Graphite: The Carbon Series Book 2 Read online

  "Night, Kip."

  As the minutes tick by, I'm starting to question why I shouldn't marry him.

  Kissing Poppy's forehead I hold her a few minutes longer than usual. "I love you."

  "I love you," she repeats me and I smile.

  "Night, big girl." At the bedroom light, I blow her a kiss, staring at the little girl that keeps me sane.

  Her and Kip do have a bond, as much as I want to act like she wouldn't care either way. It's not like she'd be heart broken if I stopped talking to him, but I think she'd question it. And it's not like she'd be ecstatic if I told her I'm marrying him, but I think she'd be happy. I quietly exhale a breath while she rolls to her side. For my daughter, I need to do the right thing. Every decision I make in life is for my daughter. I often wonder how different her life would be if her twin brother were here with her. I think about him daily, almost as obsessively as I do his father. And he'll never understand how he saved his sister's life. My life.

  My head's full of questions and confusion and I need to be alone. The subtle pulse in my clit makes me grit my teeth because it started the second I thought of Callum. I'm insane, completely and utterly insane, but as long as I keep it to myself, I don't have to feel shame. My body's almost convinced me to slip into my bedroom and ignore Kip waiting for me. Take care of the ache at my core that's never truly satisfied because what I do to myself is nothing like the real thing. But I deny its plea and I descend the hall.

  "You want to watch a movie?" Kip asks.

  The most pitiful fake yawn pushes from my mouth and I almost roll my eyes at how unbelievable that was. "I'm tired. I work early tomorrow. My mom's taking Poppy to school."

  "Okay. So…" The way he approaches me makes me take a step back. His thick fingers grab my hips and he tugs me toward him, grinning down at me. "Fiancé."

  My true feelings are almost expressed with a groan but I force a smile. "So I'm going to get to sleep and you should call me tomorrow."

  We don't live together, but he stays over a few nights a week if he's in town. Thankfully he was here last night, so hopefully he'll want to go home. I need him to leave so I can try and wrap my head around this. He's been at my side since he's proposed and we went through the motions of acting excited. He wanted to rush to my mom's to tell her but I couldn't. However, I did have to call my sister to tell her because he made me pose, showing off the ring and he posted the picture to social media. My mom won't see that, but Mary would have and she would have killed me. To say Mary was as surprised as I was is an understatement. She was even more shocked to learn I didn't say no. It's not that she doesn't like Kip, but I think she knows as much as I do that I don't belong with him. I actually don't belong with anyone. That's the thing, I should be single, focusing on my daughter. My relationship with Kip occurred too quickly after I had my children. There was no time to decompress from everything that happened. But here I am, engaged to Callum's ex longtime friend while fantasizing about Callum fucking me.

  Jesus, what am I doing?

  "Really?" He's frowning and I almost feel guilty enough to take it back.

  "Today's been really..." I chuckle looking at my hand. "Eventful. I need a full night's rest. We…"

  My attention's held by the twinkling diamonds. Each time it catches my eye something doesn't feel right. The sparkle, cut, and size are nothing like my first ring. And that's a good thing, but each time I look, I expect to see Callum's mother's ring on my hand and sickly feel disappointment upon realizing it's not.

  I don't fucking want Callum!

  "We have to plan how we'll tell my mom." I manage to smile while I say that.

  "She's going to be ecstatic." A kiss assaults me and I hate I feel this way.

  I feel assaulted by my boyfriend's lips. When he used to kiss me, I would feel comfort, but right now I feel violated. Then again, that's what my fantasies are all about these days. Being violated, practically murdered by my ex-husband during sex, and I've never orgasmed so hard. I wish I wanted this with Kip, I wish I could tell him my kinks, but I won't. And this is exactly why I'm in therapy.

  "Your mom loves me," he says, still smiling, having no idea my thoughts are on Callum.

  My mom doesn't love him; she tolerates him. Which is saying something because she barely tolerates me. After the Carbon witch left with my son, my mother and I haven't had the same relationship. The lies I had to spew shattered me, and nothing short of the truth will fix that. But she can't know the truth.

