Dawn Redeemed

"I think I didn't contact you again because I was afraid. Even though I was an adult, I was so afraid of my father. I spent my whole life terrified of him, of what he could do, of that I would end up just like him. That I rebelled in every way possible. Back then, there were a lot of women, a lot of wild parties, and one night stands. I was trying to escape his hold on me. Derail his plans for my future. That, I regret. Slowly, I was losing myself bit by bit and becoming more and more like him. It took getting stripped down to the very core for me to realize that and begin to set things right in my life. Erica, I didn't cry when he died. No one did. It took his death for me to finally break free from his shadow and live."

Erica closed her eyes and concentrated on the warmth of Torr's hand enveloping hers. She couldn't imagine the life he'd never told her about. "Torr, I'm so sorry, for everything." She wound her fingers through his. A totally inadequate gesture for the depth of his pain. If she could have, she would have taken him into her arms and held him till the fury of his storm passed. Till the pain was all gone and there was nothing left but sunshine and blue skies. But, if she did that, she'd never let him go. Some hurts, no matter how hard a person tried, were simply too deep to fully heal. In time, they'd scab over, but they'd never heal on the inside.

Torr felt raw and exposed. He'd never shared so much at one time with another living soul. He stared down at their intertwined fingers. Erica's dainty polished fingernails were pale against the deeper golden brown of his skin tone, perfect in contrast to his large, clumsy rough hands. He struggled for something to say and fill the emptiness that hung in the air between them. He had nothing.

"I did find you once. When Fallon was a baby. You were standing there, staring up at the Washington Monument with the most contemplative expression on your face. Fallon, she couldn't have been more than two at the time. I know I should have said something, but I had no idea of what to say. My father...my father was a very bad man, Erica. I wanted to...God, how I wanted to start again right then and there, but for your sake and for the sake of a baby girl I suddenly realized I'd fathered, I kept silent. I got close enough to sneak a curl from her hair. It was so quick, just a snip of a lock. And I was gone. But, I kept that lock of ruby hair and tucked it away in my heart...the locket you left on the nightstand. Erica, I know it's way too soon. But, you are my heart, you and Fallon. I'd offer it back to you," Torr said fingering the locket at his throat. "But, you already have my heart."

Erica kept hold of Torr's hand, giving him whatever measure of comfort he'd take from her. Sometimes, even the smallest of gestures, were big enough to get the job done. She didn't feel like just sitting on a mainland beach in the middle of nowhere in silence, holding his hand was nearly enough. She'd never ask for the locket back or mention it again. Whatever Torr had suffered and he'd suffered plenty, the curl of Fallon's hair he'd snuck and the locket she'd left behind, had seen him through it. "Torr," Erica said, clearing her throat nervously. "Would you like to officially meet your daughter?"

Chapter 38

Leigh crossed her legs at the ankles and leaned against a weathered back porch post watching her husband complete his journey into total and utter idiocy. She rolled her eyes as Alexander adjusted the trio of plastic green coffee cans on the split rail fence and backed away with his old shotgun clutched in his hands. He took aim, which frightened her on a number of levels. Thank God, he'd had enough sense to put Jack in the barn before he started this little excursion into insanity. If he shot that old horse by accident, he'd never forgive himself. Assuming he ever came back to his senses.

She returned his smug grin with a nod and watched him take aim. Honestly, she didn't know which was worse. The fact that he was planning to pump three brand new cans of decaf full of buck shot at the current price of coffee or that he was still wearing his plaid boxers in broad daylight while he did it. At least their nearest neighbor was a mile down the road and there'd be no witnesses to Alexander's mental breakdown.

He had returned from town, toting four brand new cans of fully caffinated French roast coffee, the expensive stuff, in white Super Center bags. He'd set them on the table daring her to say a word. She hoped like hell the Super Center had been deserted when he'd marched in wearing nothing but his plaid boxers, his beaten up work boots, and a battered barn coat. Where he'd gotten the money, she had no idea. But, the one thing she did know was that she was over him today, completely over her husband of thirty plus years. Alexander swore it was closer to forty years that they'd been married. Some days, like today it seemed like much, much longer.

