Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Bear

By the time we leave the kitchen, it's almost nine o'clock. The guys all go to the shop, and when Sela and I have finished helping clean up the kitchen, we head to the cottage. Natalie went back to the courthouse with Arterburn and Mathis, and Sarah and Lenny are both busy, so we're the only loose cannons out rolling around.

The door no sooner closes around us than Sela rounds on me and grabs my belt buckle. "Finally alone," she whispers.

"Damn, woman, you're insistent."

"I know what I want. And I want more of this." She's barely gotten my fly down when she sits down in one of the dining chairs, pulls me to her, and runs her mouth down over my cock.

"Shit, babe, you have zero patience," I mutter, then let my head fall back. Standing in the middle of the room with her blowing me might not be such a good idea. If this time is like the last time, I might actually fall down.

Her lips pop as she turns loose, but her hands keep working my hardness. "God, I want you to fuck me. You're definitely hard enough."

Now what am I supposed to do with that? I just point to the bedroom. "Go. Get in there and get naked." I watch her scamper off gleefully and stop in the laundry area on my way past. She's undressing when I get to the bed, so I strip everything off and stand there, lamp post stiff. I surprise her when she turns to face me as I just press my hand into her midsection and force her to fall backward on the bed. She doesn't have a chance to protest before I fall to my knees on the floor, force her legs open, and bury my face in her slit. My tongue deep-dives into her pussy, and then I run it up until it hits her clit.

"Oh, hell," she murmurs.

"Get ready. I'm sending you," I breathe against her skin, then start the torture, my tongue circling and wagging back and forth, sometimes soft, sometimes rough, but never stopping.

"Oh, shit, Miles! Oh, damn! Hey, slow down!"

"Hell no. Just hang on." She's reaching for me but her arms aren't long enough, and I'm happy. She can't slow me down unless she sits up, and that's not going to happen. Even though she tries, I press a hand into her belly and push her back down.

"Miles. Oh, damn, Miles. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck." The view from here is amazing. I look down, I see that glistening pink pussy. I look up, I see the underside of her tits, her nipples hard, erect, and still raw from last night. It don't get no better than this. When she grips her nipples in her hands and starts pulling and squirming, I almost come undone. I'm so fucking hard that I'm seeing stars, and a one-fingered touch says I've already got precum beaded on the tip of my dick. Listening to her, tasting her sweetness, I think I might actually come with zero stimulation for the first time in my life.

She's tensing, and I can feel it coming. When I run two fingers inside her and stroke the ridges in the front of her vagina, she lets out a squeal. That's what I want. My tongue picks up the pace, and so do my fingers, stroking like crazy. "Oh. Oh, damn, Miles. Ohhhhh, I'm gonna, I'm gonna, no, no, fuuuuuuuck." Her hips are pumping, her tits bouncing, and she's so wet that she's dripping. Damn. It's all I can do to hang on, but I'm still tonguing her like a maniac, and she's still pulsing. A little more, a little more…

Her body bows until her upper torso is almost upright, and she shakes all over. "Miles, oh damn, stop. Babe, please. Oh, god, no. Oh, please, Miles. Please stop? Please." When I do finally stop, she flops back on the bed, limp and spent.

"Oh, no. I'm not finished with you yet. You wanted a fucking, and that's what you're gonna get." She's still lying there, wilted and panting, when I pull out my steals from the laundry area, open them, and clamp them on her nipples. She lets out a scream. "Uh-huh. You're gonna like those."

"Oh, shit! Fuck you, Miles! These hurt!" she says, staring at the white plastic clothespins.

"You like them and you know it," I say, then grab them both and twist.

"Gahhh! Fuck! That hurts!" she shrieks.

"On your hands and knees. Now," I bark and slap her pussy.

"Ohhhh, damn." I watch as she crawls up the bed, her ass to me. That slit is dripping wet and so pink it's almost purple. "Oh, god, Miles. Hurts."

I know my grin is wicked, and I don't care. "Hurts good, huh?"

"Ohhhh, damn. Yeah. Hurts so fucking good. Pound my pussy with that big hard cock," she mumbles.

I slam into her full force. No time for getting used to it right now. She wanted a pounding, she's gonna get one. "Take it, banrigh . Take it like the queen you are. Yeah. Just like that. Hard enough?"

