Cowboy’s Healing Heart

18. Midnight Escape

EIGHTEEN

MIDNIGHT ESCAPE

KRYSTAL

"If you walk out that door, you're no longer my son. Do you understand? You'll be cut off. No more money, no more connections. Nothing."

I stand frozen in the hallway, my heart pounding as Mr. Kennedy issues his demands.

Shane's voice carries through the partially open door of the sitting room. He's defending me to his parents, his words passionate and fierce. But I can't let Shane do this.

I press my hand to my mouth, stifling a gasp. The weight of Shane's words settles heavily in my chest. He's choosing me over his family, over everything he's ever known. But instead of joy, all I feel is a crushing sense of guilt.

I can't be the cause for ruining his life. He'll never forgive me.

"Shane, please," his mother begs. "Think about what you're saying. That woman... she's not built for this life. She'll never fit in. Is she really worth throwing away everything we've built?"

I don't wait to hear Shane's response. I turn and flee down the hallway, my footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. I slip into our bedroom, closing the door behind me with a soft click.

The room feels different now, colder somehow. I sit on the edge of the bed, my fingers tracing the intricate pattern on the duvet. How many nights have Shane and I spent here, wrapped in each other's arms, dreaming of our future?

But those dreams feel hollow now, tainted by the reality of our situation.

I twist the engagement ring on my finger, watching as it catches the light. It's beautiful. But it's not real. I'll never be Mrs. Shane Kennedy.

I walk over to my laptop, opening it with shaking hands. I sent out some inquiries for jobs back in South Dakota, and my cousin Kenzie said she'd check into positions in Silver Ridge. It's not in South Dakota, but it will get me out of New York.

I open my inbox and see a response from Kenzie.

Hey, cuz, that job at Peterson Ranch is still open if you're interested. Big Bear says they could use someone with your skills. Call me when you get this message.

My heart races as I send a quick response accepting the job. I'll work out the details once I'm out of this house. I move to close my laptop and notice another urgent email.

My stomach drops as I read the sender: Jordan's attorney.

The message is brief but threatening. They're pushing for full custody, citing my "unstable lifestyle" as grounds. The words blur as tears fill my eyes.

No. I won't let him win. Not this time.

With trembling fingers, I dial Jordan's number. He answers on the second ring, his voice smooth and confident.

"Krystal, what a pleasant surprise."

"Cut the bullshit, Jordan," I snap. "I know what you're trying to do."

He chuckles. "I'm just looking out for our daughter's best interests."

"By trying to take her away from me?" I clench my fist, anger burning hot in my chest. "I've got news for you. I've saved every text, every voicemail, and every email. How would your prenup hold up if she knew about us ?"

There's a pause, and I can almost hear the gears turning in his head. His excuse was always that he couldn't leave his wife, and after digging, I found out she is the one with the money.

In fact, I met her folks at the gala. It's a small world.

Thank God they didn't know who I was. But I was in the right place at the right time. And now I'm about to bust his balls. I'm fibbing about the prenup, but it's what I'd do if my parents gave me trust. And just by his response, I'm right.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me," I growl. "Back off, Jordan. Or I swear I'll burn your whole fuckin' world to the ground."

I hang up before he can respond and exhale a shaky breath. For the first time in years, I feel free. It's intoxicating.

But it's not enough. I know I can't stay here.

I move to the closet, pulling out a suitcase. Each item I pack feels like another step towards freedom: Ashanti's favorite sweater—the one she insists on wearing even when it's too warm—and my old work boots, scuffed and worn but comfortable as a second skin.

As I fold a t-shirt—one of Shane's that I've claimed as my own—memories flood back. The first time he held me, how safe I felt in his arms. Making love under the stars. The future we'd planned together.

Tears blur my vision, and I sink to the floor, clutching the shirt to my chest. God, I love him. But I can't stay. I can't be the reason he loses everything.

The sound of the bedroom door opening startles me. I quickly shove the suitcase under the bed, wiping my eyes as I stand.

Shane enters, his face etched with concern. "Krystal? Are you okay?"

