Page 22 of Saber's Surrender

“No. I needed to release some of the anger you had so you could see the bigger picture,” he confesses. “Once both of you were in a more peaceful mindset, I could let you be cognitive enough to be part of it and remember.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget this,” I muse. “Wrecker?”

“Yeah, brother?”

“Thank you.”

“I'll always be here for you, Saber. You just have to let us in. Now, sleep, brother. Y’all have some talking to do when you wake up. Remember, it’s for the kids.”

I jolt awake, this time for real and reach down and palm my dick. “It’s so good to have you back, old friend.” I hear a chuckle that’s not mine float through my mind. “I guess it’s too much to ask for some privacy while I reconnect with my dick, huh?”

I don’t get an affirmative answer in response, but this time, there’s a second laughter that accompanies the first.

“Dragon? Y’all get the fuck out of my head!” I shout.

As if a vault is shut, the foreign feeling of having company in my body dissipates and I relax back into my bed. How am I ever going to make amends for my assholeness? If I were Foxy, I’d never forgive myself for the way I treated her and some of the venom I spewed.

A loud, thunderous knock pounds at my door. It sounds so urgent that I stumble out of my bed and grab my gun. Rushing toward it, I yank it open as I release the safety. When I take in the disheveled sight before me, I push the lever and relock it.

“Foxy,” I whisper, reaching up with my hand that isn’t holding my pistol and with the pad of my thumb, I wipe the tears away. “I’m so fucking sorry, Foxy Roxy.”

“Oh, God,” she chokes out. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Weston. It’s all my fault,” she blubbers, shaking her head. “I wish I understood where you were coming from and that we stopped long enough to have a rational discussion.”

“Neither one of us were feeling rational back then,” I reason.

Her laugh is bitter sounding as she looks up at me. “No, we weren’t, but we… no,Ishould’ve kept trying, Weston.”

“It wouldn’t have worked, Foxy. I closed myself off from hearing anything more you had to say,” I admit. “Not proud of myself for doing that, either,” I add. “Because seeing things from your perspective has shown me that as much as I wanted to keep our baby, we would’ve most likely lost him to the system because we could barely take care of ourselves. We might’ve done more harm than good but at least, with you choosing the McAllisters to adopt him, he had a fighting chance at a good life.”

“It sounds like he did,” she murmurs, a small smile on her face as she remembers some of the things Mrs. Tremain told us. “At least, until the accident.”

“We’re going to need to look into grief therapy for both of them,” I say.

“Therapy in general, I guess, especially when Canyon finds out we’re his biological parents,” she adds. “Because I’m sure that’s going to raise a shit ton of questions on his part. Hell, we don’t even know if he’s aware he was adopted to begin with, so it could be a major blow to him.”

I run my hand over my shaved head as her words hit me. “Fuck, you’re right. I guess it’s something we need to ask Mrs. Tremain the next time we talk to her. In the meantime, get in here and let me make amends.”

“What kind of amends?” she asks, a spark of light entering her eyes.

“The kind that I’ve missed for so many years,” I murmur, leaning over and nipping the shell of her ear. “How do you feel about make up sex, Foxy Roxy?”

“Like I hope you had your Wheaties because you have years of arguing to make up for,” she taunts me.

“There’s nothing wrong with my stamina, Foxy. I can promise you that,” I avow.

“Guess I’ll have to be the judge of that, now, won’t I?” she sasses, moving into my arms.

For the first time in forever, I feel as though I can breathe. Sure, I’ve been existing in some sort of haze, but I never realized that the day I cut her out of my life, I was severing a part of me that was so ingrained, I was walking around in a stunned daze.

“I’ve missed this, missed us,” she admits. “If we’d been more mature back then, we’d never have lost what we had and we’d be something so spectacular, so damn strong that nothing could’ve broken us.”

“We aren’t broken, Foxy. We were a little bent out of shape and warped, but we’ll realign ourselves and be better than we ever were.”

Dragging her finger down my chest, she tells me, “For the time being, I want you to remind me how it feels to have you buried inside of me. But when we’re done, I would like for you to explain the things you can. Primarily, how it is that I woke in your body and experienced everything from your point of view.”

“I suppose that since Wrecker opened those doors, it’s inevitable that you find out about those things that weren’t mine to share,” I state. “But in my opinion, he gave permission for us to talk about it when he decided to play head games with us.”

“I’d say so,” she agrees. “I’m thankful that inthatdreamstate you didn’t need to take a piss. Because other than shaking it afterward, I’d have no idea how to take care of it outside of the basic medical facts I have.”

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