  It takes thirty more minutes but he leaves. I pour myself a glass of wine and sit on the couch with the intention of turning on the TV and trying to act normal, but nothing is normal anymore. I am in therapy to help cure me of the disease Callum put in my head and Kip has no idea what I confide to my doctor. We've never spoken about it, but I would imagine he thinks I'm in therapy because my life was threatened. That's partially it, but that wasn't what drove me to seek help. These fantasies of allowing Callum to kill me while he fucks me is what made me find someone that could handle the load I'm constantly carrying.

  "Fuck, Mag," I mutter with my left arm outstretched and my eyes on the ring. "No." I gulp my wine. "All you had to do was say no."

  "But you didn't."

  I jump and wine sloshes down my front and over the couch cushion.

  That voice. My body is both tingling and frozen in fear. Blinking my eyes rapidly, I'm trying to rid Callum from my thoughts. It's been such a long day.

  "Did you, Magdelena?"

  The voice isn't in my head. Realizing this, I jump to my feet and look behind me. He's here. Standing by the front door. A deep blue suit was made for his perfect body. His dark hair and beard are trimmed immaculately, just as they always were. High cheekbones scream regality and those eyes threaten pain. That face. Such a pretty face. But that soul. An abomination. And upon remembering that, I skitter backward.

  "N-n-no!" Managing to get my legs moving properly, I'm headed for Poppy's room. "Poppy!" I scream for my little girl, wanting her to hide or run. Run as far away as she can. "P—" His hand clamps over my mouth while his other arm wraps around my waist and I'm tackled to the ground. His weight is pressing against my entire body and I feel him everywhere, including places he's not. I want to claw at myself to dig the lust out of my veins.

  "Don't be stupid, Magdelena," he says in my ear, not letting up as he keeps me restricted.

  My body is writhing but every move makes me completely aware of him against me. It doesn't take long before I give up. It's pointless; he's not going to let me do either.

  "Don't scream," he says and my eyes close as his breath heats the skin over my neck. "Do you hear me?" The growl to his voice makes me nod quickly.

  Slowly he removes his hand from my mouth and I inhale to scream but think better of it. No one that will help can hear me and if I scream for Poppy again, she'll come out. I don't want to make it easier for him to hurt me. He never had an interest in his daughter, so I'm sure her life is as meaningless to him as mine is.

  With the hand he had over my mouth he reaches across my body and grabs my arm, letting up from laying over me to roll me to my back. Now he's face to face with me. His leg has mine pinned down and he's holding my wrists.

  "My Pleasure," he says, looking into my face like he's piecing it together. I want to close my eyes and make him go away, but he's here. A nightmare of desire. "Oh, Magdelena." He chuckles and one hand releases my wrist to push the hair out of my face. His other hand releases my other wrist but slides up my palm to my fingers. "You didn't say no." The calm, soothing tone to his voice makes me shiver and I watch his mouth quirk up on one side, but his focus is on my hand as he wiggles the ring off my finger. "Did you?"

  "P-please." I didn't mean to stutter. "What do you want? Please don't hurt me."

  A deep laugh causes his chest to press into mine, crushing my lungs, giving reprieve, crushing, breathe, crushing. Just like I fantasize about. The hand he had at my hair moves down our bodies. It slides over my pussy and my
eyes go wide until I realize he's shoving my ring into his pocket. He's not trying to molest me. My pussy throbs and I try to clench my muscles to stop liquid from pooling in my underwear, but it's useless. My heart is a jackhammer. I think I'm going to die. But my confused body is at the utmost point of sexual awareness.

  I'm fucked in the head.

  "What do you want, Callum?" I whisper, trying not to let him hear the tremble in my voice.

  "If I get up, are you going to try and run again? I'm not much in the mood for chasing you."

  "Are you going to hurt me?"

  The smirk on his face says yes, but his words say, "No, Magdelena. I won't hurt you." He gets up and grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet. "Pity." He's focused on the red wine stain on his white shirt. When he startled me, showing up out of nowhere, I soaked my shirt and it must have transferred to him.

  Such a pity, Callum. Take it off.

  Shut up!

  "How did you find me?"