"Oh, fuck, harder," she barks. "Damn, I need my tits twisted real hard."

I pull out, grab her, spin and drop her on the mattress, then force her legs up and slam into her again. As soon as I've started pounding, I sit up on my knees, lift her ass, and keep pounding, but I can lean over, grab the clothespins, and twist. I pull them toward me and she screams, "Oh, fuck me! Yeah! Oh, damn, Miles, pound me with that thing."

Never in my life have I exerted such force when I'm fucking. Never. I'm slamming her so hard that every time I hit bottom, her tits stretch out more from the clothespins, and she's screaming and begging for more. I feel like some sadistic maniac tearing a hooker apart, my cock ripping into her, my hands torturing her tits, and all the while, her arms are spread wide in surrender, her hands palms up, asking for rapture. I want to fuck her to oblivion, to fuck her until she's unconscious, and keep fucking her limp body, knowing that it's mine to use as I please. No woman has ever made me feel this way, and I want more, more, a thousand times more. She's a wanton slut, and I'm the stud to give her what she wants. I see Justin and Preston's faces in my mind, and the idea of being here with her, having one of them in her ass and the other in her mouth, while I'm pounding her this way, cranks me up from a ten to a twelve. Oh, fuck, I wanna die fucking this woman.

Fuck it. I want her full of my cum. I want her to drip it from that hot, pink pussy of hers. I want her to know I own her. This woman is mine. I want to watch her being fucked by other men, but I want to know that when the lights go down, I'm the one inside her, powering into her.

"Oh. Oh, damn, Miles. Oh, I'm gonna… I'm gonna… Ohhhhhhhh." She spasms around me, her cunt throbbing, and I can feel myself readying. I twist the clothespins even harder, listen to her scream, then yank outward on them and feel her clamp down even tighter on me.

When I come, I come hard, hunching into her as fast as I can, my hands yanking, pulling, and twisting, and her screaming my name. Heat and wetness fill her and I can feel it dripping down my balls as they slap against her ass. "Ohhhhh, fuck, woman. Yeah. Oh, god, I wanna fuck you again right now," I mumble as I fall on top of her, the clothespins poking into my pecs. I don't even care. I just gave her the fucking of a lifetime, and I hope she appreciated it. Rolling us to our sides, I stare into her face. "Did you get what you wanted?"

"You're so big and hard. I love the feeling of you fucking me that way." She pushes me back with her hands on my shoulders, then grabs the clothespins and twists them herself. "Ooooo, yeah. Hurts so fucking good." Then she opens the jaws on one. "Gah! Oh, son of a bitch! That hurts!"

"Coulda told ya," I tell her, then lean down to take it in my lips.

"Oh, much better." When she snaps the other one off, she shrieks again, and I repeat with sucking on that one. "Yeah. That's much better. Damn, babe, you outdid yourself."

"Yeah, well, you just got about a quart of cum, so you're full."

"Hmmm, nice." Right there in front of me, she dips her finger into her slit, then brings it up and sucks on it. My dick jumps like somebody just hit it with a cattle prod. "You like hurting me, don't you?" she asks, her face smooth and unaccusing.

"I wouldn't say I like hurting you, but something inside me likes knowing you're in pain while I'm fucking you. Does that makes sense?"

"Yeah. And I'll give you that. You're a sadist at heart, and I'm a masochist. That's okay."

That takes me a minute to wrap my head around that statement. I'm a sadist. I never thought of myself that way, but I think back. Did I ever enjoy that with women before? Not that I can recall. Did that happen because of my time in prison? Maybe. I'll have to explore that with Baxter. It's definitely worth looking into. "What time is it?" I eventually ask.

"Ummm." She twists and looks at something. "Looks like it's about ten thirty."

"We were fucking for an hour?"

"Yeah. Didn't think you had it in you, did you?" Her lips are curled into a sick grin. "I bring out the beast in you."

I grin at her. "Yeah. You bring out the beast in me."

"I like that beast. So, do you want kids?"

I shake my head. "Not really. And you do?"

"No. Not really. Never have. I'd rather be free to do whatever I want."

"Me too."

"Or whoever I want."

Uh-oh. Somebody didn't understand the assignment. "Hang on. That's not the agreement."

