“Just because you didn’t want me, no one else could? That must be it!” Unbelievable!
“Now, wait a minute. That’s not what I said!” He walks to stand in front of me.
“You know what, I don't need this. What I need is for you to go.” Our gazes remain locked in a stare down, a battle of wills. “All of you.”
“I’m sorry Scar—” He starts.
“No. Just please, go.” I hold on to the anger, because what comes next will be sadness. And I need to be alone before I lose it completely.
“Piers, I think we should go.” Willow tells him.
“I just—” His hand tugs at his hair.
“Teddy Bear, please. Make him go.” I sob and he nods his head at Piers.
“I think it's time to go, mate.” He drops his head and walks out the door, followed by Willow.
“You going to be alright, love? I could stay?” Teddy offers.
“No, it’s okay.” I force one corner of my mouth to lift in a smile. “I’m sure somewhere there is a paper than needs grading.”
“Cheeky.” He hugs me and pulls back to look me in the eye. “He’s just worried, you know how he is.” I nod. “Thanks, Teddy.” I tell him as he shuts the door. Because I do. But it doesn’t make his accusations hurt any less.
The lock clicks into place, leaving everyone I care about on the other side and I’m back to being locked away alone. Walking back to the sofa, I collapse in my ripped dress. A quick swipe under my eyes, and I find black on my fingertips. I’m sure my cheeks are covered with mascara, and for the first time… I don't even care. I curl into a ball and will sleep to come as thunder rumbles in the distance.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cohen
Questions, questions and more questions. I explain what happened. I tell them about the retreat, how he went after her then and I stepped in. How I helped procure evidence on the other harassment and assault cases pending against him. After the detective on the other case shows up and backs my story, they release me.
This was not just about going after her but revenge on me. Revenge. The irony is not lost on me as I walk out of the police station rubbing at the red marks on my wrists.
She was nearly assaulted because I tried to protect her.
Walking down the wide concrete steps, thunder begins to roll. I should get back on a plane and go far from her. Find another leggy blonde to drown myself in. Walk away and not look back.
But I can’t. Instead, I get into the back of a black cab and give them Scarlett’s address. As we drive it begins bucketing down, as the rain falls in heavy sheets and the tension coils deep in my belly.
The questions I just endured will be nothing compared to what she will ask me. But I’ll answer every last one if that’s what it takes.
It’s time for the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. As someone used to telling mostly lies, the truth scares the ever loving hell out of me.
Lightening cracks as I exit the cab and walk up the path to get door. Not a single light burns in her windows. Complete darkness.
I would almost guess she wasn’t home, but I know she doesn’t mind the dark.
The rain picks up soaking my clothes, the chill of the water sizzles on my skin. Skin that’s hot for her and as I near the door I feel that familiar jolt.
Raising my bruised hand I bang on the door. Nothing.
And as the storms soaks me to the bone, I keep pounding on the door.
My body hums in anticipation of the confrontation that’s sure to come. I only hope after she has her say and I’ve appeased her questions, that she will take me to her bed, and will comfort me with her touch. That I might lose myself in her.
I need to feel something. I went numb seeing Alan on her and when I finally got my hands on him, I couldn’t stop. The numbness drew me down and I nearly blacked out.
The sound of bones breaking and skin splitting echoed in the tiny space of the lift.
I beat my fist on the door until I can’t stand it anymore.
The only thing that made me stop was hearing her crying out my name and when I stopped and looked up, I saw myself in the polished reflection. I looked like a monster, anger etched on my face and blood on my hands.
The door opened and they pulled me away.
She fought to get to me, and when she finally did she heard them call me by name. My real name. Cohen James Black.
I could see it on her face when she worked it all out. Piers was there, the one who took my place. The one she loved first. He stood accusing, while she stared at me in disbelief. James may have the reason I came, but he’s not the reason I stayed. She is.
Now I have to find a way to show her that. Make her believe. But I can’t even get her to open the door.
One last knock and I jump as lightening cracks like a whip across the sky.
My head falls forward in defeat as the rain pelts down on me. I let it wash over me. Cool drops soaking into me, washing away the blood on my hands.
I wish it was as easy to wash away the sins that can’t be seen.
#####
Scarlett
The boom of thunder wakes me from a dream. A million miles away from here, my mind lost and happy in a place where Cohen and I were wrapped up in each other’s arms.
Safe from Alan’s taunting, Piers’ judgement and the fucked-up mess revolving around James Black. No retreats. No mergers or takeovers. No long-lost family.
Most importantly no secrets, no lies. Just us.
Restlessly, I turn over and snuggle deeper into the sofa as the rains beats mercilessly against the old windows of my flat. Rolling down the glass like big fat tears.
I couldn’t bring myself to climb into my bed, the room a mirage of memories of him taking me, owning me. Worshiping me. Tearing me apart and putting me back together with a look. A touch.
The pounding increases and my eyes fly open when I realize that someone is beating on the door.
My heart skips a beat, as I jerk to a sitting position. Who it could be? Alan? Surely not, he’s in the hospital I’m sure of it.
Teddy? I told him I would be fine, to leave me be. The wooden floor is chilly beneath my bare feet.
