I gave Ben directions to my apartment, and he pulled up to the entrance and jumped out of his seat to open the back door for us.
“Thanks. I’ve got it from here,” I said, as I got out with her still in my arms. I didn’t want him coming in with us. I didn’t want anyone else with us.
“I’ll help you with the doors,” he offered, but I told him no.
“How else are you gonna get her inside?” he argued. “I get that you don’t want to let her go, but you can’t open every door with her still in your arms.” Then quietly, with his head down, he sighed. “I love her too, you know.”
It felt like a knife in my heart to hear him say those words. She wasn’t his to love, she was mine. I wanted to push past him and get her as far away from him as I could. But in reality, I knew I couldn’t hold on to her and get her safely inside. I had to swallow my pride and admit I needed help to get through the building and upstairs.
Ben and I travelled up in the lift in silence, and when we pushed through the last door into my apartment, I turned and thanked him, but told him to leave.
“I’ll stop by tomorrow to see how she is.” Ben looked at her with a longing that made my stomach knot and refuelled my anger. I needed him gone, before he got a taste of the rage still simmering inside me.
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to fuck off, but I pushed it down. Instead, I chose to kick the front door closed in his face. Locking him out and us in; separating us both from the cruel world outside.
I kissed her on the head as I carried her into her room. Then I lay her on the bed and stroked her curls out of her face. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Even tonight, after everything she’d been through, she still took my breath away. Her long, delicate eyelashes fanned over the top of her soft cheeks. Her full pink lips open slightly as she breathed gently. I prayed she’d wake up with no memories of whatever that fucked up monster had done to her in that room, but I knew that’d be wishful thinking. It wasn’t just her body he’d tainted, it was her mind too.
“No one will ever hurt you again,” I whispered.
I don’t know if she’d heard me, and maybe I was saying it more for myself than for her, but I needed to say it. I’d do whatever it took to help her, get her the counselling she needed to heal. I’d be there for her every step of the way. I knew more than anyone how cruel men could be. It was why I’d built walls of steel around me, why I was the hard-faced, cold asshole I was. It made me a winner, a survivor in this jungle. I could be cruel too, but even I had a code. I had my limits. Lovall was one of those rare breed of fuckers who had no code whatsoever. I’d never hurt a woman in my life, no matter how much they pissed me off, but he did, and on a weekly basis according to the talk on the underground. There was a special place in hell reserved for the likes of Lovall, and I felt some vindication that I’d been the one to send him there.
I took a seat in the corner of her room and watched her sleep, ready to soothe her should she wake up and need me. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out to see a message from Cill.
Cillian: Clean up sorted. Luca’s men took out the trash. How is she?
I typed out a response, letting him know that she was still out of it. He replied instantly, telling me she’d probably be under the spell of the drugs for another few hours at least.
I wasn’t sure if staying in her room watching over her was the right thing, but I didn’t want to leave her alone. Have her waking up to a dark, empty apartment, frightened with no one to comfort her the moment she needed it. I wanted to tell her when she did wake up, that she’d never ever have to see him again. That I’d dealt with it. That she was forever safe with me.
I woke up to a banging head, like a sledgehammer had been embedded into my temple. My whole body was aching and stinging like hell, and I felt disorientated about where I was. My throat was gritty and raw, and I could’ve downed gallons of water. I was so unnaturally thirsty, beyond dehydrated. Cautiously, I narrowed my eyes to look around the darkened room, and was surprised to find myself back at home. Well, Jackson’s home. What the hell had happened to me last night? I tried to delve into the darkest recesses of my brain and recall any tiny shred of a memory, but all I could remember were vague flashbacks of the evening. I remembered arguing with Jackson, and walking away from him to drink at the bar in the reception hall. Then I saw Mason Lovall in my mind, spilling my drink and being a clingy asshole. After that, it was all a blur.
I tried to pull myself up into a sitting position in the bed, but my upper arms and chest were stinging, and felt painful and weak. Had I been in an accident?
