“I’m dreaming,” I told myself. “This is not real.”
“It’s real, babe,” King growled.
“Ohmigawd, ohmigawd, ohmigawd,” I chanted, unable to move and tied to the tracks as the train barreled towards me.
“Cressida, babe,” King’s voice cut through my panic. “Listen to me. Answer the door and get rid of him. If he doesn’t go, I’ll sort it out, yeah?”
“You can’t,” I said, my voice in an octave I’d never heard before. “He can’t see you here. He thinks I’m dating your freaking father and you’re my freaking student!”
“Deep fuckin’ breath right now, babe. If you freak out, I’ll rage out and we can’t have me killin’ your ex-husband, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I agreed because I definitely didn’t want him to go to prison even if I kinda sorted wanted to see him beat William up.
“We’re going to get through this together. It’s super fuckin’ bad timin’ because I had plans to eat my apple pie then eat you but we’ll put those on hold. I’m not trippin’ about being here. I’m glad because I’m gonna help you get rid of ‘im for fuckin’ good. Now, go answer the door,” he pressed a firm kiss to my mouth like a punctuation mark and hopped off the counter.
I waited for him to disappear somewhere in the house, taking the time to breath deep and get my shit together.
“Cressida,” William called again from behind the door.
“You can do this,” I told myself. “You are a strong, independent women and you can do this.”
I started towards the door then paused and rubbed my hands over my face. “You’re also a shameless harlot who just spent the night boning the gorgeous much-younger man who, along with his father, is ‘fixin’’ to do something about the husband currently demanding entry to your house while said younger man is hiding somewhere inside it.”
Another knock at the door and a hissed, “Answer the fuckin’ thing, babe,” from somewhere else in the house.
“Ohmigawd, I’m so going to hell,” I mumbled.
Then I opened the door.
And to my continued horror, it wasn’t just William who stood before me, but also my mother.
“Well, it’s about time. It’s inconceivable that you would leave guests out on the stoop to freeze to death while you dawdled around inside. My goodness, it’s nearly eleven o’clock, what are you doing still in your robe?” Phoebe Garrison said as she pushed past me and into my home.
I stood dumbly in the door, my eyes locked on William and my father as they retrieved something from the car and made their way towards me.
Oh my fucking GOD!
“Cressida, please don’t tell me you’re making pie for breakfast?” my mother called from inside.
My eyes darted between the approaching men and the mother currently rummaging in my house and I made the quick decision to focus on the worse threat. I dashed inside to find her opening and closing all my cupboards.
“You told me this place was charming,” she accused me but didn’t stop her snooping. “It’s an absolute sty.”
“It’s a work in progress,” I defended. “As you may remember, I didn’t have any money when I left William.”
“Yes, I remember. So how exactly did you afford even this pile of kindling?” Phoebe asked me, finally turning to pin her eyes on me.
They were my eyes staring at me, which I’d always found comforting but now I found it incredibly perturbing because they looked at me with the same judgmental condemnation that I knew I’d used my entire life on people like King and his brothers. It gave me a stomach ache to think about it.
I also couldn’t tell my mother that I had taken money from Lysander because, to my parent’s knowledge, I had excommunicated him from the family church years ago.
So, instead, I went on the offensive.
“What are you doing here, mother? I seem to remember you saying something about never visiting me here because you didn’t want me to get use to the idea.”
Her lips pursed but William and my dad entered the kitchen before she could lecture me about my rudeness.
“Princess,” my dad called out as soon as he saw me. I was in his arms in the next second, his cigar and newsprint scent as familiar to me as my own.
Peter Garrison was not a bad man, but he was a simple one and that was in and of itself a bad thing. He got up every morning at six a.m., read the entire Globe & Mail newspaper back to front then went to work at UBC where he taught the same six courses every year in the Classics department, then he was home to mum and dinner on the table by six-thirty p.m. after which he spent the night working or reading in his study. Simple life. Simple man. And, in his eyes, simple relationship with his daughter.
He loved me very much but he didn’t understand me and it was beyond his capabilities to try.
So, I hugged him back and enjoyed my brief moment of peace in my daddy’s arms.
“Why aren’t you dressed yet, it’s nearly eleven o’clock?” William asked me, echoing my mother’s words as he waited his turn to press a kiss to my cheek.
I accepted it but took a large step back when he was finished. “Why are you here at eleven o’clock on a Sunday? Why are you here at all?”
He blinked at me. “You wouldn’t come home and then when I saw you with that awful biker man, I knew I had to take matters into my own hands.”
