Seeking Redemption

by Kylie Hillman

  Feeling my scrutiny, he lifts his head and meets my curious gaze. He looks embarrassed, the redness spreading from his neck and up to his cheeks a dead giveaway. When he attempts to send a poor excuse of a smile in my direction, I shrug, playing it off as nothing. I want so, so very badly to yell at him and demand that he explains himself, but I can’t. He’s done nothing wrong, in spite of how his actions make me feel.

  Gesturing around the tidied kitchen, I break the silence that’s festering between us. “Are you up for a shower? I’ll deal with the dishes while you do that.”

  Cocking his head to one side, he regards me. “Why are you doing this? I fucked you over big time.”

  “No you didn’t. We fucked each other over,” I speak the cold, hard truth. “Go and shower, then I’m going to trim that mop on your head while we talk.”

  Nodding, he salutes and a small glimpse of the real Benji shines through. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “And shave off whatever you call that stuff growing on your face.”

  Listening to him laugh as he heads for the bathroom gladdens my heart. The hard bit is coming so having a little lightness between us beforehand can only help.

  I busy myself loading the dishwasher and wiping down every surface I can, tamping down on the stray visions of Benji naked in the shower when they appear in my head. As gaunt as he is, he’s still an incredible looking man. My attraction to him, coupled with my feelings and spending time in his presence, are reminding me that it’s been months since a man touched me. Using my memories of him to get off hasn’t been an adequate substitute, the throbbing in my core is telling me that in no uncertain terms.

  Once I’ve finished cleaning up, I pull open his fridge and inspect the contents. Apart from beer and a dead head of lettuce, there’s nothing in the way of food. Checking the freezer compartment, I find a few frozen meals that have Wendy’s efforts written all over them.

  Pulling out a pasta dish and a garlic bread, I place them both in the oven and set about tracking down a decent pair of scissors so I can fix his hair.

  “Is this good enough?” Benji asks as he strides into the dining area, in nothing but sweatpants, still toweling his hair dry. He’s not playing fair. It’s almost as if he’s trying to upset my equilibrium with his nakedness. Although thinner than I’ve ever seen him, every muscle in his torso ripples as he dries his hair and the outline of his cock is visible, letting me know he’s commando under his pants. It bounces and sways when he moves, making my mouth drop open and the pulsing in my clit intensifies to a new level.

  My voice squeaks when I answer him, “Much better.”

  He falls into the dining chair that I’ve moved into the kitchen, and I take the towel from him and wrap it around his neck. Running my fingers through his hair, I enjoy the silky texture as it falls. Without thinking, I run my finger down his clean jaw.

  “So much better,” I whisper to myself.

  Realizing what I just did, I shake myself in an attempt to snap out of the lust-filled state he’s put me in.

  “How short?”

  I tug a lock of his hair so he knows what I’m talking about.

  “Not too short, Lacey,” he replies, “Time for something new, I think.”

  His statement can be applied to so many things that I can’t take it at face value. Maybe, just maybe, he feels like I do?

  “Something new could be good for you.”

  “It can’t be any worse than the old.”

  I’m not touching that sentiment with a barge pole. Especially, when I have to tell him that the old is about to rear its ugly head and bite him.

  Concentrating on his hair, I quietly cut it. Taking just enough off the ends that he no longer looks unkempt, but leaving enough length that it’s different to his usual haircut, I shape it as well as I can. Before I was bit with the nursing bug, I was determined to become a hairdresser so I’m confident enough in my skills that I’m not going to make him look stupid.

  Neither of us say another word while I work. Benji sits motionless, head and shoulders straight. The shower must have sobered him up enough that he doesn’t feel the need to fidget. He certainly smells better, in fact, when I lean closer to him, I realize that he’s wearing the Gucci cologne that I gave him for his last birthday.

  “Done.”

  He runs his hands through his locks, messing up my handiwork.

  “Feels good.”

  We need to talk. We both know this, yet we’re tiptoeing around each other. I don’t want to be the first to broach the elephant in the room because I’m afraid of his reaction.

