Shout (The Voice Trilogy Book 3) (10 page)

              “Let’s get on, you lot. We don’t want to keep Our Lady waiting.” The whole family files out the bright red gate and down a winding path that leads down a hill and away from the farm. Rhys takes my hand and we fall back a few steps behind the rest of the family.

CH. 14

              “You look positively ethereal, my love.” He squeezes my hand, rolling his fingers across the palm of my hand, back and forth, lulling me into comfort. “I am so happy you are here, Sophie.” As we crest a small hill the church comes into view and I stop dead in my tracks. People are filing into the small stone church from all directions and it takes my breath away. I’m moved by the scene; the little old church, the people, the landscape. I can’t believe I am here. It’s all so surreal, like a scene from The Quiet Man. A slow happy tear trickles down my cheek before I can get a hold of my emotions. Rhys swipes it away with his thumb, raising it to his mouth. “I hope those are tears of joy?”

              I shake my head back and forth, unable to form the words. It’s all just too beautiful, too quaint, and too real. I can’t remember the last time I felt so overwhelmed with a sense of peace and happiness. It’s like Deja vu, as if I’ve been here before, like returning to a home I’ve never known.

              As we file into the church, Brigid greets every smiling face and tells anyone willing to listen about me and Rhys. The women kiss his cheeks and the men shake his hand, praising him and welcoming him home. I play with the lace to calm my nerves, running it through my fingers as I’m introduced to seemingly everyone in the church

              The nave of the church is more stunning than the outside lead me to believe. Beautiful stained glass windows cast a rainbow of light across the pews and illuminate a beautiful stone statue of The Virgin Mary holding the Baby Jesus. Brigid leads the family right to the front and we occupy two narrow pews. She kneels immediately and lowers her head in prayer, as does Colleen. I slide from the bench onto my knees and do the same, thanking God for bringing Rhys into my life, for bringing me here. I close my eyes and absorb the sounds around me, parishioners greeting one another, the creaking of the old wooden benches, and the squeals of small children.

              I struggle to understand the ceremony as the Father speaks with a strong accent and slips in and out of Gaelic. When the time comes for communion Brigid insists I go with her to receive the sacrament. I haven’t had communion since I was a small girl. The bishop places the wafer on my outstretched tongue and makes the sign of the cross before I step over to Father O’Brien and he tips the golden goblet to my lips. When I turn, Rhys’ radiant smile fills me with pride and peace. I walk back to the pew, kneel and close my eyes in silent thanks as the rest of the church receives their communion.

              After Mass everyone congregates outside to visit and talk about the feast. Rhys pulls me around the side of the gray stone building, pushing me up against the cool, rough stone.

              “Is it wrong that it made my cock hard watching you take communion?” He presses himself against me, his lips sweeping across my throat. I swat at his arm in feigned shock.

              “Yes, it is wrong, you deviant.” I giggle as he slips his hand between my legs, cupping my sinfully wet pussy while his warm mouth brushes against my ear.

              “When was your last confession?” He pulls my panties to the side and begins to slowly stroke my velveteen skin. My pulse spikes as he slips a finger in my eager pussy and starts to pump.

              “Aye, Cousin! The Lord is watching!” Finn catcalls as he comes closer, his eyes firmly fixed on me.             

              “Aye, and so are you, cad. Now divert your eyes before I blacken them,” Rhys returns, sliding his hands from between my legs and turning to shelter me from Finn’s libidinous gaze. Finn laughs and slaps Rhys’ shoulder.

              “No need for threats, dear Cousin. Just trying to save you from the wolves, better me that finds ye than Ma, and she is ready to go.” I smooth my skirt as Rhys reaches for my hand and we head back to the farm, our walking party significantly larger on the return trip.