“So you brought my parents and ambushed me on a Sunday?” I asked acerbically.
“Yes,” he stated.
“I could hit you right now,” I gritted out between my teeth.
“Cressida Phillipa Irons, do not speak to your husband like that! I know I taught you better,” my mother rebuked me even as she unloaded the groceries that the men had brought inside.
“Mum, why are there groceries that I didn’t buy in my house?” I asked, in a surprisingly calm voice.
How in the world was I going to get them to leave when they were very clearly settling in? I thought of King somewhere in my house and anxiety spiked my blood like lead poisoning.
“We’re having Sunday dinner here because you refuse to come home,” she said into the oven as she checked its cleanliness (found it sorely lacking) and preset the temperature.
“No, you are not. I don’t go to your house for family dinners anymore because it is no longer my home,” I cried.
Childish rage and frustration built inside me ready to stomp its feet and throw its fists in the air. The reversion made sense if only because they made me feel like a child, helpless against their ‘adult’ mandates of superiority, as if my opinion wasn’t valid given my age.
When I thought about it like that, it made sense that I’d been drawn to a (much) younger man. I was tired of old people and their stuck in the mud ways.
“You need to leave,” I ordered.
No one listened to me.
In fact, my dad was already taking his beer from a cooler that they’d also brought in from the car, the same one he and William used every Saturday when they went fishing. Without heeding my order, he descended the four shallow steps separating the kitchen from the living room and took a seat on my cracked leather couch.
“Not bad,” he mumbled, patting the cushions.
My mother continued to set out the ingredients for what looked like a real turkey dinner and William just stood there staring at me as if he was waiting for me to perform.
Oh, I’d perform all right, but I was certain he wouldn’t like the show.
I opened my mouth to throw a tantrum, perversely looking forward to it, when the low distant rumble of a motorcycle sounded in the distance.
“I’m waiting for you to tell me what you were doing with that criminal,” William prompted me.
“How do you even know he’s a criminal?” I shot back. “Just because he has tattoos and rides a bike doesn’t mean he’s done anything illegal.”
“He’s the President of The Fallen MC, of course he’s a criminal. If you knew even half the things I knew about him, you’d run back to me and beg me to keep you,” he returned.
“How do you know anything about him, at all?” I asked, curiosity warring with my rage.
William blanched slightly and I wandered if it was because he’d hired a PI to tail me.
My God, I hoped not.
“I’m a lawyer, Cressida, I know these things,” he said vaguely. “I’m not here to argue with you, anyway. I’m here to talk you into coming back home with me.”
“If you wanted to talk to me about that, you could have waited until our session next Friday,” I retorted. “Right now, I really want all of you to leave.”
“We were concerned about you, Cressida,” my mother chimed in. I shouldn’t have been shocked to see her in the red and white checked and frilled apron that she wore whenever she cooked at home. Of course, she’d brought it with her. In less than ten minutes, she’d somehow yet effectively made me a guest in my own house.
The growl of the motorcycle was louder now, coming down the seaside road to my driveway. I didn’t know what King had done exactly, but I knew he’d called in reinforcements.
Knowing this, I said, “Fine, but you should know that I have company coming over for dinner. They should be here soon.”
Immediately, three heads turned to look at me.
“Company?” William and my mother said at the same time.
“Do they like Jeopardy?” my dad asked, because priorities.
“Yes, company. No, dad, I’m absolutely certain that they do not like Jeopardy.”
We were all silent as the sound of tires pulling down the driveway became distinguishable.
My mum turned to me with an expression of horror, her hand at her heart. “Please tell me that isn’t the horrible biker William told us you’re dating?”
As if on cue, there was loud rap at the door before it pushed open to reveal Zeus and, to my utter confusion, a fully dressed King. My mouth dropped open at the sight of them but my jaw completely unhinged when an absolutely stunning, streaky blonde teenager followed in behind them and I got my first look at the youngest Garro.
As one, my family blinked at King’s.
I opened my mouth to say something, though I didn’t know if my acting skills were up to playing whatever part they expected me to play, when King stalked forward to stand beside me. As he did, the blonde girl moved to my other side, throwing me a little wink as she jumped up on the counter and snagged an apple from the crate King had left out.
“Hey, babe,” Zeus rumbled in a voice very similar to the sound of his revving motorcycle. “Who the fuck are the old folks?” Before I could answer, he turned to William. “And why the fuck are you in my woman’s house, Willie boy? Thought I warned you to stay away.”
