Home to Me

by LaVerne Clark

  And she was still wearing it. Funny how many small details he’d locked away about this woman. It only took seeing her, breathing in her scent, to have them all come tumbling out again.

  Slowly, her sobs subsided, and she pulled away to dab at her eyes with the corner of her sleeve. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He cleared his throat at the gruffness. “Want to talk about it? A problem shared and all that.”

  “Oh, Sam.” Her chin wobbled, but she bit down on her bottom lip until she’d regained control, then gave a little nod, as if affirming something to herself. “I’m scared I’m never going to be normal again.”

  He huffed out a laugh and gave her forearm a reassuring squeeze. “Normal is seriously overrated.” His attempt at levity fell flat and unnoticed at the space between them, and her chin wobbled.

  “How am I meant to find a partner, have a family, and settle down if I can’t bear a man to touch me? I’m broken, and I don’t know how to fix myself.”

  Cold fingers of dread iced his heart, radiating outward as her words registered. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been afraid of nothing. Ten-foot tall and fearless. Only one thing could have happened to cause this abrupt change in personality, the fear shadowing her eyes. As he watched, she bit down on her lip, stilling the telltale tremble.

  A red mist of rage built, melting the ice in a second, sending fire through his veins and curdling his thought processes. Forcing air through his nose, he inhaled slow and deep. Lucy needed him calm. He concentrated on relaxing one muscle at a time, his fingers unfurling from clenched fists, until finally the red mist disappeared, leaving a slight pounding at his temples.

  When he could trust himself to speak, he settled her back against his chest, his arms loose about her waist. Maybe it would be easier for her to unburden herself if she didn’t have to meet his eyes. God knew it would be easier to hear, and maybe then he’d have a shit-show in hell of keeping control of his emotions. He forced gentleness into his tone. “Tell me.”

  Her chest lifted in a deep breath. She held it for a few seconds, then let it go on a shuddering exhale. “I was so stupid. So naïve when I first moved to Aussie. I thought I knew it all. I trusted people at face value. Until I learned some people hide their true selves, to lull you into a false sense of security to get what they want.” A shudder went through her body, rattling her teeth. “And then if they don’t get it, they just take it instead.”

  She lapsed into silence, lost in reflection, and Sam fought to remain calm. He concentrated on the dual sound of their breathing. His was deliberately slow and measured; hers quick and shallow. He let the silence stretch out and stroked a hand through her hair over and over, soothing them both. Her scent rose to his nostrils as his fingers riffled through the short strands, and he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

  “Who was he and what did he do?” Keeping his voice level was proving difficult, and he cleared his throat to remove the growl that seemed to have lodged permanently at the base.

  For a moment, her body stiffened, but he continued stroking, easing her with a gentle touch. The sigh, when it finally came, seemed to come from her very soul.

  “He was a friend of my flatmate’s. One of those quick and witty guys everyone loves. The life of the party. We became friendly, and soon he starting coming around when my flatmate wasn’t around to see me. I didn’t think anything of it—just thought we were friends. I’d never given him any hint I thought of him as anything more.” She made a self-depreciating noise through her nose and shook her head. “He obviously thought otherwise.” Her arms wrapped tight around her middle before she continued with her story. “One day, he sat down next to me, closer than normal, so I shuffled over, but he only closed the gap. When I turned to ask what he was doing, he pushed me back onto the couch, and suddenly his hands were everywhere.”

  Her breathing had sped up, and Sam stroked her upper arm, his fingertips gliding over her skin, trying to impart through touch alone that he was there. She was safe.

  “I succeeded in pushing him off me enough to ask what the hell he thought he was doing, and he answered, ‘What we both want.’ ” She shook her head. “I kind of froze then. Why would he think such a thing? Had I led him on inadvertently? Then he started kissing me hard, like he was punishing me, his teeth grating on my lips.” Her fingers pressed against her mouth. “I remember tasting blood. I struggled. Told him to stop. That’s when he got nasty.” Her voice tapered into a husky whisper. “I’ve never heard such hatred in a voice before, never seen someone turn so ugly before my eyes.”

  Sam pressed his lips to the top of her head, his eyes closed as her words and pain cut through him. Murderous rage simmered under the surface of his skin, the blood running through his veins molten hot. God knew he didn’t want to hear any more. Didn’t want to see the pictures clear as day in his head, but she needed him to. Needed to unburden herself. Her hand gripped his forearm, nails digging into his skin as if anchoring herself, to stop getting swept back into the horror of the past.

  “Despite my screams to stop, to get off me, he didn’t listen. He didn’t care, just continued spitting awful words at me. I tried to get away. I really did, but he was too strong. In the end, all I could do was close my eyes and try to imagine I was somewhere else. Pretend the nightmare was happening to someone else.”

  Tears dripped onto his forearm, and his heart broke for her all over again. Now that the worst of her story was over, her fingers loosened their death grip.

  It took him a few moments to find his voice. To keep it low and emotionless. “What happened afterward? Did you phone the police?”

  She shook her head.

  “What?” His whole body tensed without his permission. “Lucy, why not? That asshole needed to be punished for what he did.”

