Madeline Sheehan - Undeniable

They rolled off the bed in a heap, Kami reaching for Cox's belt while he tore open her shirt.

I ran for Devin since neither of his parents were taking into account that their four year old was mere feet from them.

"Jesus, you're fuckin' perfect," Cox rasped.

"Shut up," Kami hissed.  "And fuck me!"

Deuce held the door for me while I carried Devin out of the room.

Last thing I heard before Deuce closed the door was Cox groaning loudly, "Oh fuck yeah, bitch, you're crazy ass is comin' home with me."

“No I’m not!”

I shook my head.  What a difference a day makes.

“You ready to go home darlin’?”

I looked over at Deuce.  He was staring at the little boy in my arms.

"Yeah," I said softly.  "I'm ready."

He looked up and smiled.  "That's good babe.  Real fuckin' good."

☼☼☼

Deuce turned onto the interstate. Wearing his helmet, Eva sat behind him, her thighs were cradling his hips, her arms were encircling his waist, her cheek was pressed between his leather-clad shoulder blades.  It felt good.  Right.  It felt like a fuck of a long time coming but it was here now and he could finally breathe easy.

Extending his arm straight out, palm facing down, he signaled his boys to slow down.  Then he put his arm up in the air and extended his index finger.  The boys slowed and went single file in order of their rank: Deuce, Mick, and Cox bringing up the rear.

They headed home.

"I'm not going in there."

Deuce folded his thick arms across his wide chest.  "You gonna sleep out under the stars?"

I shrugged.  "Since I'm not going in there, yeah."

Closing his eyes, he took a couple deep breaths.  I knew I was wearing down his last nerve but honestly, I couldn't find a shred of give a damn.  He had good intentions, yes, but he wasn't listening to me, didn't care how I felt about any of this.  I had just up and left behind everything I’d ever known for him and he was expecting me to move in with him and his kids!  His grown up kids!  His grown up kids who I had never met!

From what I could see, he had a beautiful home.  It was a two story rustic Montana cabin, widespread with a wraparound porch and a backyard that went on for miles.  It was off the beaten path, no neighbors, no traffic.  No nothing.  Just Deuce.  And his two grown kids.

Holy crap.  I had to get far, far away.

Was there a bus stop in the mountains?  I didn't remember seeing any.  In fact, I don’t think I saw any buses either.  Or people.  Or anything at all actually.  But there had to be a bus stop, right?  If there's a road more than likely a bus will show up eventually…right?

"Reel it in, Eva," Deuce growled.  "How far you think you're gonna get?  You don’t even know where the fuck you are."

"This is kidnapping!" I yelled.  “And stop reading my mind!”

"Fuck me," He muttered.  "Are you always this crazy?"

"Yes!" I screamed.  "Which is why you need to take me to an airport or a bus station or any sort of civilization and let me go home!"

He ignored me.  "I don't remember you bein' this crazy."

"You want to know why you don't remember me being this crazy?  Because out of the twenty five years we've known each other we can count on our fingers and toes how many days of that we've spent together!  And some of those days weren't even full days!"

"Eva," He said, exasperated. "You’ve spent four days on the back of my bike and sleepin' in a tent, pukin’ your fuckin' guts out.  You look like shit, you smell like shit and I'm willin' to bet you'd love to sleep in a real bed.  So how's 'bout you and I continue this fuckin' bullshit inside?"

I was praying for serenity, praying for the strength not to rip his throat out when I heard the most awful noise in the entire world.

"Dad?"

A miniature Deuce was sauntering down the driveway.  I stared at it.  It was nearly as tall as its father, not quite as well built but still impressive for an eighteen year old.  Its hair was long and blonde and pulled back in a man bun and when it flashed me its ladykiller grin, it was Deuce at Riker's all over again.  But it didn't have his father's eyes.  Whereas Deuce’s were frosty blue, mini Deuces were brown.

Deuce pointed at his mini him.  "Cage," He grunted.  Then he pointed at me.  "Eva."