Leigh rubbed her temples as he squeezed the trigger littering grounds of black coffee and bits of green plastic all over the backyard. His cackle of satisfaction sounded out over the echoing boom of the shot. Somehow, she'd always assumed that she'd be the one to lose her marbles to old age first. Now, after watching her husband, she wished she were. Nah, Alexander wasn't crazy. Alzheimer's wasn't decaying his mind. He was just being Alexander, the man she'd fallen in love with and still loved to this day.

Alexander cursed under his breath as the second shot missed the squatty green coffee can completely. Back in the day, he used to be one of the best, now days, not so much. He ignored Leigh's snicker and cocked the shotgun for another round. His days of drinking decaf were over. He'd understood it when she'd finally managed to badger him into quitting smoking over twenty-five years ago. Although, from time to time, he still indulged. He gave in without a fight when she insisted that he have a physical and start taking his medicine. But, give up the very essence of what made life worth living? Good coffee? Hell. No. Slowly, bit by bit, he was losing control over his life. And damn it, he wasn't ready to give it all up, not yet.

His sister had been the picture of healthy living her whole life. She exercised. Never drank, never smoked, she lived her life one hundred percent by the book, and what had it gotten her? The heart attack she hadn't earned and he probably had coming had killed her anyway. So, what difference did it really make? He squinted his bad eye closed and aimed down the long black barrel, pausing to make sure he wouldn't miss the second time. A maniacal grin of satisfaction spread across his lips as the shotgun shell hit its mark and the can was tossed up into the sky like a party favor at Mardi Gras, raining black grounds of coffee down on the grass. Yup, he still had it. He might forget where he put it from time to time, but he still had it.

Leigh hustled off the porch and jogged across the lawn. Her last can of decaf sat defenseless on the fence post and she was not about to lose it to her husband's sudden fit of lunacy. "Alexander! Are you finished yet?" Her Keds made light whispering sounds as she hot footed it around him and rescued the can, clutching it to her chest. "I believe you've made your point!"

Alexander clicked the safety on the gun and set it in the grass. Leigh was a damn fine woman and a stubborn one too. Only an idiot would stand in front of a loaded shotgun to protect a canister of decaf coffee. "Good." He fished in the pocket of his barn coat and pulled out a fresh pack of Marlboro Reds and the brand new lighter he'd bought at the convenience store this morning. He glared back at his wife and smacked the pack defiantly against his palm. She didn't say a word as he tore the plastic and opened the pack. Putting a cigarette to his lip and flicking the lighter, he inhaled, choking and coughing as the harsh smoke hit his lungs.

"Uh huh," Leigh said as Alexander squashed the cigarette to a pulp under the heel of his boot. "Are you quite done now? Maybe you'd like to finish off your little exodus into insanity with a fifth of Jack or a hit off a bong for kicks? No wait, I'm the one that needs medication after this morning. What the hell is wrong with you?" She plopped the coffee can onto the ground between her feet and stood with her arms crossed waiting for him to explain.

"Leigh, we're losing them aren't we?" Alexander stuffed the pack of cigarettes and the lighter into his pocket where they'd stay forgotten about till they got too old to smoke or Leigh made him throw them out.

"What are you talking about?" Leigh asked exasperated.

"The kids. We're running out of time. How much longer do you think we've got? Ten years? Twenty? Maybe more, if we're lucky, if not, maybe less." He surrendered the cigarettes and lighter to Leigh's impatiently waggling fingers. "Damn things are stronger than they used to be, anyway."

"I used to think that I was ok with dying," Alexander shrugged. "I guess that was before. When I thought time was a luxury and I had plenty of it. Now, I'm not so sure. I don't want to leave you and I sure don't want to live without you. I don't want to leave Alex and Erica and little Fallon either. Who's going to take care of them when we're gone?"

Alexander pulled off his worn ball cap and dragged his fingers through his graying hair. "I made my sister a promise. I know I shouldn't have made a promise that I couldn't keep, but I did. She was so weak and so fragile after Mark died. I couldn't say no to her, I just couldn't. I promised to keep Erica safe from the supernatural stuff. I'm not going to be able to keep that promise. I let her down."