“We, I’m, you…” my mother stuttered as her brain overloaded with fear.
“Mother,” I beamed at her as Zeus joined our united front. “This is Zeus Garro and his two children, King and Harleigh Rose.”
“Sup?” Harleigh Rose nodded at my mum and spoke through the apple she was noisily masticating.
King just crossed his arms and glared at them. Unconsciously, I moved closer so I could press my shoulder against him.
“Cressida,” William started, his face set as he took a step forward to show the biker family suddenly inhabiting my kitchen that they didn’t intimidate him. “Your parents and I came all the way up to this podunk town to spend the day with you. As I told you before, your mother is literally sick with worry. The least you can do is respect us enough to send these…” he struggled for a word, “people away so we can spend time healing.”
“Healing?” King repeated incredulously. “Your wife left you and you cut her off from your joint accounts and from her fuckin’ parents. While you were married, you made her feel like a whore and a neglected housewife. Have you seen her, buddy? She’s a fuckin’ knockout and you ignore her? I think it’s you who needs some goddamn healing in the head.”
“Preach,” Harleigh Rose said, lifting her hands in the air.
I felt like I’d been dropped into an episode of Family Feud.
There was a long standoff where I was seriously unsure if a fight was going to break out (this vibe emanated from the Garro family) or if the police were going to be called (my family).
It occurred to me then that I was the pinnacle of the situation and hiding behind the Garro family was cowardly. I wanted to do it anyway, I’d been playing dead for years, following the path of least resistance and always doing what I was told. Because I was a dork, I’d always wished vampires were real but now more than ever, I wished I could die and be reborn as a Garro, someone wicked in ways both smart and cruel, selfish just enough to get ahead and take what you wanted, and beautiful in strange ways that echoed both inside and out.
So, I stepped away from the biker family at my back and into the middle of the silent war so that I could die that metaphorical death. Appropriately or not, I couldn’t decide, Sympathy For The Devil played over the speakers as I took my stand.
“William, I want you to leave. I’m sorry that you can’t understand why I don’t want to be with you but I feel that I’ve done my best since the beginning to tell you why that was and you seem to be incapable of empathizing with me. I want a divorce. I will say it again and again until my dying breath. Even if you refuse to sign the papers, I will never come back to you or the life we had. My life is here in Entrance now and, honestly, I don’t think I’m the kind of person you’d like anymore.”
“Clearly,” he agreed firmly. “But marriage isn’t something that you just end on a whim, Cressida. We’ve been together for eight years. Everyone says we are the perfect couple and we are, can’t you see that? Doesn’t that mean something to you?”
“Unfortunately for us both, it doesn’t mean much,” I admitted softly. I knew he wouldn’t agree with me.
I turned to my mum who was wringing her hands in front of her and darting her eyes back and forth between King and Zeus. Honestly, I got it. I’d never seen them side by side and I was grateful that they were behind me because they were a distracting duo. Of course, my mother was probably imagining all the ways they could kill her while a normal woman would be driven to distraction by all the ways they could do her, but it was kind of the same thing.
“I would love it if you wanted to stay and get to know my new friends but I understand that this is hard for you. I’ve been dependent on you my entire life, even when I was with William, so I can give you the time to adjust if you need it. That said, I need you to understand that this ‘pile of kindling’ and these ‘bikers’ are my life now and I. Am. Happy. In fact, I’m happier than I’ve ever been. So, if you need to go then please do, because they are staying.”
I crossed my arms and, like a boy band following the lead singer, the Garros crossed their arms in unison behind me.
My family hesitated a beat too long because King lunged forward, snapping his teeth and barked at William, “Beat it before I beat you.”
As one, my parents and William collected their belongings and headed out the door without a backwards look. I watched from the window over the sink as my mother hesitated by the car, her hand on my father’s shoulder, probably wondering if it was safe for me to be alone with criminals. Whatever it was, my father closed it down and they got into the car and took off.
“Fuck,” I whispered brokenly as soon as their car disappeared up the steep drive.
Immediately, King pressed against my back and his arms looped around me tighter than rope. “I got you,” he murmured.
I turned into him and burst into tears.
Dimly, I was aware of Harleigh Rose and Zeus moving into the living room to give us a modicum of privacy, but I was too busy soaking the front of King’s tee to mind.
“They don’t deserve your tears, babe, but if you gotta cry, do it now and get it out. Don’t want you to do it alone,” King murmured.
I cried harder.
What in the world had I done to deserve a man like him?
And what in the world had I done to deserve meeting him as his freaking teacher?