Sheesh.  He sounded like a Neanderthal.  "Me man, you woman.”

The mini Deuce grinned again and lifted his chin.  "Sup' Eva."

I buried my face in my hands.  "Oh my god," I whined.  "I need a bus station."

"Daddy!"

I peeked through my fingers at the screaming, giggling mass of blonde hair flying down the driveway.  Dear god.  This chick was a teenage diva.  Skinny jeans and a sparkly pink tank top with furry pink boots, highlighted blonde hair, long and layered with perfectly side swept bangs.  Way too much eye makeup.  This did not bode well for me.

I was not a diva. None of my clothing had ever been described as furry.

She launched herself at Deuce and wrapped her body around him.  Since no one was looking at me, I decided to tiptoe slowly out of the driveway.  How hard can it be to find a bus stop?

"Eva!" Deuce bellowed.  "Don't you fuckin' dare!

I stopped and glanced over my shoulder.  Deuce was storming towards me, while both his kids looked on curiously.

So I did what any victim of being forced to live with your man’s grown children would do.  I turned tail and ran like hell.  True, I had no idea where I was going but there was a road and a road had to lead somewhere, if it didn't how would people get anywhere?

Deuce's boots pounded heavy on the pavement behind me, growing closer and closer until he was close enough to grab me.  I screamed and made a hard right off the road, jumped over a small ditch and headed straight for the woods.

I didn't make it.

"Bitch, I know I wasn’t fuckin’ hallucinatin’ when you said you were sick of runnin’," He growled.

"Fuck you," I hissed.  "FUCK YOU!"

“That what you need Eva?  You need me to fuck you to remind you where you fuckin’ belong?”

“Daddy?”

“Fuck,” He muttered.  “Go back to the house Danny.”

“I want to talk to Eva.”

“House.  Danny.  Now.”

“No daddy, I want to talk to her.”

Sighing, Deuce set me down.  I scrambled away from him, glaring.  He glared right back.

“Hi,” Danny said cheerfully.  “Daddy told me all about you!”

Danny grinned at me.  Sheesh, she was gorgeous.  She had Deuce's eyes.  Icy blue and hypnotizing.  But her face was her mother's, sweetheart features, delicate and utterly beautiful.

"I thought you would be older," She said and giggled.  "Daddy’s age or maybe my mom's age.  But you're so young."

"Fuck," Deuce muttered.  “She’s not that young.”

I glared at him.  "I'm thirty."

Danny burst out laughing.  “She’s like closer to my age then yours daddy!  You’re like fifty!”

Deuce looked to the sky and closed his eyes.  “I’ll be on the porch,” He growled.  “She runs again,” He pointed at me.  “You fuckin’ yell.”

He stalked off.

☼☼☼

Deuce sat on his porch steps, his elbows on his knees, his face in his palms.  He was destined for a life of crazy.

"She's hot, dad.  Really fuckin' hot."

He turned his head towards his son.  "Yeah," He muttered.

"Great fuckin' legs," Cage continued.  "And her tits, jesus, no fuckin' bra with tits that big…fuck me."

He glared.  Cage didn't shut the fuck up he was going to knock him out.

"You get done with her, pass her the fuck to me."

"Reel it in," He growled.  "Or I’m gonna knock you the fuck out."

Cage stared at him.  "Are you serious?"

"As tequila."

"Since when do you give a fuck if I tap club ass?"

"Since right fuckin' now.  And she's not a club whore.  Call her that again and you're gonna be pissin' blood for a fuckin' minute."

Cage burst out laughing.  "Oh shit," He gasped, holding his stomach, still laughing.  "You fuckin' like this one."

Like?  That didn't even begin to cover how he felt about that crazy bitch.

He grabbed his whore of a son by the front of his tee shirt and yanked him across the step until they were nose to nose.  "You're fuckin' young, you think ridin' and pussy are all that fuckin' matters, I get it, I've been there, but you're gonna learn real fuckin' quick to respect women, whores, good girls, old fuckin' ladies, all of ‘em, or I'm gonna bury you.  You feel me?"