I force a smile, but it feels brittle on my face. "Yeah, just tired. How'd it go with your parents?"

"Same old argument. They don't understand why I won't just fall in line with their plans."

I swallow hard, guilt gnawing at my insides. "I'm sorry. I know this is hard for you."

Shane crosses the room, pulling me into his arms. "Hey, none of that. You're worth it, Krystal. You and Ashanti... You know that, right?"

His words, meant to comfort, only twist the knife deeper. I bury my face in his chest, breathing in his scent, trying to memorize every detail of this moment.

Shane's hands roam my body, his touch igniting a fire under my skin. I respond eagerly, desperate to lose myself in him one last time.

So when he takes my hand, pulling me towards the bed, I follow without hesitation.

A soft glow from the bedside lamp fills the room in a romantic glow. I'm hyperaware of every detail—the drapes, the duvel, the smell of his cologne.

His eyes hold mine, an unspoken question hanging between us. I see the desire burning in their blue depths, which mirrors my heart's turmoil.

"Shane—"

He silences me with a kiss, his lips claiming mine. His hands find my waist, pulling me against him as his tongue tangles with mine. I taste the whisky on his tongue and feel the heat of his skin against mine, and I know this is right.

"God, I need you," he growls, his voice hoarse. "I can't get enough of you."

"I'm yours, Kennedy," I whisper against his lips, the words slipping out before I can stop them. And I mean it—I'm his in every way that matters.

There's no gentleness in our movements as we tear at each other's clothes. His hands are everywhere—sliding up my thighs, cupping my breasts, tugging at my hair. My nails dig into his back, leaving red marks in their wake as I cling to him.

I gasp as he lowers me onto the bed, his mouth trailing down my neck, across my collarbone. His touch is everywhere, igniting a fire in my veins. I'm burning up, consumed by the need for more.

More of him, more of us. If only we had more time.

Shane's mouth continues its journey south, his lips closing around my nipple. His tongue flicks over the hardened peak, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core. I arch into him, my hands tangling in his hair.

His teeth scrape against my sensitive skin, and I cry out, my body thrumming with desire. He moves to my other breast, giving it the same torturous attention.

I writhe beneath him, my hips bucking as I search for friction. Shane chuckles, the sound dark and promising.

"Please," I beg, not caring how desperate I sound.

"So eager," he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. "But we have all night, Krystal. I'm going to take my time with you."

Shane continues his exploration, his tongue tracing patterns across my stomach. His mouth hovers over my hipbone, and I feel him smile against my skin.

His fingers brush lightly between my thighs, teasing me with promises of what's to come. I'm wet and aching, my body vibrating with need.

How will I live without this? How will I live without him?

"Shane," I whimper, my voice barely more than a whisper.

"What do you want, baby?" he asks, lifting his gaze to meet mine. "Tell me what you need."

"Fuck me, please," I say, my voice cracking.

He shakes his head slowly, his eyes glinting. "No. You're mine tonight, Krystal. All mine. And I'm going to claim every inch of you."

He slides lower, his shoulders spreading me wide. His breath is hot against my center, and I tremble in anticipation.

Finally—finally—he closes his mouth over my pussy, his tongue delving deep.

"Fuck!" I cry out, my head thrown back. It's too much—it's not enough.

Shane eats me out like a starving man, his groans muffled by my flesh.

Whispers of, "....your mine..." between each lick. "Mine."

My hips buck wildly, seeking more of him. He holds me down firmly, his strong hands pinning me to the bed.

I'm lost to the pleasure, my body singing under his skilled mouth. When he adds his fingers, curling them just right, I explode, my orgasm crashing through me like wildfire.

Oh my god... How will I walk away?

I lie panting beneath him, my limbs boneless. But he doesn't stop. He keeps licking and sucking, drawing out every last wave of my pleasure. I'm shaking and spent when he finally pulls away.

"I'm not done yet," he murmurs, kissing my inner thigh.

He crawls back up my body, his mouth finding mine in a searing kiss. I can taste myself on his lips, and it only fuels my desire.