"Oh, I know. I don't mean any rando walking down the street. I just mean, if we want somebody else involved, then we should be able to do that. And we can't if there are kids."

"Gotcha. Justin and Preston aren't exactly randos," I point out.

"No. And I wonder if Carmen would want to come along for the ride."

I figured I'd have to talk her into that. "Another woman?"

"Yeah. I mean, don't you think I'd like to watch you fuck another woman?"

"You would?"

"Oh, hell yeah, especially if you did the shit to her that you do to me. And even more so if she didn't like or want it."

That's a shock. "So, basically, you'd like to watch me sexually abuse another woman?"

"No. She could pretend she didn't want it. I can just see it, me saying, ‘Take it, baby, you can take it. He's not gonna stop. He's gonna fuck you hard and you'll love it.' I can see me saying that while she pretends it's too much. Maybe make her eat my pussy at the same time."

"Jesus, Sela, you're hardcore."

"Yeah. I guess I am. So many years being pushed around and pushed down by men. But I like you pushing me down, fucking me, giving it to me hard. It's amazing. I like not feeling like I have any control over what's happening, like I'm in too much pain to fight it. It's freeing, really."

Damn. Baxter and I are going to have a lot to unpack. Thank goodness this afternoon is his time to be here. I may miss the two o'clock meeting, but I can't miss that counseling session.

They're all at the sheriff's office, but I told Patch I feel like I need to talk to Baxter, so that's where I am. Now I'm sitting here, trying to figure out how to say everything I'm thinking. It doesn't help that Baxter can read me like a book. "What's going on? You look especially pensive."

"You and the big words," I say under my breath.

"Would you rather I said, ‘What's going on? You look like you've fallen in a pile of shit and you're wondering if you should stay or go?' Because that's what I'm left with."

The sofa is comfortable, but I'm not, so I squirm a little. "I have questions."

"Okay."

"So you know Sela is living here with me now."

"Yeah."

"And we have a rather, um, unconventional… sex life." There. That seems like a good way to start.

"Unconventional how?"

"Um, lively?"

"Okay, you're going to have to be more specific. Lively could mean a lot of things."

"So you want to get off to me telling you about my sex life?"

"No. But you seem to have some misgivings about it."

See, this is what I hate about talking to him. It's like I'm wearing a stamp across my forehead that says "PERVERT." I stare at him for a few seconds and I try to collect my thoughts. "So, um, she likes it rough."

"Okay. Rough how? I mean, vigorous penetrative sex? Or something more?"

"Way more. She wants me to pound her hard for hours."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"Uh, yeah. And hurt her."

"Hurt her how?"

"Like, torturing her nipples."

"Hands? Clamps?"

"Locking pliers and clothespins. I mean, she wanted nipple clamps, but I don't have any, so I improvised with what I had."

"Well, that sounds painful for sure."

"It's gotta be. The locking pliers… If they dangle, they hurt. Pulling them, twisting them, that hurts."

"I'm sure. And she likes this? Or you like it and she tolerates it?"

"No. She wants it. She begs for it. She's like on her hands and knees, whining for it. I fu… forcefully and vigorously had anal with her and she was begging for more."

"And how did you feel about that?"

"When we first got together, I didn't want to do that. I felt like I was using her and I didn't really know how she felt about me. But now that I'm sure about our feelings for each other, if that's what she wants, I'm fine with it."

"You're fine with it, or you want it too? Because you don't sound like you're fine with it."

"I…" I don't know how to say this. It sounds so… wrong. "I, um, I like knowing that she's in pain while I'm fu… while we're doing it."

"So you're a sadist."

"That's what she said." He purses his lips and rolls his eyes in exasperation until I add, "No, really. Not joking. That's what she said, that I'm a sadist and she's a masochist."

"How did that make you feel?"

I think for a minute. It's hard to put into words. "I feel… like she called me a name, I guess maybe? I dunno. I'm having to think too hard about how to say these things. It's throwing me."

"Then just use the words you're familiar and comfortable with. I promise it won't offend me." One look at his face tells me he's being honest. He just wants me to be able to talk about it, so why not? He's a big boy.

"Okay." I take a deep breath and blow it out before I start. "So it's like when I know she's in pain, like her tits are hurting and I'm pounding into her as hard as I can, it makes me feel… free. Like I can fuck her however I want and she's going to take it and like it. She's asking for more, so I twist them and she cries out, and that makes me even harder. I know I'm not explaining this very good, but―"

"No, no. You're doing fine. I get what you're saying."

