Respect

by Jay Crownover

  It was a joke but it totally fell flat. There was nothing funny about any of this. I couldn't believe this strong, unbreakable man had started out as someone so shattered. I had no idea how he’d ever found all his broken pieces and put them back together again.

  “I stabbed him through the throat. I still remember all the blood and the way his eyes went blank. I had no idea what to do afterwards, so I ran to the one person who was supposed to save me, but somehow never did. My mom. She was horrified, not at what I’d done or what had happened to me, but because I’d killed her dealer’s friend. She was going to hand me over to him, let him take his revenge, but by then I knew no one was going to have my back and the bitch was going to get me killed, so I turned myself in. I was sentenced to juvie for five years because I was too young to convict as an adult.”

  I was shaking my head, and as I did I could feel moisture leak out of my eyes. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been crying, but my face was soaked.

  “Did you get out after five years?” I almost didn’t want to hear the answer.

  Slowly, he shook his head. “No, I didn’t. Juvie is no joke. It’s a bunch of homicidal kids ready to go all Hunger Games on one another. It’s as bad as big boy prison. When I was sixteen, they put me in a cell with a guy who got grabby. After everything I’d already been through, I had a short fuse and quick temper when it came to being touched. He climbed into my bunk when I was asleep one night and it didn’t end well for either of us. He ended up in a coma on life-support; I ended up with an attempted murder charge and time in the big house. The day I was put into general population, the kid’s older brother found me. He was the head of one of the Aryan gangs that ran lock up. He and two of his guys got me alone in the shower and . . .” He trailed off, voice cracking as his eyes narrowed. “Well, they made sure I got the message that my time in prison wasn't going to go smoothly. He cut my face open to serve as a constant reminder of what they’d done. He told me every time I looked in a mirror I would see him.”

  He exhaled long and slow, taking several, painful minutes before speaking again. “When I was in the prison infirmary, the doctor taking care of me talked a lot. He told me all about this place he was from called the Point. He said he left because the city was too violent and the bad guys were taking over. He was sad to see small town America wasn’t much better. He told me about Novak, and how the guy had a son who was one day going to take everything from him. He told me about a mysterious stranger with an accent who had shown up out of the blue and was already changing the rules of the game. He explained how sharks like Benny thrived and viewed everyone else as prey. He told me it would be a good place for me to go if I survived long enough to get to the end of my sentence. I didn't have much education, but there were always people in the Point looking for guys who knew how to keep their mouths shut and do what had to be done. He was actually the one who suggested I start bulking up while I was behind bars. I was small, but he said it was from being undernourished when I was younger. I hit a growth spurt at eighteen, and by then I’d put on enough muscle to keep pretty much everyone off me.”

  I sniffled and angrily wiped my hands across my damp face. “What happened to the guy who cut you?”

  Booker shook his head again and the scar on his cheek flexed involuntarily. “He died. Gang fight in the yard with a rival Latino gang. It happened while I was still healing. I was relieved, but I was also pissed I wasn’t the one who ended him. I had that in me. I could have killed him for what he did to me. He was right. I do think about him, and prison, and every choice I made that landed me there . . . every time I look in the mirror. When I got out, all I was good for was bashing heads, so I took Doc’s advice and headed to the Point. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen, and yet, exactly where I belonged. Violence is all I know, Karsen. The man who lives this life,” he shrugged, “it’s who I am, who I was always meant to be.”

  I pulled in a shaky breath and wrapped my arms around myself. He might not be interested in a hug, but I sure as fuck needed one. “Can we stop? I don’t care where. I need to get out of this car.” I needed to move. I needed to hold him. To kiss him. To make his future better because his past was so very bad. I needed to breathe.

  “Uh, sure. I wanted to keep going a little longer but there’s a motel off the next exit we can crash in for the night if you’re done.” He seemed off balance and far more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him. He would have to be after telling me all of that. He was no one’s victim anymore. He made sure of it with every single thing he did.

  “I’m done.” I was done wanting him and not having him.

  I was done seeing him as something he wasn’t.

  I was done being alone and lost when he was the only man who had ever bothered to come find me.

  We might not have forever, that was something you learned early on when you came from the places we did, but we had tonight and I was going to make the most of it.

  “We only need to get one room, okay?” My voice was husky and there was no mistaking the invitation laced throughout.

  “One room. Of course, we’re getting one room. I’m not letting you out of my sight until we’re back in the Point.” His eyebrows shot up and then immediately danced down.

  I nodded. I knew that. But, there was another reason I was requesting only one room. “One room. One bed. One night. One good memory for both of us to hold onto when all the stuff that feels like it’s going to ruin us gets to be too much. It doesn't matter where we are, we’ll always have this one good thing that is just ours.”

  A lascivious grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “Oh, it will be better than good, puppy.”

  I had no doubt he was right, and it was one promise that absolutely worked for me.

  Booker

  I had no idea how Karsen could want me after everything I’d just laid at her feet.

  When we first met, I knew a lot of her infatuation came from the fact I saved her, took a bullet meant for her sister. The hero worship went a long way to cover up all of my most glaring flaws.

