“You’re disgusting, and hell will freeze before I’ll let you put a hand on me.” She levels him with a grave look.
“Now you’re just being cruel. I know you don’t mean that.” That dude’s ego is through the roof—he genuinely believes his own press, and he has a ton of growing up to do.
She lifts her eyes to the ceiling, before ushering me forward. “Goodbye, Kent,” she calls out over her shoulder.
We watch a couple of movies before Rachel says she’s tired and we retreat to bed.
Separately.
I was going to ask if she wanted me to sleep with her again, but I’ve decided it’s best to let her call the shots.
I’m only half-asleep when my door creaks open an hour later. A thin sliver of light from the hallway has me lifting my head and glancing at the clock. It’s just past one a.m. I pull back the covers as the dark shape closes the door and tiptoes toward my bed. “Come here, beautiful,” I whisper, patting the space.
Rachel slides into bed, and I immediately pull her in beside me. Her body curls into mine, and a whimper of contentment flies out of my mouth. A guy could get used to this. “Is this okay?” she whispers.
“I’ve been expecting you.”
She snuggles into me, and I wrap my arm around her back. Her scent swirls around me, and I hold her even tighter. The more time I spend with her, the more my protective instincts kick into gear.
A few minutes later, she props up on an elbow, looking at me strangely. She tucks her hair nervously behind her ears as she wets her lips. “Brad?” she whispers.
“Yeah?” I run my fingers along the elegant column of her neck.
“Can you kiss me?”
I arch a brow, surprised she’s breaking her own rule.
“It’s just that—”
I cut her off with my mouth, brushing my lips against hers in a soft touch. “You don’t have to explain, and it’s hardly a chore.” Her hands land on my chest, and blood rushes south. Things are stirring in my boxers, and I have a silent pep talk with my dick, tempering the expectations.
“I was only going to say I feel safe when I’m with you, and I know you’ve been staying in the apartment on purpose because you’ve sensed that. Thank you for doing that for me.”
“Like I said, Red. It’s not a chore, and if you’re done talking, I’d like to claim that kiss now.” She leans down, but I gently push her onto her back. I start kissing her neck, nibbling on the sensitive spot just below her ear. I’m trying to make amends with Rachel, starting with treating her how I should have from the start. That means putting her needs before my own and letting her see I’m genuine about taking things further with her. “I’m hard as a rock, babe, but I want you to ignore that. We’re just going to kiss and cuddle.” I deliberately look into her eyes, wanting to gauge her reaction. “Is that okay with you?”
“That’s absolutely perfect. Now shut the fuck up and kiss me.”
I grin as I lower myself down on top of her. I’m careful not to crush her with my weight, propping up on one elbow and keeping a small gap between us. My mouth is greedy as I drink from hers. My lips trace every inch of her mouth, and my tongue dives in when she readily opens for me. Her hands rest lightly on my bare waist, and the feel of her small, soft hands on my naked skin unravels me. My kiss is more insistent, and she meets me every step of the way, but I hold back from really letting loose even though I’d willingly chop off a testicle to go there. I don’t know how long we kiss and innocently touch, but when we finally pull away, both our lips are swollen, and our joint ragged breathing is the only sound in the room.
She turns around so her back is to my front, pulling my hands firmly around her waist.
“Sleep, baby,” I murmur, nuzzling her hair and curling my body around hers.
“Brad?” she whispers a minute later.
“Hhmm.” I’m already in semi-slumber mode.
“I think I like, like, you.”
Her words do something funny to my insides. Pleasantly funny. A goofy grin slips over my lips. “I think I like, like, you too.”
We trade secretive little looks over the kitchen table the next morning at breakfast when we think no one’s watching. Last night feels significant, like we’ve turned a corner.
“Fuck,” Kent exclaims, waving his spoon between Rachel and me. “This is like Kyler and Faye part two. I’m gonna need a new puke bucket.”