Alexander had the weight of the world on his slumped shoulders. Leigh dropped the cigarettes and lighter into the grass beside the coffee can. She'd get rid of them nails in Alexander's coffin later. "You are keeping them safe, Alexander. You haven't let anyone down. Fallon is an exceptional little girl and she loves you very much. You've been like a father to Erica her whole life and no father could have done as well by her as you have. You can't protect people from who they are or what they're meant to become, Alexander. You can only give them the heart to make the hard decisions for themselves and you've already done that."

Alexander gave his wife a sheepish, embarrassed, 'aw shucks; grin. No doubt, he'd be in big trouble later, but for now, he was out of the dog house. "You still my girl?" He planted his big, gnarled hands on her waist and pulled her against his body. After all these years, all the changes they'd weathered together, their bodies still fit, curve to plane, made for one another.

"Alexander, I will always be your girl, no matter how crazy you act from time to time." Leigh smiled up at the big lug, knowing all too well that he was trying to charm his way off her shit list. "I love you," she said with a sigh as she leaned into the warm muscle of his chest. She lifted her chin and kissed the mouth she knew so well. His lips were soft in comparison to his rough stubble lined chin. She'd always be his girl and he'd always be her guy. Nothing would ever change that. "Let's go inside."

Alexander nipped playfully on Leigh's lower lip and drew the soft bit of flesh between his teeth. The make up sex was going to be so worth the trouble he'd be in later on. His hands traveled across her backside. Her butt was softer and a little wider than it had been when they first married, not that he was complaining. He was still hot for his wife and very much in love. He ground his hips against her, his erection instinctively gravitated to the juncture of her thighs. "I've still got a Viagra or two left."

Leigh rubbed her hips against her husband's growing problem. "I don't think we're going to need it." She loved the way he could still make her go all tingly on the inside. She would never get enough of this man. His hands were rough against the small of her back. His fingers making those little circles across her bare skin, the way she liked. Over the years, they'd practiced on one another, finding and discovering new places and new pleasures. Till they were perfectly in tune with each other, in a way that only long term couples could be. Nope, they were far from the awkwardness of newlyweds, but every time always felt brand new.

"Allow me," Alexander said, holding the screen door open for his wife. He wasn't fool enough to think he could sweep her off her feet and carry her over the threshold. Those days were long past. The best he could do was to hold the door open for her and watch her sashay through with that cocky little twist to her hips that meant he was golden. He grinned, knowing she was enjoying watching him watch her. If she kept swaying those hips, he was going to need a Nitro instead of a Viagra, but damn, he enjoyed the view.

"Don't think you're getting out of trouble," Leigh said as she released her hair from the pins that held it back into a tight bun. The blonde waves cascaded over her shoulders and fell into a spray of loose curls over the curve of her breasts. Grinning, she swept the hair over her shoulders and lowered her fingers to the top button of her blouse. Slowly, unbuttoning one pearl button after the other as her husband watched in rapt fascination.

"I wouldn't think otherwise," Alexander answered. Leigh's blouse fluttered into a soft bundle on the kitchen tile. His wife had always had such good taste in underwear. She wore a petal pink underwire with scraps of lace and satin in just the right places. He could see the swell of her nipples through the sheer fabric. He reached out to her and slid the straps down her shoulders impatiently, wanting to see the whole show.

Leigh's lips curled into a smile. Yeah, she still had it and knew exactly where it was. She led Alexander through the kitchen and down the hall to their bedroom. He followed behind her like he was a starving man and she was dinner. "Come, make love to your wife."

Alexander groaned in agreement as Leigh shimmied out of the bra. Like all women, her breasts were subject to the effects of childbirth, gravity, and time. Didn't make any difference to him. They were still beautiful and he could spend hours touching, squeezing, suckling, and playing with them. "My thoughts exactly," he said, kicking the bedroom door closed behind him.

Leigh wasted no time peeling off her slacks and underwear. There was no shyness left in her or in her husband. He stripped as quickly and efficiently as she did, sporting a proud and hard erection. Time had softened some parts of his body as it had some parts of hers, but he was still every bit as magnificent to her as he had been at twenty-one.

There was probably more truth to the saying that love was blind than anyone ever wanted to admit. And if that were the case, they were both blind to one another's flaws and the effects of time on their bodies. Leigh stretched out on the bed and opened up, shuddering at the stroke of Alexander's rough fingers against the softness of her core. He knew exactly what she liked, exactly how to touch her, where to touch her, and for how long. He teased and played along her sensitive flesh till she was wet and writhing beneath him. "Alexander," she begged.

