Malevolent

by Cassia Brightmore

  With a sigh, she swung her legs out of the bed and stood. It was her day off from the diner, however she was still going to head in and see how Joan was coping. Finding a dead body like that, Gwyn couldn’t even imagine the feelings she must be experiencing. Joan had been so kind to her, she felt the least she could do was be there for her in return.

  Brady had said to make herself at home, and nothing would help wash the remnants of the horror they all went through the previous day better than a hot shower. Brady’s main floor had an ensuite and a main floor bathroom. Deciding to use his ensuite, she gathered up some clean clothes and headed in.

  Standing in front of the sink, she studied herself in the large mirror. The dark circles under her eyes had faded and her hair had more of a shine to it than it used to when she lived with Lawrence. Moving her hair away from her temple, she traced the faint moon shaped scar around her left eyebrow. It was barely visible now, but Gwyn still remembered the day she got it as though it was yesterday.

  Her vision thick with memories, she set the water to boiling temperatures and stepped inside. Under the spray of the water she flashed back to one of her worst nightmares.

  Lawrence had a tight grip on her as he yanked her head back. “What the fuck did I tell you about encouraging other guys, huh?” She whimpered as locks of her hair ripped from her scalp.

  “I didn’t. Lawrence, please let go. You’re hurting me.” Her pleas fell on deaf ears as he swung her around and shoved her face first into the wall. Blood spurted from her nose as she cried out, the pain resonating through her body.

  “Don’t you fucking lie to me!” He yelled, the smell of booze reeking on his breath. Spinning her, his hand encircled her throat, squeezing the breath out of her.

  “I saw you. I saw you talking to that man. Flaunting your whore body, letting him think he could touch what’s mine.” With each word Lawrence spoke, he increased the pressure on her throat until black dots danced behind her eyes. Gasping for breath, she clawed at his hands—frantic to get free. Struggling, she managed to bring her knee up and get just enough force behind her to hit him square in the balls, gulping when the impact forced him to let go of her throat as he yelped and doubled over.

  Sliding down the wall, Gwyn gasped and tried to suck as much oxygen as possible back into her deprived lungs. Distracted, she didn’t notice when Lawrence stood up, having recovered.

  “You are one stupid bitch,” he spat out. She looked up just in time to see him bring the end of his beer bottle crashing down into her face. Everything went black.

  Coming back to the present, Gwyn realized she was heaving, tears rolling down her cheeks. That had been the last time she saw Lawrence. The last straw in a long line of verbal and physical abuse. It had started with just a harsh word here, a casual push there. He had always acted so contrite, so eager to make her believe it had been an accident.

  When the incidents began happening more and more frequently, Gwyn realized she needed to get away. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to make a clean getaway before he lost his mind that night, convinced she was flirting with another man. When she came to, he was gone and she took the opportunity to run—she hadn’t looked back since.

  Letting the water wash over her, she took a deep breath. That part of her life was over now, she had moved on. Brady was an unexpected surprise in her life, one she wanted to find the courage and strength to fight for.

  I am not worthless.

  I am not a punching bag.

  Repeating the words helped to remember the chance she had in this town—a chance at a new life and a new beginning with Brady. Choosing to stay and fight for what they were building was the right decision. She could feel it.

  Shutting off the water and stepping out, she toweled off. She felt re-energized. She had emerged anew and was ready to embrace the strong side of herself. Now she just needed to share her dark past with Brady.

  Walking into the diner a short while later, Gwyn looked around for Joan. Spotting Earl manning the counter was a surprise, not a sight she was used to.

  “Hi ya, Gwynnie love,” he greeted her. “What are you doin' in here? Thought it was your day off.”

  She smiled and touched his hand in response. “I know, but I really wanted to be here. To see Joan.” Gwyn replied, her heart in her eyes.

  Earl squeezed her hand, “She’s in the stockroom. Go on back.” Gwyn nodded and rounded the counter, pushing through the swinging door to the diner’s supply room.