"Fuck me, Shane," I plead again. "I need you inside me."

He hovers over me, his weight pressing me into the mattress. "Look at me, Krystal."

I meet his gaze, my heart pounding.

"Shane, please."

"Please what, baby?" he teases, settling between my legs. "Tell me what you want."

"You," I gasp as his cock brushes my entrance. "I want you inside me."

His eyes flash with triumph. He pushes forward, filling me completely in one long thrust.

"Oh god," I moan, my nails digging into his back.

"You feel so fucking good," Shane growls in my ear. "Have I ever told you how much I love your pussy?"

He pulls almost all the way out, only to slam back in, his hips slapping against my ass.

"Have I, baby?" he repeats.

I shake my head. "N-never."

"Well, I fucking do," he says. "And I'm going to show you how much."

He sets a punishing rhythm, driving into me again and again. I'm a moaning, writhing mess beneath him. Each thrust hits that spot deep within me, and I'm quickly spiraling toward another orgasm.

It's as if he knows that we'll never do this again.

"Hard, Shane, I want it all," I plead like I can take the feeling with me.

He gives me what I want, fucking me hard and deep. The king-size bed creaks beneath us, and the headboard groans with each powerful thrust.

He reaches between our bodies and pinches my clit, twisting the sensitive bud between his fingers. I shatter, my walls clamping down around his cock as I come undone.

I cry out, not caring who hears or who I wake.

Shane fucks me through my climax, his hips never slowing. When I finally come down from my high, he rolls us over so that I'm straddling him. His cock is still buried deep inside me, throbbing with need.

"Ride me, Krystal," he orders, his hands on my hips. "Take what you want, baby."

I brace my hands on his chest and start to move, lifting myself up and sinking back down on his length. His fingers find my clit once more, and he rubs quick, firm circles around the swollen bud.

"I'm going to come," he growls, his grip tightening on my waist. "Come with me, Krystal."

"Again?"

"Yes, love, again."

His words are enough to send me over the edge again. My third orgasm hits me like a freight train, my pussy spasming and clenching around his dick.

Shane lets out a low groan, and his cock twitches. Then he's coming too, spurting hot and deep inside me.

We collapse onto the bed, our bodies spent and our breathing ragged. After a moment, Shane pulls me close, kissing my forehead and whispering sweet nothings in my ear. He tells me how beautiful I am and how much he loves me.

He presses gentle kisses along my shoulder, his arms tightening around me as if he never wants to let go.

"I love you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

"I love you too," I whisper back, my lips finding his in a soft, tender kiss.

I feel the weight of my decision settle over me, and I realize just how much I have to lose. That I'm deciding to walk away from the only man I've ever truly loved.

Does this make me a coward? Will he hate me?

Tears sting my eyes as I cling to Shane, knowing this might be the last time I feel his skin against mine.

After Shane drifts off to sleep, I slip out of bed. I dress quietly, gathering my packed bags. At the door, I turn back for one last look. Shane looks so peaceful, unaware of the storm in my heart.

"I love you," I whisper. "I'm sorry."

With tears streaming down my face, I close the door on the life I almost had. The hallway stretches before me, long and dark. Each step feels like lead.

I pause, leaning against the wall as sobs threaten to overwhelm me. I want to run back, crawl into bed with Shane, and pretend this was all a bad dream.

But I can't. I have to be strong for Ashanti and for myself.

I enter her room and shake her gently.

"We have to go," I whisper urgently.

"What about Mr. Shane?"

"Now, Ashanti. Please. We need to get moving, or we'll miss our flight."

She hesitates for a moment, then nods, her face set in a determination that breaks my heart. She's had to grow up too fast, my brave girl.

We slip out the door into the cool night air. As we hurry to the car, I can't shake the feeling that I'm making a terrible mistake. But I push it down, focusing on the road ahead.

Montana. A new start. A chance to build a life on our own terms.

Just as I'm about to open the car door, Shane steps out of the shadows, his voice cutting through the night.

“Going somewhere?”