  The sight of him untucking his shirt makes the tremble in my body become heavy with lust and I clench my jaw. I was trembling in fear but differentiating fear and desire when it comes to Callum has become a real problem.

  "Sit down, Magdelena. We need to talk."

  "Not until you tell me why you're here," I demand but when he quirks his eyebrow, I realize he just told me it's because we need to talk.

  "We need to talk," he repeats.

  "About what? You need to leave. I'm going to call the police." That might be the biggest lie I've ever told. Germaine informed me of my fate if I went to the police. The gruesome message was relayed on Callum's behalf.

  "No you won't," he states like the confident prick he is and walks to the couch. "Do you have a solvent?" His eyes are on the red wine staining my cream sofa and I quickly look around for something I can hit him with that will either kill him or knock him out.

  My options are a magazine, a picture frame, or a baby doll. I'm fucked.

  "Callum," I growl, attempting anger and authority. "What the fuck do you want?"

  "That stain will set in." He's pointing at the red spot that will probably only quadruple when he murders me. But his eyebrows are high and the grim line his mouth is in tells me he fully expects it to be cleaned immediately.

  With a huff I storm to the kitchen for cleaner. My pace slows and I casually walk to the counter, ready to open the drawer and grab a knife, but I hear him sigh as if he knows my move.

  "Magdelena, I'm too tired and I don't want to hurt you. Please come sit down. I won't hesitate to restrain you again, but it's going to get messier." I turn in time to see him glance down at his stained shirt.

  "How the hell did you get into my house?" I know that answer. Kipper didn't lock my door and that makes me want to strangle him. For this very reason.

  "I walked through the front door and you were so busy ogling your ring, you didn't hear me."

  I wasn't ogling. Far from it.

  "Normal people knock," I grit out, shoving past him with the cleaner for the couch.

  "We're well beyond normal in this situation, Magdelena." He chuckles, right behind me.

  As I stand at the mouth of the hallway, I point an angry finger at him. "Don't follow me. I have to get a towel." The last thing I want is for him to be around Poppy. Luckily my girl stays asleep most nights.

  His eyes flit around then land on my cell phone that's sitting on the coffee table, indicating calling for help isn't an option; he backs off. That was a fail. I could try to boot up my laptop and somehow contact someone for help…but I'm not sure I would have enough time. Closing my eyes briefly, I spin and walk down the hall, quietly opening the cupboard and withdrawing a washcloth. If only there was a weapon. Unless I want to wrap him in sixteen towels, there is no help for me in here.

  "Callum." I clamp my jaw when my voice wavers as I enter the living room. I can't talk to him right now. Giving him the satisfaction of knowing I'm afraid of him makes me feel pathetic. Getting to my knees in front of the couch, I start spraying the stain. The moment his fingers faintly run through my hair, I freeze. This is absurd. "If this stain offends you that much." I pop to my feet and shove the spray against his chest. "You clean it."

  I give no fucks about this stain right now. The last thing I want to do before I die is clean. When he squats and starts scrubbing, my eyes go wide, then stupidly drift down to that tight ass his suit pants are hugging. Those horrible fantasies start to ripple through my belly and I quickly turn away, needing him out of my sight.

  Suddenly he grips my wrist. I hadn't even heard him move, but when I look at him like he's crazy I realize he thought I was running for a weapon or something. I wasn't, I was just trying to get these insane ideas out of my head.

  "Why are you here?" I ask angrily, trying not to breathe because all I can smell is him. Before it was wine, but now it's like I bathed in his scent.

  "I really don't want to fight with you all night."

  "Then tell me why you're here," I grit out, sick of this game. I physically feel like I could throw up from fear, anger, and lust. Lust should not make me want to puke.

  His head jerks and his gaze focuses down the hallway. "Is someone here?" he questions, looking at me again. "I watched Kipper leave."

  I go tense hearing Callum acknowledge he knows Kip was here.

  "Who is that? Your mother? I heard something," he says quietly but angrily.

  I didn't hear Poppy, but she may have gone to the bathroom or something. The fact he doesn't realize my little girl lives with me makes me furrow my brows.

  "Cat," I lie.