That's a surprise. "You do?"

"Yes. Of course. She's offering you her body to do with as you please, and no matter what you do, good or bad, she wants more. That's very affirming."

Am I on another planet? "It is?"

"Sure! And does the pain seem to arouse her?"

"Oh, hell yeah. She starts talking about me torturing her nipples at the worst possible times, like in a group or whatever, and it's problematic, but she talks about it like everybody does this shit and it's no big deal."

"Bear, there are probably more people doing this stuff out here than you realize. You've got a group of men who've been imprisoned, some repeatedly sexually violated, others the violators, and that doesn't just fade. And with Sela, she's been in a male-dominated world most of her career. She's had to fight for a place at the table. But with you, she knows where her place is, so she can pull off her clothes, offer you her body, and let you use it to satisfy you both, knowing when she puts them back on and stands up, you're going to respect her."

That's when it all begins to make total sense. "Ah. I get it. But the pain. What's that about?"

"Some women just like that. Plus rape fantasy is the number one fantasy women have."

"What? Why?"

"Because it makes them feel like what's happening is out of their control. It's being done to them without their consent, so they're free to enjoy it if they want, and no one can blame them or call them sluts, because it wasn't their choice. Does that makes sense?"

"Huh. Yeah. Since you put it that way. I can see that. She even mentioned bringing in another woman for me to force fuck and torture while she watches. I mean, not really to force. To pretend like she's being forced so Sela can enjoy it and tell her to comply. Wow. I say that out loud and it sounds really sick."

"To you, but not to Sela. She wants to watch you hurt and dominate another woman. That turns her on too, to see you so strong and forceful. Like you said, of course, not really force. You're not a sex offender."

"No! I'm definitely not! No. I don't want anybody thinking that."

"Then if you did that, you'd have to be very, very clear with the other woman. You'd need to make sure that she had a safe word, that she felt free to use it, and that you'd honor it. You'd explain to her that pretending to be non-compliant is what you want, because Sela wants the illusion that you're forcing yourself on this woman. You'd be surprised at how many women would sign up for that, especially with you."

"Especially with me? Why me?"

"In their minds, you're the quintessential bad boy. Big, muscular, strong, hard background. The only thing you're missing for most of them is fifteen tattoos. You get those, they'll be lining up to be your playthings. It's odd to you, I know, but some women like that, the idea of being captured by the pirate lord and forced to bow to his every sexual fantasy."

"That's interesting." All of a sudden, I feel like I can tell this guy anything. So far, there's been zero judgment, just explanations of what's really going on here. "So I mentioned to her that I might like to bring in another guy to watch him with her or to fuck her at the same time I did, and she was all for that."

"Considering what you've just told me, that doesn't surprise me. A woman whose body isn't in her control being sexually plied by two men? She would probably feel almost worshipped."

"Thing is, I think we've found a couple, a married couple of two bisexual men, who acted like they'd be interested. And they have a woman they invite in sometimes, so she could do that. I mean, that's five people. Whaddya think?" My heel is bouncing on the floor because I'm so nervous, and that admission just takes everything over the top.

"I think that's a lot going on at one time and it might be a little overwhelming. Maybe you and the two other guys, and then maybe just you, her and the other woman. Or maybe you, her, the other woman, and one of the men. I dunno. You can figure that out. But I will warn you, if you embark on an actual relationship with her and the other woman, there will be trouble. I see it in virtually every triad I've ever counseled with two women. At some point, one of the women decides she wants the man to herself, and it winds up breaking them up. It's usually the woman who's been brought in later, wanting to rid the equation of the original woman. It's like a show of dominance. I actually think it harks back to ancient times when men impregnated several women to further the species. That automatically thinned out his sexual response to his original mate, who then was less likely to get enough attention to be impregnated again, and the cycle starts over. I think it's a genetic thing and has nothing to do with feelings or that kind of thing. It's a survival instinct. And men have wandering eyes because they could impregnate numerous women and then continue to do so. Just my theory from research over the years."

"That makes sense."

"So you want to watch her with these other men?"

"I think it would be hot."

"And you wouldn't get jealous?"