  What’s his excuse?

  “Lacey,” he says at the exact moment, I say “Benji.”

  Nervous laughter bursts from the pair of us, and it’s enough to break the tension. I pull his arm and lead him to the dining table. Making quick work of serving the food I’ve reheated in the oven, I place a plate in front of him and one in the spot facing him.

  “Let’s talk while we eat,” I say as I take my seat.

  Benji nods, appearing grateful for something to do with his hands. We both toy with our food, shooting furtive glances at each other. I’ve lost my nerve now that the moment has arrived.

  “I know you told the Club about the Mavericks.”

  My heart skips a beat. Was all my worry for nothing? Are they letting him off the hook because of his addiction? For some reason, I can see Maddi working her magic on them all and pulling a miracle out of nowhere.

  “And you don’t hate me?”

  He shakes his head at me, a rueful smile flitting over his features. “Fuck no. We both knew it was going to come out one day. I can’t blame you for something that I knew would happen when I agreed to it.”

  I feel lighter than I have in days. Tears of happiness escape from my eyes and run down my cheeks. Benji hasn’t had a miraculous recovery when it comes to dealing with emotions so he drops his head and concentrates overly hard on eating his pasta, pretending he can’t see me weeping. He stays like that until I get myself under control, checking a couple of times when I stop sniffling to make sure it’s safe to resume our conversation.

  “What the fuck happened to your face?”

  I touch my bruised cheek. My makeup must have washed off with my tears, exposing the discoloration left on my face from Maddi a few days ago.

  “Maddi.”

  Her name says it all. Benji breaks into a grin that he tries to hide behind his hand and I can’t stop myself from laughing with him.

  “She’s fucking nuts,” Benji laughs. “Doesn’t matter what I do, she’s still out there defending me.”

  “She loves you. You’re her twin. When you hurt; she hurts.”

  Sobering at my proclamation, he inclines his head in agreement. “I used to be the same. I lost it somewhere along the way.”

  “It’ll come back,” I promise him, my voice strong and sure. “When you get clean, you have to dig up all the things you buried and make amends for them so that you can stay clean. I’ve got four months under my belt and I’m still seeking redemption for most of my sins.”

  “I know all about that. The only reason I’m still standing is because I’ve been given a way to earn forgiveness.”

  Once again, I drawl one word, “Maddi.”

  “Got it in one. She’s come up with some fucked up plan to get revenge on the Mavericks and Thomas Taylor at the same time. I’ve got to keep buying meth from them until I find out how involved Thomas Taylor is with Mad Dog’s arrest. We already know the Mavericks were part of it, but the Club thinks they needed help from the cops to pull it off.”

  Benji shrugs, acting as if he’s undecided about the Mavericks involvement. The half-hearted effort makes me think that he’s hiding something. What could that be? I wouldn’t have a clue. Although, if he knows anything that can help, he needs to come clean as soon as possible.

  “According to my loving cousin, acting as a traitor to the Shamrocks should be second nature by now, considering I have so much fuc
king experience at it.”

  A bad feeling settles in the pit of my stomach at his confession. I can imagine Smoke throwing that last sentence at Benji with relish. He’s called me numerous times over the past few days, having decided that I’m not to blame for anything. He’s laying it all on Benji’s head, despite my protests.

  “So they’re not trying to get you clean?”

  “Maddi is. So’s Timber and JJ, but I think the rest of them have written me off. Joel hasn’t spoken to me in months. Hell, he moved out after our bust up.”

  I vaguely remember Maddi mentioning something about a fight with Joel. The three of them are more like triplets—when Maddi isn’t around to take care of Benji, you can guarantee that Joel will step into her place. Losing his support would’ve thrown Benji for a loop.

  One thought bounces around my head, screaming for attention.

  I can’t leave him to deal with this situation by himself.

  “I’ll help you. The Mavericks will talk to me before they’ll tell you anything. Doesn’t matter how much you sell for them, you’re still an O’Brien at the end of the day.”