  He looks toward the hall again then sits on the chair across from the sofa. When he gestures to the couch, I huff, but turn toward it and pause, seeing he got most of that stain out. Shit, I can't even remove a stain from black clothes. How the hell did he manage this?

  "I'm only going to ask you one more time. Are you here to kill me?" I sit to the right of the damp spot.

  "You never asked me that stupid question."

  "Stupid!" I fling forward, wanting to leap across the table and slap him. Strangle him. Just get my hands on him.

  "Yes. Stupid. Why would I want to kill you? The mother of my child?"

  "He's my child." That's probably the stupidest thing I've ever said, considering I haven't even seen my poor baby since he was only a few minutes old.

  "That's why I'm here." He leans forward and rests his forearms over his thighs while one hand wraps around the other fist.

  Who knows what he has to say about this. Probably something fucked up like he wants to sell my son back to me. I'd pay it. Anything he asked.

  "Tell me what happened," he says after a few minutes of a stare-down. I'm trying to figure out how to get the money he'll request. I know how I'd get it, but I wonder how long he'd give me. "Magdelena? What happened?" he repeats.

  "You know what happened," I mutter in both fear and aggravation. This subject isn't exactly an easy one, especially not being had with the psycho behind it all.

  "That's where you're wrong. Not once did you deal with me. Now tell me what happened." When he shifts to the edge of the seat, his unbuttoned suit coat slides back and exposes a gun strapped to his side.

  My wide eyes stay on the weapon he'll more than likely use on me tonight and a whimper escapes. I flit my gaze to him and he looks perplexed.

  "Speak, Magdelena. Tell me. Now." He's getting louder.

  Not wanting him to wake Poppy and use the gun on both of us, I clear my throat. Stuttering, I don't know where to start and I'm rolling my hands, trying to think of something to say.

  "You never told me you got pregnant," he starts for me.

  "I didn't expect to go full term. I fully expected to miscarry," I tell the truth. Especially after finding out it was twins, I thought there was no way I would see the day I'd deliver my babies.

  "But surely at some point you realized you were going to give birth." He's patronizing me but I'm too scared to care.

  My eyes drop
to the gun again and he looks down. Grabbing the sides of his suit coat, he pulls them forward and sits back in the chair, his arms settling on the arm rests.

  "Y-yes." I nod. "But you had already sent your grandmother with the ultimatum."

  "What ultimatum?" His eyes narrow, but he knows. He's the one that sent her.

  "To give up the baby if it was a boy."

  "And you said okay? This didn't bother you?" He stands and casually roams my living room, observing magazines and mail.

  "You were going to kill my family," I say through gritted teeth because this game is already old, but I have to play.

  "That's what she told you? Correct? Hand over the baby if it's a male or your family will die?"

  I nod. "Along with myself. You'd kill us all and take the baby."

  "And then what?" He stops at the wall right before the hallway and my body starts to shake again, worried he'll wander down it and find Poppy.

  "And so I did," I respond, watching as his eyes narrow and he moves closer to a picture of me and Poppy.

  Raising his hand, he points to the framed picture. "You." He pauses and looks from me to the photograph of us at the Statue of Liberty. "Who is this?"

  "Poppy." Her name almost comes out a whisper.

  "You had a child with him?" His calm demeanor lights up to an inferno I can feel across the room and he turns to face me. "You had a fucking child with him? Please tell me this is your sister's child."

  "What?" I shake my head in annoyed confusion.

  "Whose child is this!" The question almost rattles the walls and it sounds the alarm.

  Poppy shrieks for me and his eyes go wide. I dart for her room, grateful he doesn't stop me. Rushing in, I scoop her into my arms.

  "Shh, it's okay. Go back to sleep." Holding tight, I rock my baby.

  I can't wrap my head around Callum's confusion and while I try to get Poppy back to sleep, I contemplate slipping out the window with her. Part of me wants to go out there and slap sense into Callum, the other part that's not mental says run. Apparently I'm more unsound than I thought, and when Poppy's breathing evens out I lay her down and cover her, kissing her temple. I quietly close the door, which I don't normally do, but crazy man can't keep his stupid mouth shut.