  Joan was easy to spot right away as the room wasn’t very large. Holding a clipboard, she moved things around on the shelves, making notes as she went. Gwyn watched her quietly for a few moments, unsure whether or not to disturb her.

  “I know you’re there girl, you can quit your hovering about,” Gwyn smiled at Joan’s words. The woman had eyes in the back of her head.

  “I wanted to come and see how you’re holding up. You know, after everything…”

  Joan turned to face her, tears swimming in her eyes.

  “I’ve known that boy since he was a baby. I changed his diapers, watched him grow.” Her heartbreak was an emotional spear to Gwyn’s own heart. She rushed over and pulled the kind woman close for a hug.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said sincerely. “Brady will find out who did this, he will make it right. We have to trust in that.”

  Joan pulled back and patted her arm. “You’re a special girl, Gwyn Woods. I’m glad that whatever path you’re following led you here—to us. And you’re right about Brady. I have every faith that he will get us the justice we deserve.”

  Gwyn guided them to the door, intending to badger Joan into getting some food into her belly. Joan’s words stopped her in her tracks.

  “I just pray he can do it before we lose anyone else.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  After a frustrating day of walking the Feds through his case files, re-visiting the scenes and interviewing and re-interviewing witnesses, Brady was in a bitch of a mood when he walked through the door to his house. All he wanted was a cold beer, a hot meal and to sink himself into the goodness that was Gwyn.

  Hoping that she felt at home enough to use his kitchen to cook them a nice supper, he went in search of her. Not seeing her in the living room, he moved to the kitchen, calling her name. When she wasn’t there and there was no evidence of any sort of meal being prepared like he had envisioned—he began to panic.

  “Gwyn? Where are you?” Sprinting up the stairs, he found the bedrooms empty, the bathroom unoccupied. “Fuck.” She wasn’t there. Running back down the stairs, he grabbed his keys from the small table in the entryway and headed back out the door. Panic was rising in him as he imagined the worst. If something happened to her…he shook his head, refusing to think the worst.

  Jumping into his car, he punched the keys on the car’s built in Bluetooth rapidly.

  “Sam, it’s me,” Brady practically shouted when he picked up. “Look, I can’t find Gwyn. I’m headed back to the station now, I need you to—wait she’s what?” Listening with extreme calm, he gritted his teeth. “Okay, great thanks. Yeah, see you tomorrow.” Brady ended the call and then turned the car around.

  Gwyn changed into a pair of comfy track pants and pulled a racer back tank over her head. Grabbing her book and glass of wine, she headed to the couch to relax. Assuming that Brady would be busy with the investigation, she had headed back to her apartment after an emotional afternoon with Joan at the diner.

  Not wanting to be a nuisance for him to deal with, she decided to give him a bit of space for the night and check in with him in the morning. Feeling good about her plan, she opened her book and settled in to read.

  Her apartment door crashed open, bouncing off the wall once. Gwyn barely managed to stifle her scream of fright as she took in Brady’s angry form in the doorway. Seeing her, he barged in. “Brady! What the hell are you doing?” she cried out, terror starting to wind around her body. Would he hurt her the way Lawrence had?

  “What
am I doing? What the hell are you doing? Why aren’t you at my house?” He stomped over to her and got in her face, watching as she scrambled back on the couch. “You just left and came here? What happened to not running, Gwyn?” Reaching out to grab her shoulders, he felt her trembling.

  “Hey, hey. What’s the matter?” Anger turned to concern in a matter of seconds, as he watched her brown eyes fill with tears.

  “I—I’m sorry. I…I won’t do it again.” Her voice was small, scared. Brady sat down and drew her against him. “Shhh. Gwyn, look at me.” Her shoulders felt so frail, she was so tiny in his arms. Her eyes raised to his slowly, apprehensive.

  “Look, I’m not angry and I’m sorry I snapped—but Jesus fuck, you scared the shit out of me. I didn’t know if something happened to you and it did my head in.” Her nod was automatic, jerky. His words weren’t sinking in.