  My pulse races at the thought of going back there. I’ve worked so hard to get my cravings under control. Dealing with the Mavericks again might push me over the edge.

  “I can’t ask you to do that,” Benji protests.

  “You didn’t, I offered.” I wave off his protests with a flick of my hand. “Now eat up. You’re too skinny and we need you strong to pull this off.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  LACEY

  Present Day

  “Well, that’s that then,” I mumble to myself.

  Carefully sliding out from under Benji’s arm, I push to my feet. He looks so peaceful sleeping on the laidback recliner. It’s hard to imagine the demons that haunt him when his eyes are closed and his expression is relaxed.

  I’d been in two minds, unsure if I should accept his invitation to watch a movie once we’d finished dinner. What had pushed me over the line was the panic that flared in his eyes when he thought I was going to turn him down.

  He didn’t want to be alone.

  When we’d made our way into the living area, I’d given the couch a wide berth, choosing to sit on the recliner. Benji hadn’t said a word. He’d lifted me out of the chair and then resettled me on top of his lap, and I hadn’t protested, snuggling against his bare chest and relishing his closeness.

  It was only when he started rubbing his right arm—the one that had been in a cast the last time I’d seen him—that I thought to ask about his knee and potential return to playing football. A dark cloud of self-pity tinged with anger at himself had descended at my question and he’d told me crossly that his career was over because he hadn’t met his rehab requirements for his knee or his arm so he was delisted by his football club. JJ was currently on his case about having his arm rebroken and reset to fix the damage he’d done when he’d punched a wall while it was still healing. Plus, she was pushing for him to restart his physio to strengthen his knee. The familiar way Benji spoke about Timber’s Old Lady had led me to believe that she’s been giving him in-home medical attention. He mentioned in passing that she was the one who took his cast off.

  “Where are you going?”

  I jump when Benji’s raspy voice breaks through my thoughts.

  “I’m going home.” I point at the TV. “The movie finished ages ago.”

  Standing, Benji stretches his long limbs. His expression shuts down, but I catch a glimpse of his disappointment.

  “Will you come and see me tomorrow?” he asks, trailing behind me as I make my way to the front door. “I need to make a buy. Get the fucking ball rolling so I can get this shit over and done with.”

  At his reminder of the task that the Shamrocks have given him, my bad feeling comes back. There’s so many ways that this can go wrong; I can’t believe that Maddi’s on board with the plan.

  What if the Mavericks figure out what Benji’s doing?

  What if he gets caught by the police selling ice?

  So many “what if’s” make their way through my mind.

  “I’ll come back tomorrow afternoon. There are people looking through my house in the morning. I might have a buyer.”

  Grabbing hold of my arm, Benji swings me to face him. “I told you I’d take care of your house for you. Did you lose your job?”

  Shaking my head, I answer him. “I don’t want that house anymore. There’s too many bad memories.” A real smile curves my lips when I appreciate that what I just said is the truth. Until this moment, I’d been on board with selling simply to get my father off my case. “I’ve been put on leave indefinitely, pending an investigation into my conduct,” I admit, shame coloring my cheeks. “I don’t want to go back there with everyone knowing what I did so I’m in the process of looking elsewhere.”

  Letting go of my arm, Benji pulls me into him. My breasts pillow against his hard chest and his hands grip my ass. “I let you down. I should’ve been there to help you. Instead, I got fucked up and lost in my own head.”

  “You were very clear about what we were. I didn’t expect you to save me.”

  Gripping my ass harder, he rubs me against his cock. I can feel it hardening and the thought of having one last session in his bed dampens my panties.

  “I lied,” Benji breathes his confession against my hair. “I knew you were falling for me and it freaked me the fuck out. It took me watching you OD in the workshop before I could admit it to myself.”

  He chuckles. His laughter is full of self-recrimination and a little humor.

  “And it still took a pocket rocket with purple hair to tell me which way was up before I thought about making it up to you.”