A gruff sound came from the corner of the room, and it was then that I noticed Jackson had been asleep in the armchair in the corner. He was still dressed in his suit, and he looked exhausted. Had he been there all night?
“What’s going on?” I asked. “And why are you in here?”
He pushed himself off the chair with unnerving wariness, as if I was some timid animal he was scared of frightening away. Then he moved slowly toward the bed and sat on the edge, looking at me like I might shatter or explode at any moment.
“It’s okay, you’re safe now.” Concern etched his handsome face as he gently reached forward to touch my hand. I didn’t move away. I let him touch me. “What do you remember, Ryley, about last night?”
What did I remember? Not an awful lot. I told him what I could recall and his face screwed up.
“What’s the matter? What did I do?”
I expected him to inform me that I’d made a spectacle of myself the night before, maybe causing a scene or raising hell. He didn’t though. He took a deep breath and asked me if I really wanted to know. What kind of question was that? Of course I wanted to know. Why wouldn’t I?
The words he spoke next were like an axe, tearing down my world; my comfortable, pure and well-intentioned yet gullible existence. He spoke with gentle, calm tones about the brutal evil that’d almost devoured me, ruined me. I started to scratch at my skin, feeling as though a billion ants were crawling all over me, biting and clawing to penetrate my soul.
I felt sore all over, but there wasn’t pain between my legs. I had to ask though.
“Did he rape me?” I started to cry as I said those words.
“No. He didn’t get the chance. I found you in time.” Jackson sighed wearily. “Have I done the right thing? Telling you all this?” He squeezed my hand as he spoke.
“I needed to know,” I answered, but I wished I didn’t. I wished I’d never met Mason fucking Lovall. Even thinking his name sent me into a panic, and I started gasping for air. “Where is he?”
Jackson’s face took on a mask of fury. “He’s gone. He won’t ever touch you again. You have my word.”
“Shouldn’t we call the police?” I said on instinct.
Jackson stiffened. “No.” Then he thawed slightly. “Well, if that’s what you want I’ll call them for you, but they won’t find anything. I’ve dealt with it. He’s gone.”
I shook my head and didn’t push any further. I wasn’t ready to know what ‘dealing with it’ meant to a man like Jackson, but I had a pretty good idea. Did I feel guilty about that? No, not in that precise moment, and I figured having the police sniffing around wouldn’t be very wise either.
“I need to use the bathroom.” I winced as I tried to stand up, and Jackson moved forward to grab me, then pulled away.
“I don’t want to scare you,” he said, obviously unsure about how to handle me after my ordeal. “I know you don’t trust me.”
A burning sensation gripped my heart at his admission. He was so far off the mark.
“Apart from my dad and my brothers, you’re the only man I trust in the whole world right now.”
I meant it too. Who else would have done what he did last night? What he was still doing for me this morning. I was pretty sure Justin wouldn’t have stepped up like that. I admired Jackson for being thoughtful of my predicament, and putting my feelings first.
His body became less tense, and his face took on a softer tone. I reached out to him for support, and he held my elbows, letting me lean on him. I noticed I was wrapped in some kind of sheet, so I pulled the edges tighter around me to give me some privacy.
“Thanks.” I smiled up at him, and then shuffled off to the bathroom.
I pushed the door closed and then let the sheet drop to the floor. However, I wasn’t fully prepared for what I saw in the mirror. Angry, ugly bruises covered my upper body, painting it in shades of yellow, black and purple. But it was the disgusting red bite marks on my breasts and stomach that made me cry out in pain.
The door burst open mere seconds after my cries, and Jackson ran inside looking ready to commit murder. I tried to cover myself with my arms, conscious I was standing stark naked in front of him. He pulled a bath towel from the wall and came to stand behind me in front of the mirror, wrapping my body in the warm, white fluffy cocoon.
“I’m so sorry.” He held the towel around me and hugged me close to him as he buried his head into my neck. Feeling his body so close to mine was like a shot of adrenaline, bringing my ailing body back to life. “I wish I’d found you earlier. I should’ve never let you walk away from me last night. I should’ve been there to protect you.”