  “I know.” She pushed away and scooted to the end of the couch, drawing her knees to her chin. “But I couldn’t.” Her eyes darkened. “My flatmate, George, arrived home soon after. At first, he was horrified, but slowly, he sided with his friend. Told me if I reported him, he’d swear I’d led him on for months, asked for it.”

  Air hissed out from between Sam’s clenched teeth as the control he’d been striving so hard for wavered. “What the fuck? He’s as bad as his mate.”

  She shook her head sadly. “Almost, but I think he had something over him. I remember the glances between them. George’s was desperate and apologetic when I caught his gaze, but sheer panic when he glanced at his friend. His”—she spat the word—“was pure, smug certainty.”

  “But surely the police would have investigated and found they were lying. There’d be all sorts of tests, photographs of your injuries to back up your statement.”

  “If that had been the only factor, I would have, Sam. I hated the thought of him getting away with it. I wanted to slap that smug look off his face. But his father is high up in the police force, his mother a respected lawyer. He informed me they’re used to making his problems ‘go away.’ I believed him. Besides, I didn’t want to go through what would have been a circus in court to find out. I’d already been through one nightmare. I didn’t think I could survive another.” She shrugged, the jerky movement making a lie of nonchalance.

  Wordless, he stared at her. She said she’d been through one nightmare, but in reality she hadn’t come out the other side yet, thanks to the perpetrator not suffering any consequences. That made him wild.

  He vowed to find the bastard and make him pay. No one hurt his Lucy and got away with it. Not while he still breathed. It didn’t matter that it had happened years ago; the fact it had happened at all and still affected her today did. He remembered the fearless girl of her youth. Knowing some of that zest for life had been stolen from her in an unpunished act of violence enraged him.

  “You don’t think I’m a coward, do you, Sam? Please understand—I just wanted it all to go away. I carried on and got on with my life. Moved to another city and found another job. It was the only thing I had control
over.”

  His gaze sharpened at the smallness to her voice. Big blue eyes were glued to his face, watching every nuance. Worry etched her forehead.

  Idiot. She thinks you’re angry with her. She needs your reassurance.

  In slow increments, Sam forced locked muscles to relax. He reached across the short distance between them and gathered her once more into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. In a few seconds, she softened and laid her head on his chest, her ear directly over his heart. The embrace was as much for her as it was for him. The wild anger receded into the background, his pulse returning to normal as the familiar feel and scent of her grounded him. Yes, the bastard needed to be punished, but he was out of reach for now. He’d keep. Lucy on the other hand was right here, and she needed him now.

  “No, honey. You’re no coward. You’re one of the strongest people I know.” Her body went limp against him, and his arms tightened in response. “You’ve got nothing to be ashamed about, so don’t you dare be thinking along those lines. I’m here, and I’m going to help you through this, okay? Whatever you need, just ask, and I promise I’ll be there for you.”

  “Thanks, Sam.” Her voice was soft, the vibration of it echoing through his veins in a pleasant buzz. He could stay like this forever, just breathing her in, holding her, protecting her. Suddenly her whole body tensed, and she lifted her head off his chest. “Actually, there is something you could help with.”

  He glanced down into her upturned face, puzzled at the hesitant tone. Curiously, her cheeks flamed bright red. She bit her bottom lip, his gaze followed, and there was that urge again.

  What the hell, man? Stop it! He gave himself a mental slap in the head. She’s hurting. The last thing she needs is another man pawing at her right now.

  “What is it, brat?” He used the nickname deliberately, hoping to remind his subconscious of their relationship. She squirmed slightly against his hip and released her lower lip. He grimaced as her soft curves pressed against his side, awakening the animal side of him that didn’t care about impropriety, and he bit the inside of his cheek. Hard.

  She opened her mouth to answer, then ducked her head. The blush had spread to the tips of her ears.

  He suppressed a smile and gave her a gentle nudge. “Come on. Whatever you need, remember?”

  “Yeah.” She opened her mouth again and then shut it so hard her teeth clacked.

  Sam couldn’t restrain his grin this time. Whatever the request, it must be a goodie. The only other time he’d seen her face this particular shade of red was just after she’d kissed him and he’d shut her down. The grin faded as a strong wave of inevitability washed over him. Looking down into her flushed face, listening to her accelerated breathing, he suddenly knew what she was going to ask of him. He sucked in a breath and racked his brain, thinking of a kind way to turn her down gently, but she got there before him.

  “I need your help to find a man.”

  “Lucy, it’s not a good idea we…wait— What?” The breath wheezed out of him as her words sank in. “Why?”

  She was biting her lip again. The poor thing would be bloody and raw if the abuse continued. Lifting a hand, he brushed the corner of her mouth with the pad of his thumb until she released it. Her eyes closed, and her chest lifted on a deep breath. On the exhale, she opened her eyes, pinning him with a determined look. Uh, oh. There she was again. The old Lucy he knew so well. The look he associated with trouble.