“Kent!” Alex hisses. “Cut that out or you can leave.” She gestures subtly in Mom’s direction. Mom has a hand to her chest as if she’s having heart palpitations. I resist the urge to chuckle. Mom’s so innocent sometimes, but it’s endearing, and I wouldn’t change her for the world.
Later on, Rachel is with me, Mom, and Alex when James and Dan arrive to update us. “Your father is being held under federal jurisdiction, and he’s still undergoing questioning. Our understanding is that he’s being detained in the FBI field office in Chelsea. I’ve submitted a formal request for visitation, but it’s likely to be at least two or three days before that’s granted,” the attorney explains. “Usually, the FBI wouldn’t keep a suspect for more than a couple of days or after the initial court appearance, but they have special grounds to detain him for longer.”
I’m torn between staying and leaving, but I really can’t afford to miss class, and tomorrow is my first day back at training. Coach will have my balls if I’m a no-show. Mom makes the decision for me, insisting we head back to the city.
Sunday night is a repeat of last night, with Rachel draped around me in bed, and while it involves a passionate make-out session, I keep my hands in a strictly PG-13 position, not progressing things until she’s ready to go there. Which is kinda weird, considering we’ve already had sex several times. It’s like we started everything backward, but I’m not complaining. I’m happy to take whatever she’s offering.
It’s Monday morning, and I’m feeling on top of the world. Rachel seems to be in a great mood too, openly kissing me on the mouth as I drop her off in front of her school. “I should be back before you finish yoga, so I’ll fix dinner.”
“Great.” Leaning up on her tiptoes, she wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me more deeply this time. “A girl could get used to this you know,” she whispers, and her cheeks flush.
“A guy wants a girl to get used to it,” I whisper back, claiming her lips one final time. We’ve turned all domesticated, and the shocker is how much I’m loving that. I love going home and cooking, knowing she’ll be back soon. Rooming with Kyler was completely different. The first year he had Faye over all the time, and I constantly felt like the third wheel. Then this year he’s barely been home, preferring to hang out at Faye’s apartment. I hadn’t realized how lonely I’d become. Not that I’m blaming Kyler for that; it’s my fault he had to tiptoe around me. “Scoot, before we’re both late.” I tap her lightly on the ass, laughing as she pouts.
I can’t keep the grin off my face all day. There are no labels or anything, and I can’t say I know exactly what’s happening between Rachel and me, but, for the first time in ages, I feel like I belong in my skin. Like I finally recognize myself, and I’m comfortable with who I am. Things are moving forward, and I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long while. And that’s saying a lot with all the Dad shit hanging over my head. His incarceration is front page news on every paper and the main headline on every single news channel. Hushed whispers and pointed fingers follow me around campus all day, but I ignore the gossipmongers and keep my head down.
My teammates cheer loudly when I appear in the locker room, and I’m jostled and slapped on the back so much I feel bruised. But it’s good. Brady will be out for another week at least, so I don’t have deal with his skeezy ass yet. I’m hoping they find enough evidence to kick him off the team, but only time will tell.
My limbs ache as I limp off the field a couple of hours later. While I’ve kep
t up my gym sessions, it’s no match for the rigorous training Coach puts us through. I hate that I’ve fallen behind, but I’ll catch up.
Back at the apartment, I’ve just put some noodles on to boil when the buzzer sounds. Thinking it’s Rachel and that she must’ve forgotten her key, I press the button to let her in. A few minutes later, there’s a hard knock on the apartment door. Giving the noodles a quick stir, I sprint to the door and swing it open without checking.
A tall, dark-haired guy with familiar-looking eyes stands in front of me. “Hey, man,” he says in a strong Irish accent. “I’m looking for Rachel. Is she in?” He peers behind me, and I move to block his view. I’m instantly on high alert.
“Who’s asking?” I fold my arms and stare the guy down.
He laughs, extending his hand. “Sorry. I should’ve introduced myself first. I’m Alec. I’m Rachel’s brother.”