The feast starts innocently enough with families and frolicking children. The older generation sits around watching as the young men play a game of Rounders and the young girls watch in awe and giggle. The party lasts well into the morning hours, although the prayer and reverence ended when the sun went down. We dance and sing, drink copious amounts of whiskey and beer, eat until every bone is picked clean and talk until there is nothing left to say.

As the party fades into memory, embers of the slowly dying bonfire mingle with the early morning sun as it crests the hills and lights a new day. The chickens peck the ground searching for scraps as the boys clear the yard. Rhys tends the smallest fire, keeping it alive for Brigid to make breakfast, while the others are doused. The last neighbors trickle out, stretching their goodbyes and thanking Brigid for the feast, carrying baskets of leftovers with a few fresh eggs and a jar of her coveted jam.

              I wrap the lace shawl around me in protection from

the cool morning breeze that whips through the trees while I watch Rhys. William steps up next to me, wrapping his burly arm around my shoulder, tugging me to his side.

              “You did well, Lass.” He smiles with a twinkle in his eye, “I didn’t think you had it in you, didn’t think you could last.” His booming laughter catches Rhys’ attention and he watches as William pulls me closer and whispers in my ear.

“You make him happy, I like that. You make my Ma happy, I like that more. You’re a good girl Sophie Noelle. Welcome to the family.” He squeezes me and places a perfunctory kiss atop my head before practically pushing me away and stomping over to Rhys. I can’t help the surely stupid grin that paints my face, and the no doubt stunning shade of pink from blushing so deeply at his approval.

They slap each other on the back and embrace before it devolves into a wrestling match, lasting only a few short moments before Brigid appears with a frying pan and shoos them away from the fire. We all circle around as Finn places more wood on the fire and the heat from the sun and the fire mingle.

              Colleen comes out with a tray of mugs and puts a kettle on the coals. We watch the farm come to life, the sun moving across the sky while we eat and drink and reminisce about the night’s events. The sun sits high before my body protests and I have to sleep. Rhys and I are the first to leave the fire and head to bed, but the rest soon follow as the noise in the courtyard dies down. I lay exhausted in the most heavenly place on earth, Rhys’ arms.

              “I think it’s time we go home, Beautiful.” His words float across my mind as I close my weary eyes.             

              “I never want to go home.” I can barely get the words out before I fall headlong into a deep, sated sleep.

CH. 15

He calls Nina first thing when we wake to fill her in on our travel arrangements. I wander down to the fire, still slowly smoldering with a kettle nestled in the coals. Colleen hands me a cup and fills it with hot water before she starts gathering dishes to be brought inside. I take a quick sip of tea and follow her around the yard, helping her gather the last remnants of yesterday’s festivities.

              “Rhys says you are heading home soon. Do you live in New York, too?”

“I don’t.” Rhys appears in the doorway, looking at me with undefined expectations. “I live in Colorado, or rather, I lived in Colorado. Now I guess I'm just a wanderer,” I smile. “I don’t really have a home base now that my grandmother is gone. I had always hoped to hold on to her house and live there, but now that the house is gone, I'm not sure what to do. I don’t feel connected. I think when we get back I’ll start looking for a job and see where the wind takes me.”

“So, the house sold?” Rhys asks inquisitively, tipping his tea to his lips, keeping his eyes fixed on me.

“It did. It went to auction last week. Mary sent me the notice of sale.” A knot twists in my heart at the thought of someone else living in Lola’s house, the house my grandfather’s hands built, the house my dad grew up in, the house that I believed would always be my home. “It’s done.” I swear his mouth twists in a grin, but I can’t believe he would take any pleasure in my pain.

“Why doesn’t she move in with you, Rhys?” My pulse spikes at her recommendation, my face feels like it just caught fire and my palms are cold and sweaty. He just smiles and tosses the rest of his tea down his throat before turning and disappearing up the steps. My heart sinks to the cold stone floor; there’s an answer if ever silence was one. He doesn’t want me to live with him, not that I want it or have even thought about it, but hell, no response, that’s not what I expected.

