“Wow, I never knew that.” Her hand traces where my hands just were. “I guess I can see how it would be hard. Dad would often tear up at any picture of Tanya.”
She pauses for a second, her tone changing. “By the way, are you going to tell me what’s up between River and you?” It’s such a sudden conversation shift between us, and we maintain a deep and prolonged stare.
I break the silence, with every bit of realization I’ll not win this round. “If it were any of your business, I most likely would tell you, but considering I give zero fucks if you care, I won’t.”
Her eyes glisten at my harsh words. “Mom always claimed you were the world’s biggest SOB when you’re upset.”
I move toward her; the desire to be within the same airspace as my goddaughter overwhelms me. I don’t need to escape, as is my ploy with many after getting what I want. And more importantly, I’m lost as to what I want with the mini clone of Tanya’s. To say I want to sink my raging cock into her wet cunt is an understatement. But do I fucking care?
“I know this is a hard time of the year, but you may regret not celebrating Christmas. I wanted to give you an option to decorate this year.”
Kenzie stands still, and her smart mouth stays mute. Taking a step back from me, she covers her mouth with her hand, her eyes watering, about to overflow.
“Kenz, it’s just an idea. I won’t push you, and if you don’t want to decorate, I’ll have Charles take down all the Christmas shit today. I didn’t want to make this decision for you or River.”
As though she’s not sure where she should look, she avoids eye contact. In a shaky voice, her reply is barely audible. “One minute you’re an ass, and the next minute you’re worried about us, letting River and me decide what’s best, which by the way, you barely do. When I think I want to hate you, there’s a little bit of the man I used to call Uncle Isaiah.”
She’s giving me a backhanded compliment, and I’m conflicted about how to reply. “I mean, I can be an ass if you’re more comfortable. Do you want me to demand you celebrate Christmas?”
Reaching back behind her head, she begins to scratch at the base of her neck. “Glad to see the original Isaiah still lives inside of you. I’ll tell you what.” Her voice is upbeat, and I’m not sure how she’s reacting to my suggestion. “I’ll talk to River and ask him what he thinks. But, then again, if I feel animosity toward you, he seems to feel it tenfold.”
“And,” I say as she halts at my words, and part of me wants to say, good girl. But if she had a thoughtful reply, it would simply have my dick aching painfully against my suit pants. “It seems like you and River are quite cozy now?”
She opens her mouth to talk and only fumbles at a reply.
“Don’t worry, you’ll find your words eventually. Until then, I’m going to the dining room for breakfast. Be sure to find me if your words come, and you’re able to talk like a normal person.”
I’m out of the living room, lined with both Tanya’s and Shannon’s Christmas décor. I revert to my douche-like ways when I’m uncomfortable. Having a hard-on for the girl who I held at her baptism and swore to protect in the absence of her parents is painful in more ways than one; considering with a retort from her sassy mouth, may have me creaming my pants.
River is in the kitchen, drinking out of the carton of orange juice. “Fuck, River, pour yourself a cup of OJ. No one wants your cooties.”
He stares at me and has my attention, and then does the unexpected and spits into the OJ. “Now you won’t touch it, like you won’t touch me.”
I stay still, dumbfounded by his actions, his words.
“I’ve had more than enough out of you, boy.”
I charge him, and his glare is void of emotion. “What will you do, Ize? Will you actually fuck me this time? Is it what has to be done to have your dick inside of me? Huh?”
His words are affecting me more than they typically do. “River Hanson, I swear to…”
“You swear to what, Ize? Will you run your nails down my back? Do you want to rim my asshole? Do your best to me, motherfucker.” He hands me the OJ, and I take it out of shock with his words. “Here, you can have a little bit of me, until you get a fucking clue that you and I aren’t over.”
I’m rarely, and I mean fucking rarely, knocked off of my axis, but with River this morning, it’s exactly what I am. And I’m fucked when it comes to both kids.
Chapter 11
Kenzie
For three weeks, I’ve lived in the mansion with Isaiah and River. My relationship with River has changed. We spend almost every night together. It’s typically in the shared game room or his music room as I listen to some of his new songs. They’re sad, reflecting on his grief at losing Mom and Dad.
I love to sing, and he’s played some of my favorite Christmas carols. When I’m not screaming or crying at the loss of Mom and Dad, we share movies and hot cocoa. We’ve even gone outside in the Montana snow. Isaiah has a great hill, and we’ve sled down it several times. We’ve made snow angels and even have had a couple snowball fights. I could get used to this side of River Hanson, and I’m afraid it will be yanked away from me and the hurt will be so much greater.
Each night, I use the images of Isaiah and Riv to get me off. I may be a virgin, but like River, I have needs.
It’s lunch when my day meets up with River. He enters the cafeteria, the last day before school breaks for Christmas, because our school doesn’t believe in long holiday vacations. River’s larger-than-life presence is known to me as he gives me a slight nod.
My nose is in a book, as per the typical Kenzie Hanson vibe I give off. Solie, my only true friend, slides into the same booth but across the table. I’d seen her at the funeral, but with Isaiah’s edict of our life-changing commands, we’d not talked. And I’ve not had a chance to share all about my life changes, with barely attending school. Most of the days I can hardly pull myself from my bed, but today, I was feeling a little bit better. But my days ebb and flow. Who knows what it’ll be like tomorrow.
“Kenzie, my girl,” she begins because Solie has as many friends as I do, so I’m really her girl. “What the hell are you doing here? I went by your house yesterday, and it was on the market. By the way…” She pulls for a french fry of mine. “Do you check your texts anymore?”
Solie has been known to ask up to twenty questions before she takes a breath. Today I get off lucky with just a couple.
“Long story short, Isaiah is over the estate. He’s put the house on the market because the homes are selling like hotcakes and bringing in quite the profit. He says we’ll get more money if we sell now. And because his house is big, he thinks it’s no problem to just move in with him.”
She takes at least ten french fries, chewing them as her head has to be spinning with questions. With Solie, it’ll be a fuck ton, I’m sure. I push my plate over to her since my lunch is hers today. But I’ve barely eaten. I can’t. All I want is to crawl onto the couch with my mom and snuggle under a blanket as we catch up on The Bachelor. Or maybe go fishing with my dad. Hell, I’ll even take one of those forced proximity outings where they acted as if River and I were your average siblings, who fought for the show but got along behind closed doors. One was true, and one was not.