Piers? He’s the last person I want to see. I edge my way to the door as to pounding stops.
The closer I get, I feel it. That crackle in the air, the surge on my skin and in my blood, that lets me know it’s him. Cohen.
Lightning flashes, filling the darkened entryway with light as my hand reaches for the lock.
I don’t even bother looking out the peep hole, I pull the door open as the house rattles with the thunder that follows the lightening, crackling out in the night sky with a boom. Much like Cohen has rattled my heart.
I pull the chenille wrap tighter around me, even though it’s summer, in a useless attempt to ward off the chill I feel from the storm raging outside my door and inside my chest.
I’m shocked at what I find. My dark knight, who always seems so sure of himself, is standing in my doorway, with his hands gripping the wood above his head, a head which is hanging forward in defeat. He looks as Broken as I feel.
The water runs off of him in rivets, soaking his black tee and jeans. His wild black hair hangs in his face, hiding it from sight.
My gasp competes with the sound of the storm and his head flies up, his gaze locking on mine.
Blue eyes, filled with anguish burn into me, seeing everything. I’ve never felt so exposed.
Dark circles rest under his eyes, and I can see bruising on his face from where Alan must have got in a of couple of hits.
Neither of us saying anything. A thousand words flash through my mind. Angry ones, sad ones, words full of questions. But none come out of my mouth.
The lightning and thunder continue as we remain frozen. I want to reach out and comfort him. To feel his harden skin under my hands, but I need him to comfort me. I need his touch to remind me that it wasn’t all a lie.
That we had something.
Could have been something. Confusion has me wrinkling my brow and his eyes widen, waiting for what I’m going to say.
So, I don’t say anything. I know he lied. He’s James’ son. He said as much tonight. I’m sure his reasons in coming to London were less than honorable. But when he was inside me, he found his way into my heart. I can’t even put into words, but he it was like he reached the darkest corners of my heart and for the first time they were filled with light. Hope.
Letting the blanket fall from my bare shoulders, I stand before him in my white slip. His eyes leave mine to appraise my body. The feeling of him drinking me in is the most empowering thing I’ve ever felt.
“Scarlett,” he rasps out and I barely hear him over the howl of the storm that is still beating down and soaking my floor as the wind blows the cool drops inside.
But then he went and shattered everything I had left.
“Shhh,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes.
He lied.
Lies. Lies. More lies.
I grew up with lies, I vowed I wouldn’t build my life on them. But then I did. I told them, I lived them. I heard them. I believed them. And now, I would forgive them.
He drops his hands and takes a step closer as I reach my hands out to him.
“I’m sorry—” he starts.
“Shhh. No more words, Cohen. No more. No truths. No lies. Not tonight.” I grab his arms and pull him to me.
His eyes flame with desire, and in a second, he’s on me. A chill ripples through my body as his soaking clothes press against me.
I feel weightless as he lifts me into his arms and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist. The slamming of the door echoes as he kicks it shut with his foot.
Our bodies damp with tears from the sky as our hands make busy work of ridding the clothes that are stuck to our skin.
He slowly slides me down his body, I feel every ripple of his muscles, feel the tension of him holding back. My bare feet slip on the water-soaked wood. He steadies me, his large hands gripping my waist, holding me in place as he kicks off his shoes.
I claw at his back and rid him of his water-logged shirt. It drops behind him with a splat. My fingertips graze over his large shoulders and tease down his chest, following the perfect V cut of his chiseled body. He hisses at the contact. I stop when I reach his trousers, and flick the button open
His moan urges me on and for a few more seconds he lets me undress him, but the material is too wet, too stuck. He quickly helps me out and strips himself, kicking the wet denim off.
Black boxer briefs are all that covers his golden skin, mouthwatering skin that glistens with rainwater. My mouth hangs slightly ajar in anticipation of his hands on me.
Shivers run down my spine as he rips away my slip, letting it fall to the floor. And I’m left standing in pale blue lace panties and no bra. My nipples stand at attention as drags his battered hands from my waist up over my ribs, across my chest and up to rest at the base of my neck.
He rolls my neck to side and puts his lips there. Teasing, tasting. I could weep with wanting him. He trails his mouth across my collar bone, licking droplets of water from my flushed skin. Working his way up to other side of my neck.
A loud moan falls from my lips, and growls as he lifts me back up into his arms. I can tell his restraint has snapped and my legs hold him tightly to me as back is slammed against the heavy wooden door.
When he puts his lips on me, I lose all ability to think. He grinds into me and I nearly fall apart from his kisses on my body. I writhe against him, needing more, feeling him pressed firmly against my abdomen.
“Don’t make me beg.” I moan as he balances me with one hand, while he frees himself from the black cotton.
“Never.” He replies, his voice thick with lust as his eyes stay on mine, while he rips the dripping lace aside. The condition of the fabric having nothing to do with the storm and everything to do with him. His hands. His lips. His heart.
“Never Say Never.” I whisper as he fills me with a sharp thrust.
He withdrawals and pounds into me, wood scraping my back as he fills me over and over. We ride out the tidal wave of ecstasy that crashes through us simultaneously.