A layer of stress flitters away as we touch knuckles. “Good to meet you.” I open the door wider. “Rachel never said you were coming.”
“It’s a surprise.” He smiles as he steps inside, and he looks so much like her that I’m wondering how I didn’t immediately make the connection. “You’re Brad?” I nod, closing the door behind me. “She’s told me all about you.”
“Yeah?” I can’t keep the shock from my voice. “What exactly did she tell you?”
He laughs again, sliding onto a stool at the counter as I return to the stove. “Yeah, I’m so not going there. Sibling code and all that.”
“Fair enough. Have you eaten? There’s enough here for three, and Rach should be back soon.”
His smile turns to a frown, but he quickly disguises it. “No, I’m good. I had something to eat before I came here.”
“You got someplace to stay?” I ask, trying to de-clump the noodles which are now sticking together in the pan. “Or do you need to crash here?”
“I’ve got a place. Already dropped my bags off.”
The front door slams. “Something smells burnt!” Rach shouts from the hallway.
I lower the heat under the pan and twist around, smiling in anticipation of her reaction.
Rachel rounds the corner into the living space with a massive grin on her face. I know the second she notices our guest, because her face crumples, and she sways unsteadily on her feet. Her whole body starts shuddering, and there’s a mixture of horror and disbelief on her face. I rush to her side as her brother stands up. “Baby, what’s wrong?” I circle my arms around her waist, clutching her to me. She’s shaking profusely, and tears cascade down her face.
“Hey, sis. Long time no see.” Alec saunters toward us like there’s nothing wrong with his sister’s reaction.
Rachel clings to me, visibly trembling, but her eyes haven’t left her brother.
He opens his arms wide. “Where’s my hug?”
“Get out,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
“What’s going on?” I tilt her chin up with my finger, forcing her eyes to meet mine. “What’s wrong?”
“Make him leave.” Her lower lip wobbles, and tears continue to course down her face. “Please, Brad. Get him out of here.”
A cold, icy sensation crawls up my spine. Moving fast, I place her behind me, shielding her from him. My voice is like granite as I speak. “You heard her. Get the fuck out of here.”
“Or what?” He steps up to me. “You’ll make me?”
His face transforms in a split second, sending more chills creeping up my spine. A dark, deadly glare radiates from his eyes as he sends me a menacing look. “Move aside. I want to speak to my sister.”
Rachel whimpers behind me, her fingers clinging to my shirt. Her body continues to tremble against mine. “No. She doesn’t want you here. Get out or I’m calling the cops.”
His eyes narrow to slits as he sizes me up. I ready myself in case he makes a move. Like a switch has been flipped, his features relax and he steps back, holding up his palms. “No problem. I’ll go.” He starts backing away. “But I’m not leaving, Rachel. Not until you speak to me. Remember what I told you the last time we spoke. That still stands. That will always stand. You can never outrun the truth.”
“Go.” I jerk my head toward the hallway.
“This time, man. You can have it this time.” He stares at me and that unnerving feeling is back. He continues walking backward until he’s out of sight. Taking Rachel with me, I walk out to the hall to ensure he’s left. The door is wide open. As I watch him watching me while he waits outside the elevator bank, a silent storm brews inside me. I shut and lock the door, never taking my eyes off him until the door forms a solid barrier.
I pull Rach around in front of me, examining her face. Tears are cascading like a waterfall down her cheeks. “What did he tell you the last time you spoke?”
She gulps, swiping at her tears. Her voice is quaking when she speaks. “That I’m his. That I’ll always be his, and no one else can have me.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Rachel
“What?” Brad’s face can’t curtail his shock. “Why would he say that to you? You need to tell me what’s going on, Rachel, because my mind has gone to a very weird place.”
“That weird place is probably correct,” I whisper.
He takes my arm, gently guiding me to the couch. “Wait there.” I watch in a daze as he goes to the kitchen and turns off the cooker.