“I'm sorry, Sophie, did I say something wrong?”

“No, Colleen, it’s ok. We’ve just never talked about that.” I smile sweetly and tend to the dishes that she piles in the sink. I spend the afternoon with her tending the chicks and listening to her plans for the farm.

For hours there is no sight of Rhys.

We gather around the fire as the sun begins to sink behind emerald hills and he finally appears again, an apparition, my ghost. I try to push the hurt away from earlier, his rejection by silence. He walks up behind me and wraps his arms around me, laying a manila envelope across my lap.

“What’s this?”

“It’s
our
future,” he whispers in my ear before wandering a few paces away, eyeing me intently. “It arrived a few days ago. I was going to wait until we got home,” he tips his eyebrow at me, “but now seems like an opportune time. Open it.”

I slide a thick stack of clearly legal paperwork from the envelope.
Transfer of Title
is scrolled across the top, followed by my grandmother’s address. I look up at Rhys, at the rest of the family watching me, waiting for some prescribed reaction, but I return to the stack and keep reading. I scan the page and find Rhys’ signature as the Guarantor, Nina’s signature as the Witness, and a few lines down in an addendum, there’s my name, listed under Sole Property Owner, Sophie Rose Noelle, Owner. 

Every moment I have ever had in that house flashes behind my eyes, all of us crowded into her tiny kitchen at Christmas, Easter egg hunts in the backyard, parade mornings filled with coffee and donuts and wandering neighbors. I catch a sob in my throat and swallow it back; fighting the fog that so happily shades my vision. Through the fire I see his shining face, beaming with anticipation, with pride, with love. In my hands is the one thing I thought I always wanted, yet from the moment I heard he was in that accident, I had hardly given it a second thought. I had chalked it up to a loss that I would move past, to a sentimental dream that wasn’t meant to be, and now I hold it in my hands; the deed to my family’s past, the link to the one thing I have left.

I'm reminded of those around me by the warmth of Rhys’ hand on my shoulder. I have an iron grip on the papers pressed firmly to my breast, cradled and protected, possessive. He helps me up and we wander away from the fire, away from the gaze of his family. My white knuckle grip does not relax as we loop around the yard and through the red gate, heading towards the open barn.

              “I can’t believe you did this,” the hoarse whisper barely passes my lips before he swings me around and kisses my happily tear stained mouth.

              “I would do anything to see you smile like that again, Beautiful, anything.” With the papers pressed between us, we sway in the twilight of the evening, his arms wound tightly around me. 

              “Will you invite me over?” he murmurs, brushing his lips across my throat.

              “How can I say no to the man who bought me a house?”  He teases me with his tongue before stepping back and looking me dead in the eye.

              “Don’t worry,” he reaches out and tucks a rogue curl behind my ear, “you’ll earn it, Sophie.” That dimple breaks across his cheek and I swear my flesh catches fire.

I move closer to him, running my free hand down his chest and purr, “Yes, I’ll earn it.” I pull his ear between my teeth and press myself to him, waiting for his arms to snake around me in that way that says I belong to him, but he holds me at bay.

              “You will earn it, Sophie.” I take a step back and study his face, stone with the exception of an almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his sinful mouth. I take another glance at the papers and put on my best professional face before sliding them safely back into the envelope.

              “Yes, I will earn it.” I take a step closer and tip my chin, barely meeting his eyes. “I’ll do whatever you want,” I whisper, offering myself to him.

              “I know you will, Beautiful,” he growls, pulling me closer, our bodies melding, pulses meeting, racing neck and neck. “I have a job for you.” His voice is serious before turning smug, “
you’ll see where the wind takes you
?” he snorts. The audacity of his dismay is charming and I quietly love his need to assert himself.

