Page 140 of Finding Us
“We’re going to have a great life together, Red. The kind of life we both wished for when we were kids.”
“I love you,” she says.
“I love you too, so fucking much.” My fingers slide into her hair, pulling her lips back down to mine.
She moans into my mouth when my hands glide down to grasp her hips, dragging her clit back and forth over my hardened cock. I don’t stop until I have her whimpering and withering on my lap.
When I can feel she’s slick and ready, I lift her slightly so I can slide inside. She pulls out of the kiss, sits back, and rests her flattened palms on my chest, taking every last inch of me. My eyes roll back in my head and a long, drawn-out groan rumbles in the back of my throat when she starts grinding against me.
My fingers dig into her flesh as she starts to bounce up and down, and my trepidation about today is instantly forgotten. “Fuck, Sparkles,” I growl as my hand slaps down against her arse. “Yes, that’s a good little stripper … ride my cock just like that.”
She throws back her head and moans, and even though her movements don’t slow, I know my words irritate her because she captures my nipple between her finger and thumb, pinching it.
My body shakes with laughter. “Ouch, what was that for?”
“You’re being an arse—” Her words are cut short when I hold her in place and buck my hips off the bed, thrusting myself inside her over and over again. “Yes!” The ferocity of my movements has our bodies making a slapping sound every time we connect.
“You love my pole, don’t you, Sparkles?”
“Mason … oh, God I’m coming, don’t stop.”
I have no intentions of ever stopping when it comes to her—I want a lifetime with this woman. And when the time is right, I’m going to slip a ring on her finger to prove it.
We pull up outside the house, and the difference from my last visit here is astounding. There is now a six-foot-high, black wooden fence that runs the entire length of the premises, completely shielding the house from view.
The fence is set back a few feet from the sidewalk, and a garden has been planted along the front. The white flowers and green shrubbery soften the harshness of the black, giving it great street appeal. In the centre there is an Asian inspired gate and pergola set back even further into the yard, clearly marking the entrance.
“Mum thought the fence would give the women privacy from the street and make them feel safer. There is a code and a camera installed at both entrances.”
“I love it. Your mum has thought of everything.”
“Wait until you see inside.” My stomach churns and my grip on Red’s hand tightens as we walk towards the gate. “The code is seven-two-three-three,” Jacinta says, punching it in. “It spells safe.”
When she hears the click, she pushes it open. The yard also looks different, with more colourful gardens added and wooden bench seats placed under the shade of the two large trees. A long brick path has been laid, leading towards the front door.
The house itself, although it’s had a refresh, still looks the same. A knot forms in the back of my throat when we reach the door and I see the sign that now sits front and centre.
Welcome to Rebecca’s Place.
When we enter, the first thing I smell is paint, the second is the large vase of white roses that sit on the side table in the foyer. Above the flowers is a huge black and white canvas, it’s a picture of my mum. Underneath it are the words,‘Everybody’s safe place should be their home’.It chokes me up.
I clear my throat and move towards Grace, who stands at the bottom of the staircase with two ladies I’ve never met. I hug her first. “Thank you for everything,” I whisper.
She smiles when I draw back. “Thank you for allowing me to be part of it.”
Grace introduces me to Carol and Dianne, two of the counsellors that will be here to help rehabilitate the women that come through our doors. “It’s such a wonderful thing you’re doing here, Mason,” Carol says.
“Yes, this place is going to save so many lives,” Dianne adds, who then informs me that she is a domestic violence survivor.
After a brief conversation, we walk through the house room by room. Each one is set up beautifully.
My hand remains clutched in Red’s the entire time, and all the inspirational quotes that have been painted in fancy scroll on numerous walls throughout the house, have me struggling to keep my emotions at bay.
Together we can break the silence and bring a voice to domestic violence.
You are not the darkness you endured. You are the light that refused to surrender.
And here you are living despite it all.