"Yeah, dad," He said quietly.  "Sorry."

He shoved him back and looked towards the woods.  Still no sign of Eva or his daughter.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"She the reason you’re pissed off all the time?"

"Yeah."

"She the reason you left mom?"

"Yeah."

"You love her?"

"Yeah."

There was a long pause.

"Cool."

"…yeah."

"Dad?"

"Jesus, Cage.  What?"

"Does this mean I can have at Miranda?"

Christ.

"Yeah, you fuckin' hornball.  Have at it."

"Cool."

☼☼☼

Danny and I walked back to the house, me silent with my arms wrapped around my middle and her, a bouncing blonde ball of teenage girl, telling me all about her summer break from school.  She was sixteen, the same age I was when I’d first kissed her father, fell hard for him, and it all felt supremely awkward.

As we reached the end of the driveway, I could see Deuce and Cage sitting on the porch steps.  Cage was leaning back on the railing smoking a cigarette; Deuce was doing a face plant in his palms.  My heart clenched; he was upset.

When he spotted us, Cage kicked Deuce in the calf.  Deuce’s head jerked left, his face tight with anger and Cage reared back, pointing at me.  Our eyes locked.

"Danny," Cage yelled, getting to his feet.  "Help me make dinner!"

Danny touched my arm.  "You good?"

"Yeah," I muttered.

"He would never hurt you," She whispered.

I looked down at her.  "Yeah baby, I know."

She grinned and I cringed.  The girl didn't just have his eyes she had his heart stopping grin.

"Daddy calls me baby," She said and ran off.  Her and Cage disappeared inside the house leaving Deuce and I staring at each other.

Oh, lord, help me.  I couldn't do this.  And yet, I was walking straight towards him.

I stopped in front of him.  "Look, I can’t do - Hey! What the hell!"

Deuce grabbed my waist and pulled me on his lap.  "Fuckin' hell, bitch," He said hoarsely.  "You make me fuckin’ insane."

I let out a long shuddering sigh and sunk into his body.  His arms tightened around me.

“You’re not leavin’ Eva.”

I was.  But I didn’t tell him that.  Instead, I told him how unbelievably bad he smelled.

"Yeah babe.  So do you."

☼☼☼

Deuce's home was incredible.  An honest to god log cabin dream home.  The inside had been decorated rustic chic.  When you first walk in you are greeted with a two story foyer complete with a handmade wooden chandelier.  The entire first floor is an open plan.  The only divider is the sprawling staircase that leads to the second floor balcony.

To the left of the foyer is a living area, separated from the family area only by furniture.  The furniture was top of line, not at all lived in and reminded me of Chase.  The family area was more my thing, beat up wide seated couches, a thick furry throw rug, an enormous flat screen and every video game console a teenage boy could dream up.  Photos of Deuce and his boys, of his kids, of his different motorcycles over the years covered the width of two walls.  To the right of the foyer was an enormous kitchen and dining area.  The kitchen was nearly identical to the one at his clubhouse.  Black and chrome appliances, black and white marble counters.  The dining set was exquisite.  Solid cherry stained oak, high back ladder chairs fitted with forest green cushioning.

Up the sprawling staircase and across from the balcony were five bedrooms, three bathrooms not including the master bedroom’s all inclusive bathroom with a Jacuzzi for a bathtub and a shower big enough to fit a family of ten, complete with benches and multiple showerheads.  Deuce's bedroom was just as ridiculous.  Although sparsely decorated, what was there was not at all how I pictured Deuce’s bedroom.  A long horizontal dresser with a large vanity mirror and a matching stool lined one wall.  A tiffany lamp hung off to the side.  On the opposite wall were two vertically tall dressers.  The bed was a four poster California King with black silk bedding and too many pillows to count.  And there were mirrors everywhere.  Even on the ceiling.