  “I’ll never hurt you. Losing my temper doesn’t mean you are in danger from me. I promise, with me, you’ll always be safe.” Something about the sincerity in his tone, the pleading in his eyes had Gwyn believing him. She stilled and tried to relax in his arms.

  “I thought you would want space. Time to process. I don’t know, I just didn’t want to be a nuisance,” she admitted.

  “Gwyn, you aren’t a nuisance. I want you with me. All the time, every second. Those minutes not knowing where you were—fuck. I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. But this, this reaction you just had, that’s something else. Something you’re keeping from me.” Gwyn averted her eyes, afraid he would see the truth reflected in them. That he would see he was right.

  Having none of it, he used his fingertip to bring her face back to his. Raising his eyebrows, he waited. When she didn’t answer after a few moments, he sighed. “Alright, I’ll let it go for now. But—you’re coming with me darlin'. Until we get this mess sorted out, I want to know that you’re safe in my home.” Watching her mouth open getting ready to argue, he interrupted. “No. This is non-negotiable. So you have two choices. You can either go pack a few things, or I’ll carry you out of here with just those clothes you have on. Which means you’d be out of clean clothes real quick. Personally, I like option two,” he winked.

  Rolling her eyes, Gwyn stood. “Fine, fine. Lord, you are impossibly bossy.” Brady shrugged, clearly happy he was getting his way.

  Heading down the short hallway to the apartment’s one bedroom, she pulled out her duffle bag and began filling it with her minimal belongings. Being alone gave her the chance to analyze her reaction to Brady’s temper. The flashback of that unthinkable last night with Lawrence had brought a lot of those feelings and insecurities to the surface. Ashamed at allowing him to once again control her, she straightened her spine. It was time she faced her past head on. Brady had shared his demons, she needed to follow suit. Opening the closet and setting them free would help her close the door on them. To finally shut Lawrence out of her life for good.

  Hefting the bag over her shoulder, she headed back down the hall to where Brady was waiting. Each step bringing her closer to freedom. To a fresh chapter in her life. Approaching him, she leaned up and planted her lips on his. A tender kiss that she put as much emotion into as she could.

  “I’m ready.” Those two words were full of meaning, of a promise for the future.

  Arriving back at Brady’s house, Gwyn stopped him from getting out of the car. “I want to tell you. About me, about why I came here.” She looked at him, searching for approval.

  “I’d like that, darlin'.” He started to reach for the door handle. Gwyn grabbed his hand, stopping him.

  “No. Not in the house. What I’m about to tell you, well that kind of darkness doesn’t need to follow us inside your home.” Nodding, Brady sat back.

  “You might have guessed that I came here to hide from something. To find a new path for myself. And you would be right. My ex, Lawrence, he wasn’t a good man. He manipulated me from day one. It took me a long time to see that I wasn’t the problem, he was. He—he would hurt me,” her voice broke and tears threatened to fall. Brady reached for her but she threw out a hand to stop him.

  “No, I need to get this out, Brady. He used to hurt me, but I know now that the issues were his. I was his favorite punching bag, his tool to make himself feel validated as a man. It puffed up his ego to see me battered. Broken. Completely at his mercy. One night, he came close to killing me. My life flashed before my eyes and I made myself a promise that I would get away from him. That I would be strong enough to regain control of my life. He would never again have the power to decide when I lived or when I died. So I ran. I’ve been hiding for months, until one day the road brought me here. Brought me to you.”

  Silence filled the small space as she finished. She knew Brady was fighting for control, the fury coming from him was thick enough to bite into.

  “You need to know, that if I ever see that fucker, he’s dead. I mean it, Gwyn. I’ll kill him with my bare hands and I won’t think twice about it. You are so strong, so brave. I’m so fucking happy you got out of there.” He kissed her forehead and looked into her eyes.

  “Thank you for trusting me. I fucking love you, darlin'. Now, let’s go inside, I’m dying to show you how much.” Brady’s words were a direct zinger to her core, awakening her desire. He flashed a grin that set her panties on fire, had her wishing she wasn’t even wearing the damn things.