  “At the bar tonight, Suzie suggested it’s time to work on getting over my fear of intimacy, and I can’t help thinking she’s right. It’s been two years since I was with a man. She suggested I have friends and family set me up with decent men they trust. The more I thought about it, the more I like it. It’s perfect, don’t you think? I can move on in the relationships knowing these men have already been vetted. It’s a safe bet they’re decent.”

  “Are you crazy?” The words exploded out of him before he could tamp them down. “You’re seriously contemplating going through with Suzie’s scheme? There are so many flaws and dangers in her plan I don’t know where to start listing them. She’s not a therapist for God’s sake.” Hoarse from yelling, he cleared his throat. So much for keeping things calm, but in the face of her crazy plan, he couldn’t help it.

  “I know that, Sam. Better than anyone.” Her voice was fierce. “But the more I thought about it, the more the idea had merit. I don’t want to be labeled frigid all my life. I don’t want to be frigid all my life. And you know what? I don’t care if it seems extreme to you or anyone else. No one knows what it’s like to be in my shoes. It’s something I need to do.” Despite her obvious embarrassment, her gaze was resolute and didn’t waver. “If I don’t do something now, I’ll never be normal again. I can feel it.”

  “But…” His mind filled with images of her making love with a string of unknown men. They paraded around, smug smiles on their faces as they eyeballed him—taunting him. Blood roared in his ears.

  She glanced at his face and grimaced. “I know. It’s weird, and I’m sorry to ask you, but who better? You’re one of the few men I trust.”

  Her eyes bored into him, practically willing him to her way of thinking. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on what the situation merited—he knew her well enough to know once she’d made up her mind about something, there was little anyone could do to dissuade her.

  “I’m not asking you to find me a husband or anything,” she continued, blissfully unaware of the inferno currently roaring through his entire system. “Just someone kind and patient. I want to be able to enjoy sex again like a normal person, but I need help to do that. I don’t trust my own instincts anymore.” Her hand gripped his forearm, fingers tightening almost painfully as she implored him with her eyes. “There is no one I trust more than you, Sam. Please.”

  His body ran hot and cold as her request filtered in and all the ramifications raced through his mind in a nanosecond. She wanted him to find her a man to help her rediscover the pleasure of sex. To teach her to enjoy intimate touch, the right of all human beings, to supersede the painful memories and keep her with him in the present when the disgusting memories threatened to steal her joy. It made him feel like a pimp. The idea made him want to vomit.

  “No.” He knew his voice was ragged and harsh, but he couldn’t soften it for the life of him. “How could you ask that of me? Even if I knew of someone I could approach about that, there is no way in hell I’d trust anyone enough to treat you the way you should be. Finding a good lover is not like ordering a pizza for God’s sake.”

  She paled, and her hand dropped to her lap. “Do you know how hard for me this was to ask you, Sam?” Her throat moved in a hard swallow, and she tried to turn her head away from him to hide the tears that had sprung to her eyes, but he curled his fingers around her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  “No, Lucy. You’re not hiding from me. Look at me.”

  He waited until her gaze rose from the vicinity of his chin, and muttered a curse as a lone tear escaped over her lower lashes. Something stirred in his chest, and he swiped at the moisture with his thumb before it could track down her cheek. “You’re going to do this with or without my help, aren’t you, Luce?”

  Her jaw set under his fingers, and she gave him a defiant nod.

  He ground out another curse and opened his mouth. “If this is what you really want, what you think you need to get past this, I will be your lover. Me. No one else. Got it?”

  Her eyes grew wide, and her pretty pink lips parted as she stared up at him, her expression dumbstruck. Exactly how he felt when he heard the words trip out of him. A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He hadn’t exactly been planning to say that. But no matter that it was a spur of the moment thing; the steady beat of his heart and the sudden clearing of his head assured him it was the right thing to do. It was the only way he could guarantee her safety. Too many things could go wrong while she was so delicate, and he’d have no way of knowing until it was too
late. No way was he risking that—risking her. Not when he could stop it happening altogether.

  His grip on her chin loosened, and his thumb caressed her jaw. “God knows, you deserve to have the world at your feet, Lucy, and you deserve better, but if you’re determined to go down this path, know the only man I’ll be offering you is me.”

  ****

  Lucy stared at him.

  Had Sam really just said that? Had he really just offered himself up to her?

  His words echoed in her head, imprinted on her soul. Her heart leaped into her throat, then beat hard against the wall of her chest before her eyes dropped to the small smile playing across his lips, and ugly suspicion formed. It was a joke. A cruel one and one she’d never have associated with the Sam she’d known. She tried to ignore the disappointment slamming through her.

  “Are you drunk?” She cringed at the sharp tone to her voice.

  His eyes crinkled at the corners, and he threw his head back in laughter.

  God—that laugh. Yet another thing she’d always loved about him. It was the kind of deep and dirty laugh that urged her to join in. That made her want to share funny anecdotes with him just to hear it slide along her senses in a dark velvet caress again and again. She stared at the strong column of his throat, mesmerized by the urge to lick where his pulse visibly thrummed just under the skin.

  “No. I’m not drunk—or on any other mind-altering drugs before you ask. What makes you think that?”