by Alexa Riley
Miles and Mallory walk out and slip into their limo. Captain looks down at Alexander and then pulls me toward the exit. I expected someone to call the police, but it looks like this happened so fast no one had a chance to see it. So instead, Alexander will lie unconscious on the ground until someone finds him and gets him out of there.
I follow Captain, letting him lead. Letting him take me wherever he wants to take me and not putting up a fight. Now is not the time for pushing away. When I feel myself being buckled up in the passenger seat of a car, I blink a few times. Captain shuts the passenger side door and goes around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.
There’s so much I’m feeling at the moment, but when he reaches over and places his hand in my lap, I grasp it eagerly.
“I’m not pregnant, Ryan. That test was for Mallory. I didn’t mean to lead you on about it―I liked winding you up. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He’s making me feel so safe in this moment, and I want to give him something, even if it isn’t much. It’s all I really have to give him.
His fingers flex, and then he squeezes my hand. There’s a small pause after the words leave my mouth, and I start to worry that he’s angry with me.
“Thank you for telling me. It didn’t matter, though. I want you however I can have you.”
I look over and study his profile. His short blond hair, his hard chiseled jaw, his perfect nose and straight teeth. He’s so handsome, it makes my chest ache. Picking up his hand, I bring it to my lips and place a kiss on it. He smells like rosewood and fresh cotton, and I want to curl into it.
I watch the streetlights of New York City pass by as he drives away from my personal hell. I picture leaving all of it behind and starting over someplace new, where Captain is with me and we have no past, no history, just each other. But that isn’t reality. Life never seems to give me what I want.
Chapter Four
Paige
* * *
“THANK YOU FOR taking me home.” I look up at Captain, feeling a little unsteady. Even more unsure of myself. We didn’t speak another word on the car ride home. He’d followed me up to my apartment, one hand still locked with mine. I don’t want to let it go. It feels like the only thing holding me together right now and keeping other thoughts at bay, things I don’t want to think about right now. I want to focus on his hand in mine before it’s gone and I’m alone again.
He reaches into his pocket, leaning forward, and I think he’s going to kiss me, but I hear the lock behind me pop, and my front door swings open.
I’m not surprised he has a key. Probably has one to every door in the whole building. “I’m staying.” He pockets his keys and waits. My mouth falls open a little as I think about him coming inside. He’s being so forward, and a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t mean like that, kitten. Keep those claws in.”
The comment would normally make me snap back at him, but the smile on his lips and the softness in his eyes have me returning the small smile. As much as I try to say I dislike Captain for how perfect he can be, it’s one of the things that draws me to him. I know he likes me, but he’s never been crude about it. That’s not something I’m used to. Not with how I grew up, and not even in college. I’m pretty; I know that. But for some reason I’ve always attracted the assholes. Maybe it’s my attitude, but they seem to flock to me. The good ones never seemed to pay me much attention. Until him. And now, for the first time, a man has my attention.
“You really don’t have to do that. I kind of want to be alone,” I lie. I don’t want to be alone at all. The apartment feels so empty now with Mallory gone. It’s been the two of us since college, but now she spends her nights a few floors up, with Miles, and I don’t foresee her coming back. He’s not letting her out of that apartment. I’d grown used to having someone around. Probably clung to it more than was healthy, but when you spend years alone and then you get to experience the joy of having someone so close, it’s hard to let go. She’s all I’ve ever really had.
The silence in the apartment has been driving me crazy. The walls feel like they’re closing in.
Captain cups my face, his thumb rubbing along my jaw, and I tilt my head into his touch. I don’t want him to stay because he thinks it’s the right thing to do. I want him to stay because he wants to.
“You can let me in, or I’ll stand in this hallway all night.”
“You’d stand here all night?”
“I’d probably break in at some point,” he admits. “Until I think you’re really all right and not just feeding me a line.”
His confession pulls at my heart, because I don’t think I’ll ever be all right. I don’t tell him that. Instead, I motion for him to enter. He locks the door behind us, letting go of my hand, and I see him release a breath. The relief is clear on his face.
“Didn’t think I was going to let you in?” I ask over my shoulder as I make my way to the kitchen. I open the freezer and pull out a bottle of vodka. I grab a glass and pour myself a drink, shooting it back before pouring myself another.
“I never know what you’re going to do.” Captain takes off his jacket, tossing it over the back of the sofa as he rolls up his sleeves, revealing all those tattoos I love. I could close my eyes and trace them perfectly.
“That must drive you crazy.” I make my way back toward the sofa and sit down. I slip my shoes off, and the motion causes the slit of my dress to fall open. I look up to see Captain’s eyes zero in on my thighs before they quickly move to my face. Forever the gentlemen. Until tonight, when I kissed him. Or did he kiss me? It was hard to know in that moment. I couldn’t tell where he began and I ended. I’d never felt so connected with someone, and I wondered if sex was like that.
“No, I’m just always speculating which Paige I’ll get.” He comes around to sit on the other end of the sofa. I’m disappointed he doesn’t sit next to me. Right now I could use more of his touches. But disappointment turns into pleasure as he pulls my feet into his lap and rubs them. The ache from the heels I’d been wearing all night fades away as his big hands engulf my feet and ease the pain.
