“Chief?” I ask. I don’t know where he comes up with these names. I’ll have to remember to ask him.
“Yeah, Doll, Luca’s Chief and Corinne is Dove,” he clarifies as he stands back up and pulls me into his arms. “I’ll get this shit done as quickly as I can. You and these two just chill out. Watch whatever you want.” The tenderness he shows to me and my children confuses the crap out of me.
Worse, I don’t understand why he’s moving us in with him. He says he wants me but that can’t be true. Shaking my head, I sit on the floor and play with my little ones.
“Tell me something about yourself you’ve never told anyone else,” I ask as I sit Indian style on the couch with my Chinese container in hand. It’s been so long since I’ve had Chinese food. Not because I don’t like it but rather the Chinese places down in Greensville use all the same pots and pans for their food that they cook. And being allergic to anything peanut related, I couldn’t take the chance.
“Let’s see, something I’ve never told anyone about myself,” he murmurs. “There’s not much that people don’t know about me, but when I’m able to, I like to go down to the beach and surf.”
“You surf?” I ask in astonishment.
“Yep,” he chuckles. “I have a house down there that I stay at when I’m there. I store my boards there. Easier to just pack a bag and ride down there. It’s a hassle when I’ve got to load everything up.”
“That’s so cool,” I say probably sounding like a high school girl just now.
“I guess,” he shrugs. “Now, tell me something. I saw the albums. How come I didn’t see a camera when we were unpacking your stuff?”
I tense at his question. “Because I don’t have one anymore,” I say honestly. I don’t want to lie to him about anything, but I also don’t want to talk about this.
“Why not?” he asks.
“Can we not talk about this right now?” I plead.
“Doll, tell me why don’t you. Your pictures are fuckin’ amazing.” His words should fill me with pride, but they don’t. I’m embarrassed that he saw images I took and loved.
“Because I lost interest,” I say, turning my head from him and placing my food on the coffee table. Standing up, I walk to the room the twins are sharing to check on them. Seeing their precious faces, I wish I did have a camera to capture the moment. I haven’t even been able to take one photo of them besides what’s on the phone Stoney gave me.
The heat of Stoney at my back sends a shiver down my spine. “Don’t walk away when we're talkin’, baby,” he whispers into my ear as he grabs my hand and pulls me from the twins' room. Directing us back to the living room, he sits down on the couch, bringing me down on top of him. Straddling his waist, I feel his dick stiffening against my core.
“Now, tell me the truth, Doll, why did you stop?” he asks as he gently strokes my sides.
“I stopped taking pictures the day before I left for college,” I whisper. I don’t want to go into this with him.
“That doesn’t tell me why,” Stoney states.
“Can’t you accept the fact I just stopped,” I argue.
“No, I can’t, baby. Those pictures in that one album are fuckin’ awesome. You’re talented and deserve to be doing something you love,” he counters.
“Just leave it, okay.” Tears prick at my eyes. Stop, there’s no reason to cry. It was a long time ago.
“Rachel, I’m goin’ to give you five seconds to answer me. Otherwise, I’m bending you over my knee and spankin' your ass till you tell me,” Stoney mutters.
“One . . . two . . .” He can’t be serious. “Three . . .” Nope, he’s serious alright. The determined look in his eyes says it all. “Four . . . fi—”
“I stopped because of you, because of my mom, and because of the man she was dating,” I scream. Shit, I hope I didn’t wake Luca and Corinne up.
“You need to explain that answer,” he demands, gripping my hips tighter.
I turn my head so Stoney doesn’t see me flinch at the harsh tone in his voice. “The last time I used my camera was at the cookout right before I left for school. I’d taken so many pictures, some I wish I didn’t capture. Most of those I threw out immediately, others I kept. That night I got home, my mom lit into me, calling me a biker whore and a good for nothing bitch. Then she snatched the camera from my hands and tossed me toward Neil, her boyfriend at the time.”
I have to stop to shake my head, trying to get the images out of my head. “Neil, he . . . he, umm, groped me right in front of my mom while she used my camera to take pictures of it, yelling I was getting just what I deserved. Neither of them listened to me as I screamed in pain. When they’d had enough, Mom told Neil to put me in my room. The next morning, my mom gave me the camera back with a smirk on her face and told me to enjoy college,” I say.
“Later when I was finished unpacking, I decided to load all the images from the cookout at the club onto my computer. When I did, I found the ones my mom took and they made me sick to my stomach. The horror on my face, the smirk on Neil’s. I deleted those, wanting to get them out of my sight. But as I scrolled through the hundreds of pictures I’d taken at the clubhouse, I found a picture I’d taken of you and a clubwhore. I didn’t even realize I’d taken the picture when I’d walked in on you,” I say in admission.
“Doll,” he whispers,