"They're married. I figure as long as there's a committed relationship, we can keep it fun."

"There's a greater likelihood, yes. And the single woman?"

"Guess we'd have to treat that one with care."

"I'd say. So do you feel better about it now? Do you understand more about the dynamic going on? Because when you walked in here, you looked as though you felt very guilty about having these feelings, very confused about her having these feelings, and really conflicted about giving her what she's asking for."

"I do feel better about it. It kinda makes sense now. But I still think there are times when we need to just make love, to not worry about all of that and just connect. Don't you?"

"If you need it then yes, I do. And she needs to need it too. Or she at least needs to accept that you need it and try to accommodate you. I mean, sounds to me like you're doing all you can to accommodate her."

"I am. It's exhausting, but I want to give her what she wants."

"Then fuck like a stallion." That makes me laugh. "There are others here on the farm that have a similar dynamic."

"Oh? I know you can't tell me who, but really?"

"Yes. And no, I can't tell you. But suffice it to say, the woman doesn't want to be in charge in the bedroom. They're not as aggressive as you and Sela, definitely not masochistic and sadistic, but still very much a power exchange."

Power exchange. That's a term I haven't heard before. "Explain this power exchange."

"When one partner cedes power to the other. So let's say… Let's say Sela is on the bed. Naked. On her knees. You've tied her hands behind her back. You've, um, clamped her nipples and tied the ends of the clamps to the headboard with great tension on the ropes."

"Like stretched out."

"Yeah. Exactly. You've got a big vibrator going in front of her, and you begin to have pretty aggressive anal intercourse with her. Think for a minute. How much power has she ceded to you?"

"All."

"Not exactly. Her mouth is unoccupied, so she can yell for you to stop. Now, let's say you put a ball gag in her mouth. And then you put a hood over her head. And the rope to her bound hands is also bound around her thighs, so she can't even crawl on her knees. And you start with the anal. How much power has she ceded to you?"

I analyze it. Hands are tied. Mouth is full, can't even turn to look at me because of the hood. Thighs are tied so no crawling, there's a vibrator, and I'm behind her. "She has zero power. She's at my mercy."

"Bingo. That's a total power exchange. She's dependent on you to know her, to know her limits, to honor those, to do what you want with her but not to injure her in an extreme way. She has to trust you completely."

"Ah-hah." Now it's all making sense.

"But let me ask you something. Close your eyes." When I don't automatically close them, he orders, "Go on. Close them." As soon as they close, he says, "Now, picture all of that. The binding. The nipples clamped. The gag and the hood. The wrists and the thighs bound. All of it. See it in your mind?"

In my mind, I do. I can see her there on my bed, bound, gagged, and tied, bare and waiting. "Yeah. I see it."

"Now, take a second. How do you feel about what you see?"

How do I feel about what I see? It's Sela. I love her. But what I see doesn't really look like Sela. It's just a… body. A bound body waiting for my dick. Nothing more. It could be anybody. It could be nobody. It could be a random stranger. Somebody I paid. It wouldn't have to be her, although I'm pretty sure she'd love that. But me? "Uhhh, it kinda makes me feel… creepy."

"Creepy how?"

"As in she's no longer someone I love, just a random body to stick my dick in. At that point, she's just a thing. A sex toy. An object."

"And does that appeal to you?"

"No. Not really. I mean, I guess in some ways it looks sexy, like maybe if it was porn on the internet, but it's something I might do at a drunken party, not in bed with my partner."

Baxter leans out toward me and stares me in the eyes, his hands clasped as his forearms rest on his knees. "That's why it's important for you to have limits too, and to enforce them. When something goes farther than you're comfortable with, you need to be able to say no, not just cater to her. That's for your safety and your mental health. Otherwise, you'll start to feel a gap open between you, and it'll start to widen, and pretty soon, the feelings will be muddied or gone. Does that makes sense?"

"Makes perfect sense." I see what he's saying. Don't get so wrapped up in the sex that we forget why we're together in the first place. "Wow, Shaggy, you've really made me think about some things."

"Good. I want you to have fun, have a really fulfilling sex life, but not do yourself or your mental health any damage. That's my job. But it's also because I care about you, about Sela, and about this place. You guys are special. I want to see you live good lives and flourish. That's important to me."