“Okay, time to stop now,” King ordered after a good five minutes.
“Okay,” I sniffed but didn’t take my head from the front of his shirt because I had snot trailing from both nostrils.
With firm but gentle hands, he pried me from his shirt, stared down into my disgusting face and then leaned over to rip off a piece of paper towel. I took it from him and blew my nose slightly turned away from him. When I turned back he was smiling at me and I knew he was going to tease before he said, “’S a good thing I slept with you last night and you showed me how sweet you can be between the sheets, otherwise I’d probably be out the door after the fuckin’ Stepford family standoff.” He shuddered dramatically. “Don’t know how you lived with ‘em for so long, babe.”
“I was one of them, King,” I acknowledged. “I still kind of am. I’m so beyond grateful to your family for white knighting me out of that situation but there’s still a part of me that they reared that says you guys are criminals and it’s scary for me to be a part of that, especially after my brother went to prison when I was eighteen.” King’s face widened then creased in surprise. “And there’s another part of me that William created that doesn’t even understand why you’d be into me in the first place. You’re eighteen years old with your entire life ahead of you. You are so smart and gorgeous and charming… Why in the world would you choose to hitch your wagon to me?”
“Maybe because you’re fuckin’ adorable when you say things like ‘hitch your wagon’ and ‘for Pete’s sake’ like you’re from 19th century England,” he joked.
When I only smiled weakly, he raked a hand through the hair I’d tousled myself only that morning and hoisted me onto the counter. He spread my legs with his thighs and put his hand in its place on the back of my neck.
“Don’t like to explain myself at all, let alone more than once so listen close, Cress babe, because I’ll only tell you the one time. I saw a woman across a parking lot in September. It was fuckin’ hot as sweaty balls that day, could barely see across the asphalt through the heat waves but I saw you and you saw me. Don’t know what you saw but I saw a fuckin’ babe. All that sun-kissed hair and huge eyes—couldn’t tell the color—but could tell they’d suck me in and devour me whole. Little slip of a thing starin’ at a biker like you had the right to me, like you’d climb on the back of my bike, on the top of my dick and ride ‘til you couldn’t take it anymore.
Saw you in class months later and this woman I’d been obsessin’ over was supposed to be my goddamn teacher? No fuckin’ way. Not before I’d fucked you.” I flinched but he caught my reeling chin between his fingers and laid an open-mouthed kiss across my closed mouth, coaxing the seam of my lips open until he could touch his tongue to mine. “Then I kissed you and I’m tellin’ you, I could never sell a drug headier than your kiss. I was already hooked but that was the reel.”
“King,” I breathed.
But he continued, “Got shit for it when I was a kid but I’m a romantic. Read fuckin’ Wuthering Heights when I was eight and got hooked on the classics. Always knew I’d meet a girl, want her, take her and keep her forever. That would be it for me.” He shrugged like he was telling me what he wanted to eat for supper. “Didn’t expect it to happen when I was eighteen but you roll with the punches, ya know?”
“I know you’re being sweet but you’re also freaking me out,” I admitted.
King nodded. “You asked, I answered. Don’t ask me questions that you don’t want an answer to, Cressida, warning you right now. I’ll always give it to you straight. It’s on you to be careful with that, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, thinking that I wasn’t ready, after all of that, to ask him about his current or future dealings in The Fallen MC.
“You were good today, brave with them,” he praised, bending his knees slightly so he could look me level in the eye. “Sexy as hell and super badass.”
“Yeah?” I asked, brightening because I’d always wanted to be sexy and cool but didn’t think I had it in me.
“I’ll show you just how sexy I thought it was later,” he promised, pushing his hard length firmer against my sex, barely covered by my parted robe and nightgown beneath.
I gasped and grounded myself against him, watched his eyes flash like lightening then did it again just to see the same reaction.
“Dad, H.R.?” he called out to his family. “Gotta talk to Cressida alone for a bit. She’s real torn up about all the family drama and shit. You cool to hang?”
Zeus just laughed.
Harleigh Rose popped her head up over the couch to frown at her brother. “Fine but be quick about it, yeah? I haven’t even really met the woman yet.”
“Might take a while, H.R., she’s really riled up,” King responded with a wicked grin.
I opened my mouth to scold him for being so freaking obvious but a screech came out instead when he tipped me off the counter and over his shoulder. He walked out of the room with me kicking and giggling until he gave me a brisk swat on the ass. Then, after he dropped me down on my unmade bed, he set about riling me up even more.