I take another sip of the vodka, enjoying the massage. I lie there and let him rub me, and a comfortable silence falls on us. I shoot back the rest of the alcohol and set down the empty glass on the table next to me. With only that little bit of vodka, I feel warmth flowing through me. It relaxes me and helps me to forget.
I want to forget seeing my father. To forget how easily I’d frozen up when I was around him. It only further shows me how unprepared I am to see him. How can I seek revenge on a man I can’t even speak two words to?
“How many of me are there?” I tease, trying to make light of Ryan’s words.
“The one you pretend to be and the one you really are.”
I lean back, folding my arms over my chest. His words sink home. I wonder if everyone can see through me so easily. Maybe it’s the vodka, or maybe I want to know, but I ignore his words and go for something else.
“You think you want me.” It’s not a question, because I already know the answer. The kiss we shared said it all.
“Think?” His fingers dig deeper into my foot, making me moan at the pleasure. His hands still for a second, and I look at his face. He takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to get himself under control, before he goes back to rubbing. Jesus, he’s good at that.
I want to tell him all the reasons we’d never work. That he’s too good for me. That there is too much of my father inside me. I can feel it. Where else did I get these dark thoughts from? What kind of girl wants to kill her own father? What kind of girl stands by and watches her mother die?
He would never do those things. Captain would have saved the day. Maybe he could save me. The warm buzz of the alcohol pushes me on. I slip my feet from his lap, and he reluctantly lets them go. I start to crawl toward him, and he doesn’t move as I work my way to him and into his lap. I press my face against his neck, breathing in his scent of rosewood, and his arms wra
p around me. Only holding me. I can’t remember anyone doing this, not even my own mother
“Did you know I remember everything?” I tell him a secret few people know about me.
“What do you mean by everything?” His hand on my back moves in slow circles. It’s a lazy rhythm that makes my eyes fall closed, and I melt into him.
“Everything.” I feel him pause for a moment before he starts rubbing again. “The first time I saw you, you had on dark blue slacks, a white button-up shirt. Your tie was long gone and the top two buttons were undone. When you’d turn a certain way, those damn muscles of yours would flex and strain under your shirt. I would get a glimpse of the tattoos, trying to peek out your sleeves. I spent so many nights wondering what they looked like after that first day. How they would trace up your arms.” My fingers are tracing them on his right arm now. I don’t have to look to know I’m tracing them perfectly. I keep my eyes closed, my face buried in his neck, breathing him in. I want to smell his scent forever. It’s somehow comforting. “It took time before I got to see them all, but I only needed one look. Now I’ll always know their exact pattern. Sometimes late at night I trace them on my own arm.”
“Paige.” He says my name softly, but it vibrates through his body and into mine, making me smile. I brush my nose against his neck, then place a soft kiss there. He stills once again. I love how I can do that to him with one little touch.
It feels empowering, and after what happened tonight, I revel in it. I felt so powerless in front of my father. I thought after all these years I’d have been better prepared. No longer that scared little girl.
“That’s one of the good things about remembering everything,” I tell him, placing another kiss on his neck. “The bad part is sometimes you want to forget something you’ve seen, but time can’t lessen the pain because you keep seeing it. The memory never fades.”
“Oh, kitten.” He squeezes me hard, like he’s trying to take some of those bad things away. I wonder if he knows what he’s doing. If he hadn’t come in here tonight, I’d probably be in my bed replaying memory after memory of things I didn’t want to recall, but right now all I can think about is his arms wrapped around me. The smell of him invading me. And the little taste I have of him on my lips.
Then, without warning, he’s standing with me still in his arms and carrying me down the hallway into my room. He places me on my feet next to my bed, and then he untucks his dress shirt and unbuttons it. I can’t help but watch each button pop, revealing more of his skin. His broad, hard chest comes into view, and I can only stare, stunned at the perfection. As I’m frozen in place, he goes for my dress, unzipping the side and easily slipping it off over my head. Never taking his eyes from my face, he drops it to the floor and opens his own shirt, then puts it on me. He covers my naked body and does up all the buttons, while the whole time I watch as he cares for me.
“Always the gentleman.”
“If you only knew,” he says, masking the words with a deep breath, and I almost don’t catch them.
After he’s finished buttoning me up, he pulls back the covers and picks me up again, placing me in the center of the bed.
“You’ll never fit on the sofa.” I reach out to him, wanting him to lie down with me. “Or were you…” I can’t even finish my sentence, I’m so afraid that he’s leaving. He saw me home, made sure I was okay, and tucked me into bed. My hand drops, because I don’t want this to end. I know when morning comes things will be different. I want to hold on to this for a moment longer before everything comes flooding in. Soon the memories will start pressing down on me, demanding to be heard.
“I’m not leaving.” His voice is soft, and it settles the rising panic.
A sense of calm washes over me, and I reach my hand out to him again. “Then lie down with me.”
He groans and kicks off his shoes. I flip the cover back, inviting him into the bed, making no move to go to the other side. My bed isn’t gigantic, and with me lying in the center he’ll have to touch me to fit his big frame.