"Jesus, Shaggy, don't go gettin' all mushy on me!" I say and laugh.

"I'm not. I'm just being honest with you. My work here is important to me. Every man in this place has grown so much since I've started coming here, and I feel like I've really made a difference."

Even though it's very unlike me, I reach over and place a hand on top of his clasped ones. "You've made a difference for me, and thank you for that."

"You're welcome. Thanks for letting me into your world and listening to me like I actually know what I'm talking about!" he says and laughs.

"Because you do. We value you, Mark. I know we call you Shaggy or Max Baxter and act silly sometimes, but we really do value your input. At least I do."

"Thanks. That makes it all worthwhile. Now, go forth and fuck," he says nonchalantly, "and have a good time at it. But remember your own limits."

"Yes. Remember my own limits," I say and rise. "Thanks again."

"You're very welcome. Do I have any more victims out there?"

"I think they're all at the sheriff's office."

"Yeah, how's that coming? Natalie's really afraid."

"Sela is, but she'd never admit it. I can say we've got plenty of expert help, so I'm hoping for the best."

"Keep hoping. Get this out of your way and you and Sela can have a good life here."

"Thanks. See ya later." Sure enough, when I step outside, there's no one else around, and all the vehicles are gone except for the personal ones. But I somehow feel lighter and more hopeful. I can satisfy Sela and still keep my sanity. I know I can do this.

And I can have a whole lot of fun doing it.

Sela

When Miles steps inside, the air seems to change. There's something different about him. I don't know what it is, but I'm really curious. "Have a good session?"

"Yeah. We need to talk." Uh-oh. This doesn't sound good. "He made me think about some things."

"Okay. Fire away." There's a hesitation, and I wait. Finally, I say, "Miles, if we can't talk about stuff, there's no point. What is it?"

There's a sadness in his eyes, and I don't know what that means for me. "Sela, I want to give you what you want. I really do. But I can't treat you like a fuck puppet. I just can't."

"Wait, what? What are you talking about?"

"Okay, so there was this philosopher, Immanuel Kant, and―"

"I studied philosophy in college, babe. I know who Kant was."

"So I read his book while I was in prison. Formula for Humanity . And he talks about using people as a mere means."

"I'm familiar with it. And you're not using me as a mere means if I consent, if I understand that's what you're doing, or if I want you to do it. It's not the same thing."

"Yeah, but it feels like the same thing to me. Shaggy had me do this thing where I imagined you gagged with a hood over your head, nipples clamped and stretched out and tied to the headboard, hands bound and thighs bound, vibrator on your clit, and me behind you, getting ready to give it to you. And he asked me how that made me feel."

"Ooooo, sounds delicious!" From the look on his face, I can tell that's the wrong answer. "But how did that make you feel?"

"Not good. Creepy."

"Why?"

"Because at that point, you're reduced to a thing. Just an object."

"But if I want you to―"

"Listen to me, Sela. Using your body, yeah. I love it. But I need to see your face, hear your voice. The idea of reducing you to a mute, faceless torso to stick my dick into makes me feel kinda… disgusting."

"Okay, so we won't do that."

"But at some point, I'm betting you're going to want to."

"Maybe. Maybe not. And you still have a say." He's looking at me like he doesn't believe me. "Look, Miles, you're not just a fuckstick for me to ride. You're my partner. I love you."

"I love you too, and I don't want to reduce this to just sex. Because it's not just sex for me. It's a relationship."

"I get it. I feel the same way. And it's okay. Really. We can have a lot of fun without going that far. I'm not trying to go to the farthest point I can before I fall off the edge and into nothingness. I'm just trying to have fun."

"Well, believe it or not, I understand it more now than I did before. I mean, what you want." He stops for a second, then says, "Did you know there's another woman out here who likes for the man to be in control of her in the bedroom?"

"Yeah. Natalie."

His eyes bug. "What? Did she tell you that?"

"Oh, yeah. She told me Paddy's a real hardcore fuck in the bedroom, and she loves it."

"Holy shit. Paddy? He's so quiet and reserved."

"Apparently he's not when her clothes come off," I say with a giggle.

"Never would've guessed. Oh, and I talked to Shaggy about Justin and Preston and their friend."

"And?"

"He said we need to be careful with other women. Something about genetics and survival urges and stuff, but that those relationships tend to get really complicated. Otherwise, he said to have fun and fuck ourselves into oblivion."