I reached out from under the towel to touch his arm, offer him some type of comfort.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
He looked up at me in the mirror. “It wasn’t yours either.” I knew what he was trying to do, obliterate any guilt I might be harbouring from this whole sorry, sordid attack.
“Thank you,” I said, meeting his gaze again in the mirror ahead. “Thank you for saving me.”
He tried to smile, but sadness overwhelmed his eyes.
“I’ll always find you, Ryley, whenever you need me. I’ll always be there for you.” He kissed the top of my head. “Do you want me to run you a bath? The warm water might ease the pain. I have some Arnica somewhere in my first aid kit. That might help too.”
He really was my guardian angel, my dark angel, and I was so thankful to have him in my life. It’s insane how everything can change in the blink of an eye. If you’d told me months ago that Jackson Caine would be my saviour, my lifeline, I’d have laughed in your face. Now, I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it.
“You’ve done enough. I can run my own bath.” I sighed, securing the bath towel around me and turning to face him. He reached up to hold my face in both of his hands.
“But I want to. Please let me help.”
“Okay.”
I sat on the edge of the bath as he poured some kind of oils in and ran the water, swirling his hand around to check the temperature every so often. Then he came back over to where I sat and kissed my forehead.
“I’ll leave you to it. Call out if you need me. I’m here for you.”
Then he left. I felt like a part of me left with him as he closed the bathroom door. It was like I’d woken up to this new, deeper connection that was forging between us, binding us together. I wanted to be around him. He felt safe, my dark damaged warrior.
“Jackson?” I called out. The door reopened seconds later and he stood there, an aura of hope, fear, and expectation emanating from him. “Please don’t let what happened last night make you treat me differently.” I didn’t want to be mollycoddled or wrapped in cotton wool. I liked to think of myself as a fighter, after all. I might not have chosen the right weapon to fight with when I found out about Justin, but I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
“But you are different,” he replied. “And it’s my responsibility to look after you.”
The old me would’ve called him out on his sexist comment, but I didn’t. I knew he liked to be the powerful, protective type, but his comment went deeper than just protecting me, I could tell. He wanted to feel needed, that I needed him. Maybe I did. I sure as hell wasn’t making a very good job of coping with my life on my own at the moment.
“I meant you don’t have to handle me with kid gloves. I’ll be okay,” I elaborated.
The smile he gave me melted my fragile, fractured heart. “I know you will. You’re the toughest woman I know. Just remember, you’ve got me in your corner too, okay?” He went to walk away before adding, “And I’m not known for being gentle, Ryley, so don’t worry on that score.”
It was surprising how quickly we fell into a comfortable pattern of life together. All the time getting closer, but not quite close enough, like we were dancing around each other. Jackson was the only man I felt safe with after that night. I knew I couldn’t lock myself up in the apartment forever. I had to face up to life. But for those few weeks after the attack, our days spent together were all I could manage. And yet there was something missing, something between us felt off.
The first day, Jackson told me I needed to stop the drinking. I agreed with him. I’d been using alcohol as a way to numb Justin’s betrayal. But that wasn’t working, and it only led me down a darker path.
“It won’t be easy. You’ll probably crave the drink, and hate me for denying you, but I don’t care,” he stated. “I’d rather you hate me than hurt yourself with that poison you were putting into your body.”
He made me clear out all the alcohol I had in my room, including my secret stash at the top of the wardrobe and behind the drawers. Then he gathered every last bottle from the apartment, along with his prized single malt, and poured it all down the sink.
“You didn’t have to get rid of your whiskey. I know you like a glass after a rough day.” I felt guilty that he was going cold turkey with me.
“I have other ways to unwind,” he said, throwing the last empty bottle into the recycling. “Anyway, I want to support you in any way I can. What kind of guy would that make me, if I sat here drinking in front of you?”