  Now she knew I was weak. A man made from the circumstances a kid couldn’t fight out of. I couldn’t protect myself when it mattered most. There was no reason for her to view me as anything but another victim, a tragedy that really had no end in sight. But there wasn’t an ounce of pity in her better-than-brown eyes. The only sign my story had hurt her were the tear streaks on her cheeks and the way her long eyelashes spiked together with moisture. I was so certain hearing where I came from and showing I had never been a man in control of anything, even my destiny, would kill whatever lingering crush she had on me. Where I was from, and where I was going, were both places that had no room for someone as sweet and as hopeful as Karsen Carter. She deserved to be in the kind of art that hung in famous museums in Paris, not the kind that was hastily painted on the side of crumbling buildings and quick-moving trains.

  Despite knowing how much better she could do, and despite feeling raw and exposed after telling her about how I ended up on her doorstep, I still only asked for one room at the cheap motel when I checked us in. It was a mistake. We both knew that. But it was one we were going to make willingly. Falling together when her life was in danger and while mine hung precariously in the balance was no better than falling for one another when she was too young to understand how dangerous it would be for her. The timing was never right, never in our favor, but now, we were diving in. Damn the consequences. This was a mistake we were making together with eyes wide open. One we’d been ready to make since the first time our tumultuous lives intersected.

  The room was surprisingly clean and had the overwhelming scent of lemon disinfectant lingering in the air. I watched as Karsen let out a relieved breath when she noticed there were no bloodstains on the carpet and the comforter on the bed actually looked pretty new and mostly untouched. I threw her suitcase on the bed and hefted my own duffel bag to my shoulder, tilting my head in the direction of the small bathroom. Sure, I wanted to get my hands al
l over her long, lean body. I wanted to jump at the chance to finally know what it felt like to have those slender curves under me while she writhed and moaned in pleasure. But I’d also been trapped in a car all day after a night of zero sleep, had disarmed a tweaked-out gunman, and narrowly escaped a hit and run at high speeds in the dark. I was supposed to be unflappable and unmovable. However, the minute Karsen was in danger, all of that went out the window and every nerve I had started to shake. Stress sweat was twice as bad as regular sweat, and I could smell myself from a mile away.

  Karsen gave me a curious look when I turned toward the bathroom. I could see her watching me in the mirror hanging over the sinks outside the bathroom door. She didn’t look mad, just slightly curious and maybe a little tired. She’d been through the wringer right alongside me. I promised myself that I would leave her alone if she was asleep when I was done with my shower. Even sleeping next to her for the night was far more than I’d ever thought I’d get, and that would be enough to make the happy memory she talked about making for us to hold onto when times were tough. Times were always tough. I would have to hold tonight for when things were unsalvageable. Otherwise, it was all I was going to think about.

  The hot water felt amazing. Even if I had to duck a bit to fit under the showerhead—one of the pitfalls of being so big in places made for normal-sized men. Finally, some of the tension that kept my shoulders locked and my neck so tight started to release. I scrubbed my short hair and rubbed my hands over my bristly face. I usually kept the whiskers to a minimum. The side where my scar was grew in patchy and not altogether even. The last thing I needed was to draw more attention to that part of my face. I couldn’t remember if I packed a razor or not, and as clean as this motel seemed, I doubted they were the kind of facility that had toiletries on hand for guests. The scruff was going to have to stay until I found the time and the means to take care of it. It wasn’t the worst thing ever. Altering my appearance was a good way to keep whoever was trying to track down Karsen on their toes.

  I looked down at my dick. I was already half hard and wanting. Between the fevered kiss in the parking lot, and the handful of Karsen in the front seat of the car, the poor thing was feeling left out and lonely. Not anything new, but for once the thought of taking the problem into my own hand didn’t appeal to me at all. Not with the young woman who inspired so many of my jerk-off fantasies in the next room. Grumbling under my breath about bad timing and a lifetime of terrible luck, I ran soapy hands over my chest and the cut lines of my stomach.

  I was still considering taking my cock in my soapy hands and chasing down some quick relief when the shower curtain was pulled back and I ended up face to face with a very naked, very beautiful Karsen Carter.

  I had to blink the water out of my eyes to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. I was turning to fully face her when she put a hand on my shoulder and told me to hold still. She used her hold on me as leverage to climb into the shower behind me, yanking the curtain closed behind her.

  “I guess it’s only fair you get to run away from me. I did a pretty good job running away from you when it came time to put up or shut up.” I wordlessly handed over the bar of soap I was loosely holding when she made a gesture with her hand.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin at the first touch of her hands on my shoulders as they slipped and slid over the heavy muscles of my back. I didn’t bother to stifle a moan of appreciation when her strong fingers dug into the coiled muscles at the base of my neck.

  “I wasn’t running anywhere. I smelled bad and I was giving you space to change your mind.” I was trying to do the right thing. It wasn’t something I’d ever been taught how to do, of course, so I was bound to screw that up.

  “I’ve had four years to change my mind, Booker. If there was a way for me to kill all the feelings I have for you, I haven’t found it yet. And believe me, I looked everywhere. I’ve done everything I can think of to show you I want you, want this. I guess all that’s left for me to do is take it.” Words, even spoken so clearly and so sure, could be misconstrued. Actions I understood. Actions didn’t lie.