"He didn't think the idea with Justin and Preston was bad?"

"He said it could be tricky too, but since they're in a committed relationship, our chances of keeping it just fun are really good."

"That's interesting." So Baxter green-lighted our little menage a quatro . That's positive. "Good. Let's get them over here and―"

"Sela! Right now our focus is on keeping you alive! None of that stuff. We'll approach that later."

"Sheesh. That's all you think about."

"It should be all you think about," he says, glaring at me.

"All I'm thinking about right now is that rock-hard cock of yours and―"

"Sela! Stop it! Damn, woman. I'll be dead in two years at the rate you're going."

"No. You won't. You think you're muscled up now, you mess with me for two more years and you're going to look like some kind of Greek god. Muscles everywhere from fucking constantly." Now I'm laughing, but he's still scowling. "Oh, come on, babe! Have some fun! Things are serious, but they don't have to be behind our doors here. We can be as free as we want to be." Somebody bangs on the door. "Well, shit. I take that back. So much for fun."

"I'll get it." He strides past me and throws the door open. "Hey."

"Hey. We've got everything under control, Bear. Can I come in?" Patch asks and peers around him.

"Yeah. Come on in."

"Hey, Sela," Patch says and smiles at me.

"Hey. What's up?"

"Everything's being set in motion. We know who's going to be where. Now we just need a reason for them to come out of the woodwork. That's where Sela comes in." His phone rings, and he looks at the screen, then taps ACCEPT and hits the speaker icon. "Hey, bud."

"Patch. How's it going?" I recognize the voice as Tony's.

"I think we've got everything ironed out and ready to go. You know anything?"

"Yeah. Angelo just called me. They're on their way to Colombia, but he had an operative that belonged to another agency who's already managed to infiltrate the compound. I just talked to Steve. Their ETA is tomorrow evening near dark. You've got one more peaceful day, and then all hell is gonna break loose."

"Did he say what he thought was going to happen?"

"Oh, yeah. They're coming to try to kill Sela and Natalie, and Angelo has to make sure that whatever they do at the compound takes place after we've neutralized these guys. Otherwise, he'll send more. Where are the kids?"

"They're already at Sarah and Lenny's. Martin took the dog with him."

"Perfect. These guys won't bother them there."

"What's going to happen when Angelo and his men get to Colombia?"

"Their objective is to take out DonJulio and all the men protecting him. If they can do that, there's a chance that the cartel will live on―if one of his underlings takes it over―but he dies, and so does the vendetta. They'll know it wasn't you guys who hit his place, but they won't know who it was, so they won't have anybody to go after. That's the eventual goal."

"Makes sense. Anything else I should know?"

"Not that I can think of, but be on your toes. He says these two are slicker'n owl shit. They're not his men―he hired them from an international pool, so nobody really knows where they're from."

"That's great. Just great. I guess anybody can be a hit man these days, huh?"

"Looks like it."

"Thanks, Tony. Please stay in touch."

"I absolutely will. I'll be thinking about all of you. Hang in there. Later."

Patch turns and looks at me. "There's hope. We could have this thing sewn up. That would be best-case scenario. Worst, they take out somebody here before we put it to bed. But law enforcement has our backs, so we'll make it. I want the two of you in the lodge. Priest, Paddy, and Ghost are staying in there too. Izzy will be with the state police. Curtis has gotten them involved, so we've got their air support. Priest sent Aggie back to her apartment. She was cussing and spitting, but she went. Bulldog took Tinsley and the baby to her parents' house and they're staying there until this is over, and he'll come back to stay with us in the lodge. Audrey went to Sarah and Lenny's to stay with the kids and help out, so Hollywood will be in the lodge too." When he stops to take a breath, the sound of voices outside catches my ear. His and Miles' ears too, from the looks of it. "What the hell is going on…" Patch says and glances out the door behind him. "Well, son of a bitch," I hear him murmur.

He opens the door and we look out across the grass. There, in our big green space, are probably a hundred people, all with shotguns, rifles, and handguns. Preston and Justin are out there, talking to them one by one, and they're nodding and chatting. I watch as Patch pushes the door open and steps out onto the porch, hands on his hips. "Preston, what the hell is going on here?"