  I don’t understand his comment and if it involves another woman, I don’t think I want to. It’s good enough that the words I’ve been wishing for are being said.

  “Will you stay tonight?”

  “I will.”

  Picking me up, Benji carries me through the house, and straight past the living area and his usual fuck zone. He pauses at his bedroom door, and looks down at me with questions in his eyes. “I’m fucked-up. You know that, right? What if I can’t do this properly? Are you gonna run if I screw up?”

  Biting my lip, I weigh up his words. I get what he’s saying, and I want to soothe his concerns, but I can’t. If being with him compromises my ability to stay clean, I need to be strong enough to walk away from him. For both of us. I’d be a fool to put my feelings for him over my health.

  That’s how we ended up in this mess.

  “I’ll stay while it’s safe for both of us. If you spiral, I can’t make you any promises.”

  My tone is earnest, and I stroke his face in an effort to blunt the harshness of my declaration. His blue eyes flash with understanding and he ducks his head, dropping my gaze.

  “I can live with that...I think.”

  Wrapping my hands around his neck, I lift myself in his arms so I can reach his lips. Pressing my mouth against his, I put an end to the talking. We’ve done enough for today.

  “Make love to me?” I ask.

  As many times as I’ve welcomed Benji into my body, it’s always been as an unemotional joining on both our behalf. I couldn’t let feelings infiltrate the act; I had to keep it purely carnal for my own sanity. Tonight, however, I want something different.

  “Fuck, Lacey. I’ve never—”

  Wriggling out of his arms, I pull him into his bedroom behind me. Apart from the day that Maddi broke his arm, I’ve never been in here. Benji normally fucks in other areas of the house, only retreating to his bedroom once I’ve gone home. Spending the night, meant sleeping on the couch with him.

  “I can show you,” I assure him.

  Dropping to my knees in front of him, I pull his pants down his hips, holding them so he can step out of them. I take his fully erect cock in my hand and lick him from base to tip. He twitches, his breath hitching in his throat. Fisting him, I move my m
outh to the top and slide him between my lips, taking him as far as I can.

  “Fuck yeah,” he groans.

  Pushing all thoughts of other women out of my head, I concentrate on maintaining my rhythm. Connor made his thoughts about my skill in this area well known so I’ve never had the guts to do this for Benji before.

  His moaning tells me that I might not be as bad at blowjobs as I’ve been led to believe.

  I keep going, although I’m waiting for the time when Benji decides to take over and force himself further into my mouth than I can stand. My gag reflex becomes more sensitive when I think about him hitting the back of my throat, but I withstand it for now.

  My mouth’s tiring, and my knees are starting to ache from their position, when Benji steps away from me. Before I can ask him what he’s doing, he’s hauled me to my feet and pulled me toward his waiting lips. He kisses me, and it’s not a typical half-hearted Benji kiss. This one takes my breath away as he tries to devour me. His tongue pushes between my parted lips, meeting mine as it eagerly awaits him. We duel with our mouths, challenging each other in a game of cat and mouse, as we caress every inch of the others body that we can reach.

  With my pounding heartbeat roaring in my ears, and my stomach a fluttering mess of need, I’m ready to combust where we stand. He must sense my mounting need because he walks us backward toward his bed. The back of my thighs hit the mattress and I fall onto my back.

  Benji follows, landing gracefully over me. His big, long frame dwarfs mine. I open my legs, my skirt having ridden up to my waist, and he lowers himself between them. Taking my mouth with his again, he thrusts his bulge against my core, and I shift my hips to meet him move for move. We undulate together, seemingly content to demonstrate our newly revealed affection for each other with kisses, light fleeting touches, and grinding.

  My lower belly is growing warm, my inner thighs beginning to shake when Benji lifts himself off me. He pulls my top over my head, throwing it to the floor. Sucking my left nipple into his mouth, he swirls his tongue around it until it peaks, before moving onto my next breast and doing the same. Unbuttoning my skirt, he slides it down my hips and then all the way off. My panties are quickly removed from my body, joining the rest of my clothes on the floor.