Page 33 of Broke Down Single Mom

I need them to keep me upright while Luke takes what I gladly and gleefully offer.

I need them to consume me, to turn me over, to squeeze my ass and fondle my breasts, to run their fingers through my hair, to kiss me relentlessly as Luke explodes into a fucking frenzy and pounds me into oblivion.

I don’t ever want this night to end.

It was only just beginning.

15

Kellan

That first night with the four of us was incredible. I relive every moment whenever I get the chance, my mind wandering back to that complete surrender. Avery is incredible and delighted to be shared between three men. The bond could become unbreakable if we nurture it properly. I’ve never felt this way before about anyone. She truly is special, and the thought scares and exhilarates me at the same time.

But life has a way of reminding me that it will never truly be easy or safe for the three of us to build something worthwhile, something stable, healthy and complex, at least not without rooting out the very evil that has plagued us since we were children. The threat of Avery’s ex notwithstanding, it’s my own flesh and blood that I fear most. My parents. Two of the most toxic and dangerous people I have ever had to deal with.

I thought I’d gotten rid of them and their influence the moment I joined the Navy and took hold of my trust fund. But they waited patiently and went about their dirty business in my and my brother’s absence, their filthy claws digging deeper into Lincoln County. By the time I got back and earned my badge as county sheriff, Mom and Dad had most of this place by the balls. It has taken a lot of backdoor dealing and covert tactics to start knocking their pieces off the gameboard.

Because that’s all this is to them, a game. A game they intend to win no matter the cost.

The prize? Power and money, influence and our obedience. They’ve amassed plenty of the first three, but Fallon and I remain steady in our resistance. I have been working hard to tear the Cassidy empire down through legal methods. Finally, my work is beginning to pay off. I can tell that it’s paying off because my mother and father have been droning on about my persistence for the past thirty minutes.

They continue to talk as we walk out of the sheriff’s department. I’ve been nodding and mumbling yes, no, or whatever here and there, but they keep on going, determined to exhaust me into submission. Luckily for me, I know them both better than they know themselves.

“You can investigate as much as you want,” Dad says as we reach the top of the stairs leading down to the parking lot. “My accountants and their partner firms have nothing to hide.”

“Is that why we arrested three of them for embezzlement last week?” I reply bluntly, unable to hide my amusement. There is a layer of bitterness underneath, but I can’t let him see that. I can’t let him see that his tactics can still get to me if I’m not careful or sure enough of myself. “Listen, you and Mom do whatever you want. I warned you from the moment I was elected Sheriff of Lincoln County that I wouldn’t let things slide anymore.”

“And we warned you to stay out of the family business,” Mom snaps. “You chose to walk away, Kellan. You can’t control us from the outside.”

“I told you I’d come at you with the whole strength of the law behind me if you tried to muscle me out of the department,” I shoot back with a half-smile. “It’s not my fault you’ve both gotten too brazen and cocky for your britches. Things don’t work the way they used to. People notice things. They reach out and ask for help when they see other folks breaking the law.”

“Have you no shame?” Dad blurts out.

Careful not to slip on the ice partially glazing the stone steps, I make my way down to where I parked my car, fully aware that my parents’ town car is parked next to it. Their way of flexing their muscles at me, I guess. I spot the driver behind the wheel, the engine purring softly as he awaits their return.

“What does shame have to do with upholding the law?” I ask. “My department got a tip. We investigated. We found egregious wrongdoing and plenty of illegalities, so we took action. If your accountants were confident and thought that maybe, oh, I don’t know, just because I’m a Cassidy myself that I’m not gonna throw the book at them, well, that’s not my fault, now, is it?”

My mother scoffs as she hooks her arm through my father’s. I watch them as they descend the stairs with their blazing arrogance on full display. They’re in their mid-sixties and proud as ever, clad in the finest woolen coats, leather belts and boots custom-tailored at Newman’s, the county’s most revered tailor. The guy handles presidential suits, and my parents have lunch with him once a month. That’s how connected they are. But it doesn’t matter because I will still arrest them when I gather enough evidence.

“Your grandmother would be so ashamed of who you’ve become,” my mother says.

“I’m sure she would. Crookedness runs deep in the Cassidy bloodline, so I imagine I’m the blackest sheep if there ever was one,” I reply dryly, then look to my father. “I need you to understand that this entire conversation is futile. I will continue my investigation, and if I find you or your companies connected in any way, I will come for you.”

“Is that a threat?” my father snaps, his silver mustache quivering with anger.

“It’s a promise. I don’t do threats. You and your kind do threats, and that’s why we’re having this conversation,” I tell him. “You’re the ones who enjoy intimidating folks into submission, only this time it didn’t work out the way you wanted it to. It’s a different age, Pops, and your old methods don’t work anymore.”

Mom rolls her eyes and looks to her husband. If it weren’t for Aunt Helen, we probably would’ve grown up to be just as dirty and awful as our parents. We can’t pick our families, but we can definitely choose to walk away from those who consistently hurt us, regardless of who they are.

“I’m deeply ashamed to call you my son,” she says. “Had I known you would turn against us, I would’ve dissolved your trust fund.”

“But you didn’t,” I reply. “And be thankful Fallon isn’t around to hear you say such things. You know he’s less gentle in his replies.”

“I can’t believe you would treat your own kin this way,” Mom says.

I shrug and point at their car. “You brought this upon yourselves. Now, you’ve said your piece, I’ve listened, and I don’t really care how rattled you are. I will make a note of it for the investigation. It means I’m getting one step closer.”

“We’re not done yet,” Dad replies. “You’ll pay for this.”

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