A cold shiver of excitement tightened Alexander's groin from hard to granite hard. The sound of his name whispered passionately in his wife's voice got him there every time. He knew every curve and sweet spot on Leigh's body by heart and never grew tired of all the ways he could make her come and speak in the sweet whisper of loving words. Whoever said familiarity bred contempt didn't know his Leigh. Slowly, deliberately, he plunged full steam ahead, merging their bodies as one flesh.

Leigh's back arched as she felt the familiar press of Alexander's hardness slide deep into her body. Wrapping her legs tightly around his waist, she clung to him, matching each thrust with wildly bucking hips. This man. Her man. She lost herself in the rhythm of his breaths and hard pumping strokes. His muscles of his back coiled and released as he pounded into her. She felt the wonderfully burning, tingling sensation of her approaching climax and opened her legs wider to give him full access. Over the years, sex hadn't gotten boring or mundane. It got better and better with age. Marriage nor Alexander had disappointed her in the least.

Alexander balanced his weight on his palms and thrust harder and deeper into Leigh's tight, wet, slick core. Each stroke brought them both closer to fulfillment. He could always tell when she was close and he worked to push her over the edge. Her lips pursed into a tight little O. A pink blush spread across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. And her core gripped him hard, bring him closer and closer to the edge with her. He backed out and pressed into her deeper. Possessing her mouth and swallowing up her moans of pleasure as she came for him. Her mouth was hot and desperate on his. Her body moving against his, eager for him to join her in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

Alexander didn't want to finish. He wanted to do his best imitation of the Energizer bunny and keep going and going. His body had other plans. Watching his wife come filled him with a sense of pride and accomplishment. Knowing that over the last thirty some odd years he was the one, the only one, who made her come. His name was the only name on her lips when she finished for him. His release snuck up on a wave of pleasure and the male pride that came with a job well done.

There wouldn't be a second round, this time. The first go round was too good. Reluctantly, Alexander separated their bodies and wrapped her up in his arms. Her breath gently stirred the hairs on his chest, tickling him lightly. He couldn't imagine what his life would be like if they'd never met. When it came right down to it. She was his life. "Love you."

Leigh snuggled against Alexander's chest and inhaled the male scent of his skin. She knew eventually, something would tear them apart. One would have no choice but to let go of the other. Death would come between them, hopefully sometime in the distant future. There were options, but they would only provide a temporary reprieve from the Grim Reaper. No matter what she did or how hard she tried to keep him by her side. The inevitable would happen. The best she could do was to make each day count and live each second with him as if it were their last. Playfully, she tugged on a graying tuft of chest hair and laughed coyly. "I know."



Chapter 39

Carter had no trouble following Shayla's scent through the compound's endless winding tunnels. Even if he hadn't smelled her. The sound cooing and giggling of women would have led him right to her. What was it about a baby that made people, especially women, go all sentimental and mushy? Shayla stood in the middle of the gaggle of women admiring her son with a mother's graceful proud smile on her face. R.J. didn't seem to notice the enclave of female attention and yawned lazily as he was passed from fondling female to female. One thing was for certain, the baby would never lack affection or a pair of willing arms to hold him.

He winced when Shayla's smile faded into an emotionless mask. Was she really getting so good at imitating him? Carter could sense her inner turmoil. Even though on the outside she was calm, cool, and collected, regarding him with an impartial gaze. What the hell did he expect? He was hot and then cold. One minute making love to her and the other running away. He had the cold shoulder routine coming. Awkwardly, he ran a hand through his chin length tangle of blond waves and turned to leave her to the women.

Shayla wasn't sure she was ready to deal with Carter or take another ride on his emotional roller coaster. But, she had things to say to him and damn it, she was going to make him listen to her for once and for all. She loved him. Even though loving him was no pleasure cruise. She loved him anyway and she wasn't going to give up on him, on them, without a fight. She wiggled out of the shoulder to shoulder circle of women and followed on Carter's heels. "Hey!" Stretching out a hand she snagged him by his shirt tail, jerking him to a stop.