  I sighed when I felt her lips brush the back of my neck and shivered when her slick hands skidded over the curve of my ass. I knew what she could see when she saw me bare and on display like this. A big body littered with healed bullet wounds, scars from being stabbed and sliced open, abraded flesh that healed wrong after it was torn from my body. I masked some of it with tattoos, most of them hastily done while I was locked up. A few were more professional and actually looked good. None of them covered up all the battle scars that ran beneath. It wasn’t a pretty sight by any means, but Karsen touched me like she was handling one of those priceless works of art. No one, not a single soul in my entire life had ever put their hands on me in such a gentle, reverent way. I could feel my knees shaking, my heart struggling to keep up with my frantic thoughts that were ready to put the entire world at this woman’s feet.

  “I’m a fucking mess, Karsen.” The admission flew out before I could think to stop it. I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned forward until my forehead touched the tiles that rested under the showerhead. “I don’t mean my face or the rest of my body. I mean my head. My insides. My future. All of it is so fucking ugly and bleak. I’m a giant black hole, a huge void, and it is selfish and wrong of me to ever want to pull you into any of that.”

  She didn’t say anything for a long time, just continued washing my back, even going so far as to drop to her knees behind me so she could run the soap up and down my legs. My cock was throbbing, harder than it had ever been, and already leaking from the engorged head. I knew it would take only a couple of good tugs and I would be painting the tiles in front of me with my release. My balls were raised up tight to my body, and every place she touched zinged with a mini electrical current that felt like it went right between my legs.

  “What if I’m not being pulled in, Booker? What if I’m walking in willingly?” Her melodic tone was rougher than normal.

  I was going to ask her what she meant by that when she suddenly climbed to her feet and draped herself against my back. All that smooth skin pressed against mine nearly had the top of my head coming off. I could feel the twin points of her nipples driving into either side of my spine and the soft press of her sex into my ass. When she reached around in front of me and wrapped a hand around my painfully erect dick, I almost let loose and came on the spot.

  I had to count backward from one hundred to keep myself from exploding at her first tug on my dick. Involuntarily, I growled from low in my chest and moved my legs farther apart so she had more room to work.

  “Between you and me, I like the Point just the way it is. Yes, I’m glad it’s safer for women and children, and yes, I’m glad people don’t have to live in fear for their lives every single day. I love that it’s turning into a place people want to stay and a place people want to be. But I liked it a little rough and broken. I liked it unpredictable and wild. I liked that you had to fight for your right to call the Point home. None of the dirt or danger ever bothered me.”

  Her lips kissed along my shoulders and lingered for a second on my spine.

  The sensation of her lips made my eyes cross as much as the way her thumb slowly circling the leaking slit at the tip of my cock did. Her touch was steady and strong. She wasn’t playing around. She had to know how close I was. Every time she squeezed the shaft, the heavy, thick flesh would jump eagerly in her palm. When she traced the pulsing vein that ran along the bottom with a barely there brush of her knuckles, my hips kicked forward into her hand, fucking into her fist, which of course made me immediately think of fucking her. Her hand was good, soft, warm, and tight. There was no way it could ever compare to the heaven found between her legs.

  “You were safe, Karsen. You had Race and Bax at your back from the second you stepped into the Point. Most people don’t have that. They could never see the Point the same way you do.”

  I felt her nod, her forehead tapping right between m
y shoulder blades as she continued to jack me off. I was struggling to breathe, eyes screwed tightly shut so this wasn’t over before it even started. This was the most insane and erotic hand job I’d ever received.

  “Right. I know that. But I’m saying it’s all about perspective. Other people see the Point as this awful place full of crime and terrible people. To me, it was always home. It’s where I felt the safest and most loved.” Her warm breath hit the back of my ear as she put a hand on my shoulder and used her grip to lift herself onto her toes. A whole-body shiver shook me like a leaf. “The Point is beautiful if you look at it from where I’m standing, Booker.” Her teeth latched onto my earlobe and I hissed her name through clenched teeth. I didn’t want to know how the shy little girl, the one who used to follow me around with puppy-dog eyes, learned to be such a talented seductress. All that would do is add to my already-high body count.

  “Are you comparing me to the Point, Karsen?” One of her hands was trailing along the sharp V on the side of my abs and working its way over my flank. My thigh muscles flexed in response, and I felt her smile on the side of my neck. My hands curled into fists as that wandering hand found its way between splayed legs and started to lightly stroke my balls. My dick was already hard enough to pound nails. The added stimulation pulled an embarrassing whine from my throat. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood so I didn’t come in her hand the second she started to fondle the tender sac hidden between my legs.

  “I’m telling you that I know you’ve got bad inside you, Booker. It’s painted all over this big body of yours. I know you’ve got darkness inside of you, a lot of it. I know it drives you and influences the choices you make. I’ve always known that. But from where I’m at, I can also see the good in you. I know there’s light inside, even if I’m the only one who can see it. You know why I can see all of that when no one else can?” Her voice was almost as raspy as mine when she asked the question.