  No sooner had he closed the front door and he was on her. Lifting her and gripping her ass. Her legs wrapped around his waist, grinding her pussy against his hardening cock instinctively.

  “I love this ass, sugar. Love every inch of you,” he said against her ear, nipping her lobe. Her hands fumbled with his belt and loosening it, she reached inside. Wrapping her hand around him, she freed his cock rubbing her hands up and down in a smooth motion.

  “Brady. I want to taste you,” her voice had turned husky with want, her eyes smoldering in silent begging. Walking forward quickly, he deposited her on the couch. Pushing his pants and boxers down to his ankles, he gripped his cock and stroked it, getting it ready for her.

  “You sure, darlin'? Cuz I’m dying to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours. Not sure how gentle I can be.” Gwyn looked up at him from under her lashes. Lifting her arms, she peeled her tank over her head, leaving her breasts on display in her lacy bra.

  `“Don’t be gentle,” she said. Leaning forward, she ran her tongue up and down the length of him. Taking him fully into her mouth, she sucked on the tip of him softly, encouraged when she heard his growl of appreciation.

  Swirling her tongue around him, she began to suck, relishing in the feel of him hitting the back of her throat. Lost in the sensations, Brady’s hands dove into her hair, forcing her even farther down his length. Setting a fast pace, he thrust his hips faster. Her soft lips and warm tongue were driving him out of his mind.

  “Fuck, you feel so good, Gwyn.” Looking down at her, he watched entranced as she unclipped her bra and brought her hands up to tease her pink nipples.

  Groaning, Brady pulled out of her mouth. “Don’t wanna come in your mouth. I need that pussy, sugar.” Sitting down, he pulled her into a standing position and yanked her pants down. “God, I can feel your heat from here. You’re soaked, aren’t you?” Gwyn couldn’t answer, she was caught up in the thrill of standing over him. It was a power she had never felt before.

  Brady’s tongue took a long, slow swipe over the center of her, sending shivers through her body. Moaning, she moved closer, desperate for more. “Missed your taste,” he mumbled against her as he added a finger to swirl through her juices.

  Gwyn’s hands were rough on his head, forcing him closer, to devour every last drop of her essence. With two fingers now pumping inside her, she went off like a rocket, crying out his name.

  Grabbing her waist, he pulled her into his lap, positioning her over him. Running his hardness back and forth across her opening, he teased her until she couldn’t take it.

  “Jesus, Brady. I ne
ed you inside me.” Chuckling at her demands, he slid his hands up her back as he arched up and into her in one powerful movement.

  “Oh God,” he drawled, she felt amazing in this position. Rocking her hips to meet his rhythm, Gwyn eagerly took him deeper. The intensity between them as they stared into each other's eyes was insurmountable, their connection flowing, surrounding them. It wasn’t long before Brady was pumping at a furious pace and she felt her own release building.

  “Come with me, Gwyn. Together,” he panted. Nodding, she clenched around him, pushing him further to the edge, closer to her. Feeling him twitch, she let it go and they cried out in unison as they both crashed over the edge; his warm release filled her.

  “God that was amazing,” Gwyn sighed, sinking down into the cushions beside him. He nodded, placing a light kiss on her temple.

  Turning her head, she smiled. “So, how was your day?” she joked. Brady laughed, delighted with her.

  “Well, it wasn’t great. The FBI showed up, they’ve been assigned to supervise this case.” Brady’s tone conveyed his frustration.

  Gwyn gave him a sympathetic look. “I spent some time with Joan today. She’s really taking this hard,” she said sadly.

  Brady stood, straightening his clothes. “I’ll never repeat this, but having the Feds here, I think it will help. They have resources I don’t have in this town, ones I need to catch this sick son of a bitch.” He moved into the kitchen.

  “Are you hungry, darlin'? I’m not much of a cook, but I’m aces at making mac and cheese,” he called out. Laughing, Gwyn pulled her top on and wandered in behind him.

  “Why don’t you let me make us something?” she suggested, wrapping her arms around him from behind. His strong body felt amazing under her fingertips. She couldn’t resist tracing the muscles on his chest.