I experienced beatings. His words sliced at my confidence. Sure, he sent me to a good high school, put a roof over my head, food on the table, and an unlimited credit card in my hand. But hugs and kisses. Encouragement. Support. Those were non-existent when it came to William. He knew how to operate illegal businesses. He knew violence and infidelity. But emotions or warmth were foreign to him, and he averted them at all costs.

My mom is a rusty, creaky bracket of a door. She lets my father’s friends and business acquaintances bang her, leaving her slightly unhinged, and starving for male affection. Holly Malone was once beautiful. The talk of the town, and theonemen wanted in their hearts and bed. She has aged well, and men still find her desirable. She mistakenly took my father’s greedy hands for love, and in the end, he made her his whore. No matter how often I talked to her, she ignored my warnings. At one point, I begged her to leave my dad. Instead, she told him, costing me a fat lip and bruises up and down my arms. A mother’s betrayal is hard to overcome and forgive.

So, it is no surprise she sits in Leo’s living room, criticizing my appearance, and then throws flirtatious glances at Joey. She hangs onto every word he says, either following it with a laugh, gasp, or a touch of his hand. I hate her touching him, afraid her manipulative hands will poison him.

Leo and Joey are talking about the old days. My mother scoots closer to Joey on the couch, resting her hand on his thigh. He stops mid-sentence, looks down at her hand, and removes it.

She flutters her eyelashes. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other, and you have… well, you have grown into a fine young man.” My mom gives him a crooked smile, lined from years of blowjobs. “Extremely handsome.”

I announce, “Wasn’t dad, too?”

This slaps her awake, and she straightens her back. “Yes, Teagan. He was handsome.” She pretends to dab at non-existent tears using a handkerchief. “Now he’s gone.”

I roll my eyes. “Charming. Did you pinch yourself to get your eyes to water?”

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