He walked over to where I stood by the door, away from the enticing, sickly-sweet alcohol fumes that lingered by the sink. He stroked my face gently with the back of his hand as he spoke. “We’re in this together. You and me.”
I liked the way that sounded. It made some of the delicate cracks in my heart slowly piece back together. Gently, I leant into his touch. The warmth of his hand on my skin made sparks reignite within me. I wanted him to take charge, turn those sparks to flames, but he seemed to be the master of holding himself back. Either that, or he just wasn’t that into me.
“You’re not at all what I thought you’d be when I first met you,” I said, looking up at him, my eyes as wide as saucers, wondering what he’d say next. Willing him to say something that’d give me a clue as to how he felt, and put my fluttering, fragile emotions at ease.
“Nobody ever is, angel.” He sighed, with a stormy sadness behind his eyes.
My lips curled up at his use of a nickname for me.
“Angel? You never use nicknames. I’ve always been Ryley. You don’t even like Cillian calling me blondie or Tink, do you?”
He put his forehead against mine and my mouth opened on a gasp. Was he about to kiss me? Did I want him to? What a stupid question, of course I did.
“No, angel,” he replied on a whispered breath. “I don’t like nicknames. I never have. But for you… angel feels right. You’re my angel.”
I let out a slow breath and closed my eyes, but he didn’t make a move. He just pecked my cheek and then walked away from me. Leaving me feeling all kinds of wound up, emotionally strung out, and yet hopeful there was something there. I hadn’t just dreamt it up in my fucked up state of mind. What was this thing happening between us? How had all this crept up on me so suddenly? I felt butterflies of nerves swoop around my body, yet I couldn’t deny the tingle of excitement. Like a seductive seed that he’d planted months ago without my knowing, and I couldn’t ignore the fact that it was growing out of control now. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to.
Days later, Jackson brought up the topic of counselling. He thought it’d be a good idea for me to speak to someone professionally about my drinking, the
issues around Justin, and the attack.
“You know I love having you around the place, all to myself, but it’s not healthy. You need to get out and I think you’re avoiding it. I’ll go with you if that’ll be easier, or the counsellor could come here. Whatever makes you feel more comfortable, angel.”
He really was my dark knight in well-worn armour. Imperfectly perfect for me and all my fucked up baggage.
With all his commitments and business dealings, he’d put me right at the top of his priority list, and I had to admit, I liked it. No one else had ever taken the time out to care for me like he did. Not Justin, not even my brother. Travis had always fobbed me off for some other drama he had going on in his life. It felt nice to be someone’s priority, to be sheltered with a tenderness that Jackson never seemed to show to anyone else in his life.
“I’ll definitely think about it,” I told him, hoping to placate him somewhat, but questioning whether I was really ready to let someone else into my bubble of safety. “Just give me a little longer, okay? I feel more peaceful now than I have for a long time. I kinda want to hold on to that for a bit before I have to dredge up all the shit I’ve buried lately.”
He smiled and nodded. He got me. He always did.
We found ourselves settling into a cosy routine. Cosy, but oh so frustrating. Most days he’d pop into work when Sylvie was around to keep me company, but he was never away for very long. Sometimes Cill would come round to see how I was, but he always knew never to outstay his welcome. It was the nights that became my favourite hours, and my own private torture. Watching T.V. together with snacks, sitting so close that our legs would touch, sending bolts of longing through me. I hated how the yearning churned me up inside, but I wouldn’t have traded those hours for anything. Me taking the piss out of Jackson for his lack of knowledge on popular culture, and him getting all kinds of irritated at my teasing. He was totally clueless, so I enjoyed introducing him to my favourite shows; Game of Thrones became a particular favourite of his. I’d seen them all already, so I enjoyed watching him watch certain episodes, seeing his reactions. All the time we were getting closer than ever before. I felt myself opening up to him in a way I’d never done with anyone else. In the past, I’d never sat talking and just being with Justin like this, but with Jackson it felt so natural, so right.
This Cruel Love (A Dark Hearts Stand-Alone Novel Book 2) Page 18