The young police officer strides toward us, and when he reaches the steps, he puts one foot up on them and stands there, smiling. "They want to help."

I guess the three of us look really confused. "What?" Patch asks. "What are you talking about?"

"We asked around, and they wanted to help. They want to stand guard and help out."

"Do they have any idea how dangerous this is?" Patch asks, his voice a little louder than I would've liked.

An old man with a white beard steps out of the crowd and looks toward us. "Y'all might not 'member me, but couple-a months ago, ya went out and looked for my Margie. She were off a trail and lost. Y'all found her and brought her home, safe and sound. If I can help ya, I'm-a gonna."

"Yeah, and y'all tole my maw not to worry 'bout me 'cause you'd find me, and ya did. That tree done fell on me, and you cut it up and moved it away, and all I had was a broke leg and some scratches! I weren't even out in the woods after dark 'cause-a y'all and yore searching. I owe ya my life," a young man about twenty-five says.

"We can't never repay you for what you did for our Tim," a middle-aged man says, and I know instantly who he is. Tim was the boy they found in the woods, but not in time. This must be his dad. "I watched y'all. Y'all loved him and he weren't even yores. That meant the world to me and Virginnie," he says, wiping his eyes when he mentions his wife, Virginia. "If-n we can't help you when you need help, we ain't no good fer nuthin'. So we come to help. Virginnie's gonna keep sandwiches and stuff comin' so y'all'll have somethin' to eat, and I'm-a stand guard. We ain't gonna sit by and watch this place be tore apart by some drug guys. Nope. That ain't happenin' on our watch."

The emotion on Patch's face is thick. "Look, y'all, we all really appreciate this. But it's a really dangerous thing. Really dangerous. I don't want any of you hurt."

"That's for us to decide, brother," a man calls out, and I can see his clerical collar in the neck of his denim shirt. "We protect our own 'round these parts, and y'all are our own. Y'all're part of this community. You're our brothers and sisters. Our friends. Our family. And we ain't gonna let nobody come in here and hurt any-a y'all without fightin' back. We know it's dangerous. And we're here to meet it."

I'm totally taken aback when Patch turns to both of us, his eyes full and reddening. "This is your fight. What do you think?"

Miles strides out onto the porch. "We'll take your offer. Thank you for standing with us. Some folks are gonna get hurt. It's a sure thing. And if you leave, we'll understand. But thank you. Thanks from me and Sela." I step out onto the porch and let him wrap an arm around the back of my waist. "I know Paddy and Natalie will thank you too. We always wondered if we'd ever fit in here. We're not wondering anymore. We love y'all," he says, mimicking their speech in a respectful way. "Thanks for being our family." Then he looks down at Preston. "Make sure you know what you're doing when you place them around this property. They are not collateral damage."

"Absolutely not, Bear. But thank you for letting them help. They all really wanted to, and I couldn't see telling them no. Their hearts are pure."

"I get that. And mine is touched beyond anything you can imagine."

Preston lets loose a two-fingered whistle and points. "Okay, y'all, we'll sort this all out. Head to the biggest building up there and let's see what we can do."

The door closes as soon as Miles, Patch, and I are inside. "I was not expecting that," Patch says in a coarse whisper.

"Me either, but if they want to, I'll take their help," Miles assures him.

"Y'all carry on. I'm gonna go check on Penny. She and Mavis are going to the work house to stay, and Reboot will be with us in the lodge once they're gone. You guys get your shit together and get on over there." He turns to leave, but then turns back. To my surprise, he hugs Miles tightly, then turns and hugs me. It's like getting a hug from my dad. "I love you both. I want us to all come out of this unscathed. I realize that's wishful thinking, but no matter what, I love you. Just remember that."

"We won't forget, I promise," Miles says, his voice gruff with emotion. "We love you too."

"I won't forget either, Patch. Everybody here is my family now. I love all of you."

"We all want you here, Sela. We get this out of the way and I'm excited about what the future is going to bring. But for right now, as Tony would say, business is business." With that, he heads out the door, and the sound of his boots disappears when he hits the grass below the steps.

"Let's get our stuff packed up and get on over there," Miles orders, and I don't question. I just start packing. We need to be somewhere safe, and that's our safest bet right now.

The lodge or Florida. And I hate Florida but, right now, it's sounding pretty nice.