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Ballad:Rockstar 05(35)

By:Anne Mercier


"Ben, oh God," I moan and he watches me. He sees it all and I give it to  him. Everything I am. Right here, right now, from here on out he owns  every piece of me.

"Jesus," he whispers, his tear falling onto my cheek, and he thrusts  hard one final time, his body shuddering above me, as I cup his face in  my hands. I see it. The depth of his love blazing in his eyes as he lays  himself bare in front of me, this man who has become the reason I'm  grateful for each sunrise. This man who is the love of my life. This man  who I'm blessed to call my husband.

"I love you so much, Ben."

"I love you, too, Nicole. God, so much," he whispers against my lips before giving me the sweetest of kisses.

He rolls us to his side and adjusts the scarf on my head. I smile my thanks. Then the devilish grin is back.

"Uh-oh," I mutter.

He nods, grinning wide. "That challenge you issued? I hope you're not planning on sleeping tonight."

I grin back. "Not a wink."

His eyes narrow. "Another challenge accepted."

How did I get so lucky?





Epilogue




Coley



"So, you can't have children?" Meggie asks.

"No, but after all my treatments before the chances were slim already," I tell her.

She nods. "What does Ben say?"

"He says if we want children we can adopt and I'm cool with that. There  are so many kids in foster care that need good, permanent homes."

It's two weeks later and we're all at CFD, as Lucy calls it. Ben and I  just got back yesterday. Everyone else has been here nearly a week  already.

"Xander Matthew McKenzie! Why would you say such a thing to me?" Lucy shouts.

"Uh-oh," Meggie says.

"Let's go see."

We walk into the living area and Xander's laughing while Lucy punches him in the arm.

"What did he say?" Meggie asks.

"Dude," Kennedy says with a shake of his head.

"What?" Xan asks, trying to play innocent but we all know the truth.  "All I did was mention that if those babies get any bigger and Lucy has  to push all three out her vag, Jesse might-"

Jesse smacks Xander in the back of the head. "Dick."

"That's what I was-" Xander tries.

Smack. Jesse again.

"That wasn't very nice," Lucy tells him, folding her arms over her prego belly.

"It's all about the Kegel exercises," Xan says and Jesse smacks him again, harder this time.

"Don't make me kick your ass," Jesse threatens.

"Sorry, sorry," Xander says, holding up his hands. "I was just trying to help."

"You can take that kind of help and shove it up your ass," Lucy bites out. She stands up and kicks him in the shin.

"Ow, damn." He winces.         

     



 

Lucy points at him. "Not. Nice."

"That was mean," I agree.

"See?" she says. She turns to walk away and wobbles.

"Oh fuck," Jesse swears, trying to catch her but he's too far away.

Ben runs up and catches her dead faint. "What the fuck?" he asks, his eyes wide and panicked.

"I don't know," Jesse tells him, dialing his phone. Xan stops him, a phone already pressed to his ear.

"Dad," he starts. "Lucy fainted. No, she just turned to walk into the kitchen. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Thanks."

"What?" Jesse asks.

"We need to take her to the hospital. He said it might be her blood  pressure then went on with some medical shit I don't know," Xander  relays, his eyes crazy with panic.

Ben nods, still holding Lucy.

"Let's fucking go," Jesse orders and everyone's out the door and packed into vehicles.

I hope Lucy's okay. Carrying triplets this long is a miracle in and of itself.

"We need two more weeks," Jesse says to no one as he holds his wife on his lap. "Two more weeks."

I pray to the God that Ben's taught me to believe in again for them to get the two weeks they need. Please, God. Two more weeks.





Lullabye, Rockstar #6, coming December 15, 2016





Guest Author Chapters




Deceitfully Yours

©Tracy Burke

CHAPTER ONE



Julia couldn't believe her shitty luck. If one more thing happened on  this trip she'd have a mental break down. She would scream, kick, and  flop out onto the ground like a two year old and just die right there in  the middle of nowhere.