He returns with a bottle of water and a blanket. Sitting beside me, he tucks the blanket around me, but nothing can stop the chills that emanate from the very core of my soul. I sip the water, while my brain frantically scrambles to decipher the mesh of emotions cluttering my head and my heart. It’s always the same when I’m confronted by my demons. When my tormentor appears in the flesh. Nausea builds at the base of my throat.
“Rachel, I know you haven’t wanted to talk about this, but you’ve got to give me some answers. I want to protect you, but I need to know the truth. What did he do to you?”
Fresh tears spill from my eyes as I face him. The compassion and confusion on his face helps me decide. I’m tired of keeping this locked up inside. Tired of feeling like half a person. Like it’s somehow my fault. As if I brought this on myself. And I’m so done with the hold he has on me. I used to think if I didn’t acknowledge it, didn’t speak about it, if I pretended like it didn’t happen, then I could convince myself it wasn’t real. But it’s always been real. I’ve never been able to deny it. All my attempts at numbing reality have failed.
So, it’s time to apply reverse psychology.
To free the secrets and lies.
I need to own them before I can overcome them.
And I want to, because I want to move forward in my life, to believe I have a future.
I clear my throat and slap a few invisible steel layers over my heart. “I was thirteen the first time my brother climbed into my bed in the middle of the night.” My voice is eerily placid, like the calm before the storm.
Brad slides alongside me, and his arms close around my waist. “How old was he?” he asks through gritted teeth.
His touch, and his smell, give me the strength to continue. “Fifteen.” I wet my lips as acid coats my mouth. “He kissed me, and when I tried to pull away, he told me not to be afraid of my feelings. That it was okay to want to kiss him and touch him.” I look up into Brad’s horrified eyes. “When I told him I didn’t feel like that, he got so mad. He pinned my wrists down and told me to stop lying, that he’d seen the way I looked at him like I wanted him.”
Another tear sneaks out of my eye, but I hastily brush it aside. I’ve shed too many of them over that monster. “I’d never looked at him like that. He was my brother, and I was still so ignorant of sex and boys. I didn’t really have a clue, but I was scared. He’d always had this horrible temper, and he’d hit me on several occasions in the past. My parents never believed me when
I told them the truth. As far as they were concerned, Alec was the golden child. The one kid who never gave them any problems. I was the one who got into trouble in school for always talking and giving cheek to the teachers. Alec had good grades and glowing reports from the teachers. He played football, Gaelic, and hurling, and when he joined secondary school, he was class captain and on the debating team. Everyone loved him.” I’m rambling a little, but it’s so hard to verbalize the torture I suffered at my brother’s hands. I’ve never said the words out loud before.
“I bet everyone loved you too. It’s impossible not to.” His soothing tone is gentle, and I know he’s trying to relax me, but there’s no easing into this perverted shit.
I gulp back my panic and my fear. It’s okay to let this out now. Brad knows. He may not be aware of the specifics, but he knows. There’s a sort of beautiful freedom in emptying my head of the torment I’ve spent years trying to hide. “That night he only kissed me, but he slipped into my room again the next night, and he touched me down there. I had no idea what was happening, except that I knew it was wrong. I felt dirty. I couldn’t stop crying, but he kissed my tears away. Told me it would be okay.”
Brad weaves his fingers through my hair, kissing my temple, and I can tell how much of an effort it is for him to be tender in the aftermath of that revelation. “I’m so sorry, Rachel.”
“Soon, he was creeping into my room at least every few nights, and things progressed quickly. He made me touch him, and his hands were all over me, inside me.” I shudder as an intense bout of disgust and shame envelops me. “I hated it,” I whisper. “I hated the way his hands lingered on places they shouldn’t. I hated the way he made me feel. I begged him to stop, but he wouldn’t. If I argued or tried to push him away, he pinned me down and took what he wanted anyway. My tears only seemed to turn him on more.”
Saving Brad (The Kennedy Boys Book 5) Page 23