“I
am
the wind, Sophie, and I will take you any way I like.” He pushes the barn door all the way back, pushing me up against it. “Do not drop those papers.” His eyes are black as coal and there’s a devious curl to his mouth. My pulse spikes as his hands run down my sides before he pulls me to him, his fingers hooked in my waistband. In the space of a breath, my pants are around my ankles and his eyes flash with glee. He slowly sinks to his knees taking my panties with him all the way to the dirt. A cool wind licks at my pussy and I gasp in anticipation of his warm mouth.

He sits back on his heels and watches me tremble and writhe in the breeze like a wanton leaf dancing towards the ground. Charlie’s booming voice carries over from the fire and I freeze, suddenly so aware of my exposure.

Rhys stands, throwing me over his shoulder, my bare ass high in the air, my ankles bound by my jeans, my hands still holding on to the papers. A deep chuckle rumbles us both before he swings me back to my feet just inside the barn, backed up against the open door. The truck is gone and the barn is empty but for a few bales of hay and some rusty old parts.

              “Better?” he asks, backing away to get a better look. “Spread your legs,” he demands, not waiting for an answer, flicking his fingers to the side. I open my legs as wide as my denim shackles will allow and he moves closer. At my feet, he drops his face inches away from my open pussy, his hands firmly gripping his thighs. He blows across my flesh, sending a rattle down my spine, my hands tremble              “Hold those papers above your head.” His voice is quiet, but forceful, and I obey without hesitation. With my arms stretched above me, he slides between my legs; his hands branding the inside of my thighs, his breath making me ache. He teases and taunts, his fingers barely grazing my skin. My arms sag and my hips start to undulate in desperation as he looks up at me.

              “Keep your arms above your head, Beautiful. I want you to focus, can you do that?” I take a deep breath and look into his eyes, feeling nothing but the overwhelming need to do just as he says, as if his tone is the very switch. As I raise my arms high above my head, he slips a finger deep into my warm pussy and I am relieved. I let my head fall back and I close my eyes, papers held high in the air with my pants around my ankles. A single strong finger slides between my silky lips and I ache for more.

              He rises to meet my eyes, his fingers never leaving my pussy. His eyes flare with each thrust and I drown in his intense gaze. He grasps my face in his other hand, demanding my full attention.

“You are not alone, Sophie,” he pants. “You will never be alone again, I will take care of you. You just have to let me.”  I drop the papers to the dirt and tear at his belt, desperate to free him, to swallow him whole, shredding my fingertips.

He puts his foot between my legs and lifts me, leaving my shoes and jeans in a pile on the ground. With his hands under my arms I lift myself and wrap my legs around his waist as he pushes his pants out of the way.               His cock springs free between us, strong and hard, my pussy calling to him like a siren and he wastes no time. Lifting me away from his body slightly, he places himself at the center of my raging inferno and presses me against the rough barn wall as he slides the length of his cock into me so slowly I may just go mad.  Back and forth he swings his hips, building to a frantic pace. Our bodies slap together, hips crashing into one another. I ride him as he bucks his hips against me, his strong fingers bruising my thighs as he claims me in the dull light if the barn. When he meets his end the most delightfully raw growl escapes his throat and echoes from the worn old wood.

“Mine!”. Like a wolf howling at the moon he is lost and the sound quietly pushes me over the edge. My pussy drips around him as the warm, wild timber of his voice carries over the sounds of a fading day. His wild eyes find mine and we watch each other come down from the clouds, connected by sight, by body, by mind.

“You’ll never be alone, Sophie.”

Our last two days on the farm pass in a flash. Bridget made Rhys promise to bring me back quickly and I promised Colleen that I would work on Rhys and garner her an invitation to visit as soon as possible. Saying goodbye to Rhys’ family was like saying goodbye to my own, and left a small hole in my heart.

A quiet sadness filled the car as we drove away from the farm, the brothers calling behind us for safe travels. Before I know it, we are back to reality. The lights of New York City twinkle below us like a beacon, calling us home, back to the ravages of the city, and into the clutches of Nadja.