It had been one day since she left Boston heading south on the 138. She  needed to get back to New York City but had no other way to do that  besides walking and hitchhiking to get herself there. So, here she was  with her finger in the wind, trying to find a ride for the next few  miles.

So far she'd been lucky at finding nice people to catch rides with. But,  she knew with the way her luck was that soon she'd be picked up by a  psycho serial killer who would end up eating her innards. He'd most  likely keep her alive to watch him do the deed.

The horn blaring from an old Mercedes jerked her attention back to what  she was doing here: hitching a ride. When the car came to a stop she  walked up to the passenger side and leaned over, looking in at the  elderly gentleman.

Great, another pervert.

"Where are you headed?" he asked.

"New York City," she replied as she swept her red hair over her  shoulder. She shielded her eyes and tried to peer into the car, but the  dirt kicked up by the cars zooming past made it difficult. There was no  way she would get in if she couldn't see the person in the car clear  enough to ensure her safety.

"Hop in. I'm going to Jamestown." He smiled and then waited for her to  decide whether she wanted to take the ride he was offering.

She looked at him again and figured that he must have been in his  eighties. What harm could he do? Julia doubted he could do anything even  if he wanted to. If he tried to cop a feel she'd just bust him in the  gut and run like hell. She hoped it wouldn't come to that. She was  exhausted, pissed off, and way too fed up with life to put up with that  type of shit.

"Sure. Thanks so much." Julia opened the door when he unlocked it and  got in, glancing at the door panel to make sure there was a handle on  the inside. She'd seen way too many hitchhiker movies not to check  things out. Shifting in her seat she checked behind her, looking for  anything that could be a danger to her before putting on her seat belt.  Julia clicked it into place and then undid it a few times to make sure  it worked. After she felt satisfied she buckled it up and sat back, then  looked over at him and nodded. "I'm ready."

He laughed and turned on his blinker, speeding up to get back onto the highway. "Satisfied I'm not a serial killer or a rapist?"

"Not really but I appreciate the ride." She laughed with him when he  chuckled, then leaned back against the seat and prepared for the  two-hour ride. "So why are you heading to Jamestown?"

Julia looked over at him and noticed his clothing. He was a well-dressed  man who smelled of a pipe and cherry tobacco. The smell was inviting,  and it made her feel warm and secure. The scent took her back to a  foster home she'd spent time in when she was five years old. Her foster  parents were an elderly couple. The man, whom she called Grandpa, used  to hold her and smoke his pipe while he read her stories from the Bible.

She'd spent almost a year with them and they'd done their best to make  her feel safe and secure in their home. But then the unthinkable  happened. Grandpa had a heart attack and Grandma found it too difficult  to care for her on her own. They had been the closest thing to a family  she'd ever known.         

     



 

Now she didn't have a family. She only had herself and that made her feel more alone than ever before.

Unaware of her inner musings, the old man looked over at her and then  back at the road. "I'm going there to see my oldest son. He's in the  hospital, and as far as we know he's having open heart surgery tomorrow.  If nothing changes between now and then that is."

Good, she thought to herself. He doesn't have time to kill me on the  way. He'd want to be there for his son's surgery in case something  happened to him. Unless... it was all a lie.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I hate when people have to go through bad things like that."

"Thanks. Grant, my son, has had issues with his heart off and on all his  life. It's hit him hard this time. The doctor told him he either has  the surgery or he's got a few months to live." The old man shrugged as  he attempted to downplay the severity of it. The look in his eye told  her that everything he said was the truth. "Not a thing wrong with me.  I'm eighty five years old and I'm still kicking strong as an ox." He  balled his fist and shook it before he put it back on the wheel. "But  him, he's sixty and has more wrong with him than anyone I know. It's  always something or another."

She turned and looked out the window. "Sometimes that's how the cards  fall." Her voice was low and her mood took a sudden downward dive. Of  all the people who could have picked her up it had to be Debbie Downer  driving the Depression Taxi. At least he didn't want to eat her  intestines. That was a plus.