I never planned on a happy ever after. It was never written in the stars for me to have a fairytale ending. And I was ok with that. He holds me to him, never loosening his grip.
I shiver as the flush of heat slowly fades and think about how I spent my life chasing something that wasn’t mine. I fought, and I lost.
Cohen places his forehead against mine, telling me he’s sorry. I feel the words he’s trying to say.
Taking his face in my hands I place a kiss to his lips that says, I know. I understand. I forgive you. He kisses me back and I feel grow hard inside me again.
“You’re shivering. Let’s get you in the shower.” He mumbles against my lips that are still firmly pressed to his. I stay wrapped up with him inside me as he carries me through the flat and into my bathroom. With every step I feel him shifting in me. I cling tightly to him as he leans in the marble shower to turn on the hot spray and steps in, with me in his arms.
Under the warm jets we find our rhythm once more. This time the pace is slower. Each thrust deeper, as he draws himself all the way out before filling me again.
My head falls back on the cool marble with a thud. My eyes squeeze shut as he worships my body with his own.
We stay tangled up, the earlier frenzied pace now a slow dance. Like a waltz, the quick, quick has given way to the slow. For the first time I realize what is happening. He’s making love to me. This isn’t just sex. Fucking.
I knew it was different the first time I invited him to my bed. But even then, I didn’t know. Didn’t realize.
I lost my way, trying to find someone to love me. Turns out, I needed to learn to love myself first. I had the power to mend my own broken heart all along.
The power is in forgiveness. I forgive Cohen, more importantly...I forgive myself. I always thought that being lost and being lost in someone was the same thing. I was wrong.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Scarlett
Rolling over I crack open my eyes to find Cohen sitting in a grey velvet chair next to my bed with his fingers steepled under his chin. Wearing only boxer briefs and a frown, he appears to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I ask, my voice still groggy with sleep.
His blue gaze lifts to mine.
“So, James Black?” I attack the elephant in the room.
“James Black.” He confirms, scrubbing his hands down his face.
“You want to talk about it?” I whisper, throwing the covers off and climbing from the bed.
“No.” He sighs as I pad towards him. “But I owe you an explanation.”
“Would you like some breakfast first? Coffee maybe?” I reach out, very slowly, like you would to a wounded animal and run my fingers through his silky black hair.
“Sure, that would be great.” His arm snakes around my waist and I feel his whiskers tickle my stomach through my thin grey night tee. Not the sexiest pajamas, but last night was not about seduction. It was about healing and forgiveness.
“I’ve got some scones I picked up earlier this week at the bakery.” I offer and feel him shaking his head against me.
“Sure. Thanks.” He squeezes me tighter before dropping his arm, free form his hold I step and make my way to the kitchen.
Calling out over my shoulder, “help yourself to the shower.”
Once in the kitchen, I put the water on to boil, deciding this conversation may call for a proper cup of tea, maybe with a little spirits. Placing my palms flat on the worktop, a couple deep breaths come and go, as I attempt to my mind skims through everything that went done last night. I should feel a million things. Fear, being the main one. Yet I don’t. I feel relief that Cohen is here. That he came to me, instead of running away. He came to explain, apologize.
“It’s me
who should be waiting on you after last night.” I jump as Cohen’s voice breaks through my thoughts and he steps up behind me, pulling me into his arms, droplets from
his wet hair landing on my exposed skin.
“I’m fine.” I whisper, relaxing into his embrace.
The whistle of the kettle rings out and I shift to grab the kettle.
“Grab the preserves?” I ask, setting up tea on a tray to carry into the living room.
I reach in the cupboard and pull out my special cup, the one from Wendy, and another mug for Cohen. I have a feeling I’m going to need a piece of her with me for this.
“All set?” He places the preserves on the tray and grabs the plate of scones, following me into to set up by the sofa.
“Let me start by saying, I’m sorry.” He offers and the heat from the tea washes down my throat as I think of what to say.
“Cohen, you don’t have to keep apologizing. I just want to know why?” My eyes search his for answers, but all I see is pain.
“I don’t know why.” He takes a sip and sits his own tea back down. “It’s started as revenge and then there was you.”
I nod for him to continue.
“I never knew my father. Never knew what being James Black meant. That he was a powerful, ruthless business man. Never know he was a shipping heir to one of the largest fleets in London, dating back to his grandfather. I just knew him as the man who broke my mother’s heart. A man from a nightmare, that played on repeat over the years. Like I told you before, my mom used to make up stories about him being some dark pirate prince, then other times she called him the bad man. I lived in fear he would come and take me away from her. She may not have been perfect, far from it in-fact. But she was still my mum.” His voice is gravely as he struggles to continue.
“You were only a boy, you couldn’t have known.” I try to keep open mind as I figure out how in fit not all this.
“She also spoke of the one with red hair, Wendy. Which I now know is Willow’s aunt. I also know she passed away.” He grabs my hands with both of his.
“I’m terribly sorry for your loss. I know she was like a mother to you. All of you.” How could he? Dread fills my stomach at what he’s going to say next.
Never Say Never (Written in the Stars Book 2) Page 21