He turns off the lamp and surprises me when the bed dips on his side. I think he’s going to lie there, but instead he molds his body against mine, throwing his big leg over me pinning me beneath him, wrapping around me completely. I settle into him and wonder if he can keep the nightmares at bay. When I’m with him he keeps the memories from coming, and tonight, that’s all I want. Peace, sleep and comfort.
Chapter Five
Paige
* * *
I WAKE RIGHT before the sun rises, and the darkness of my room begins to lift. It’s not the sun shining in; it’s more of a light gray. It’s dawn and I’ve slept a dreamless night in the arms of a man I shouldn’t want.
Stretching, I notice that he’s not in bed, but his warmth is all around me. I sit up, thinking that he must have left, but see him sitting in a chair beside the bed, looking at me. His stare makes me feel shy, and I grab the blankets that have fallen in my lap. I don’t use them to cover me; I twist them in my hands, giving them something to do.
“Good morning, kitten.”
His voice is like caramel, and it slides across the room and coats my skin. I feel the stir of something low in my belly, and I want him to come lie down with me. I want him to stand up and climb on top of my body and wordlessly take me. Right here. Right now.
As the fantasy plays out in my mind, I twist the blanket between my fingers. Captain notices and looks down at my hands and then back to my eyes. It’s like he can read my mind when his dark green eyes give me a sad smile. His scent of rosewood is all around me, and though I’ve convinced myself he’s too good for me, I find that I’m desperate for him.
Maybe it’s because I was vulnerable with him last night. Maybe it’s because I’m really turned on by his naked chest and I want to get laid. Or maybe it’s that I trust him. It’s been a long time since I let my guard down, and the last time that happened was with Mallory. Giving my trust to someone is as intimate as giving someone my body, and yet here he is. In my room and in my space, and I want to throw all my apprehensions to the side and fall for him.
It would be so easy to love a man like Ryan Justice. He’s good to the core, sweet, kind, and would never hurt me. Going to him and allowing him into my heart would feel like coming home. I know all these things like I know the sun is moments from coming up, and yet I remain motionless on the bed. All my past fears and insecurities bubble up as the first light breaks through the curtain and shatters our precious connection. The brilliance of the day caresses the space between us, and as if Captain knew it would happen, he nods and stands.
“I’m going to go home.”
I feel so many emotions at one time. I’m sad he’s leaving and relieved at the same time. I don’t know that I’m powerful enough to ask him to go, and yet I’m not strong enough to let him stay. My heart was broken a long time ago, and I don’t have room to love someone so perfect. Someone who could break me beyond the point of return and leave me with the wreckage. I know my past is dark, and I know what my plans are. Last night was a setback, and I need to push it away. I need to push Captain away.
I feel him move to the side of the bed, and his rough hand reaches up and cups my cheek. I’m forced to look up into his beautiful green eyes and see the little flecks of blue as the light touches them.
“This isn’t the end, Paige.” He rubs his thumb across my bottom lip, and my heart beats hopefully. “This is how our story begins.”
He leans down slowly and brushes his lips gently against mine. My eyes flutter closed and I take in his scent and his presence and the warm sugary feel of him once again. And just as I think about how I want more, he’s taking a step back. With one final look, he leaves my bedroom, closing the door behind him.
I fall back against the pillow and lie there trying to find the earth again. What in the hell just happened? I’ve kept him at a distance for so long, and one night I finally give in and suddenly I’m a mess. For most of my life I’ve pushed people from me
emotionally, and until Mallory came along no one had made a dent. Sure, I loved my mother, and she loved me, but we weren’t very expressive about it.
When my mom met Alexander, she’d been young. Too young. That seemed to be his type. Get them young and take advantage. Make it so they depended on him. He wanted his women to think he was God. When she was fifteen he’d found her on the streets and brought her to work in some restaurant he owned. It was all a cover for laundering money and running drugs, but she’d been head over heels for the guy and went willingly. She never told me the whole story, but after she died, an old lady who worked in the restaurant told me everything.
Alexander had forced himself on her the first chance he got. My mother convinced herself that it was payment for all he provided for her. And the fact that he didn’t let his men touch her. She did what he said and worked in the restaurant, but was always there when he came calling. Servicing him. It went on like that for a while, and unsurprisingly, she got pregnant. The first time, she was almost sixteen, and he wouldn’t let her keep it. He had someone come in and give her an abortion against her will. After that he put her on birth control and told her not to let it happen again. She knew about his real family, the wife and his baby boy, and he didn’t want her messing that up. Dirtying his name, as if it wasn’t already. But she got pregnant again not long after, claiming the birth control didn’t work. He made her get a second abortion and told her if she got pregnant again, she’d regret it.
By the time she was twenty she was madly in love with him. Even though he treated her like trash and starting hitting her, she still loved him. I’ll never understand it. I think she had Stockholm syndrome or something. I’d always wondered if he had hit her too hard a few times and she wasn’t all there. Reality wasn’t something my mother dealt in.
She got pregnant and begged him to let her keep it―because she knew he would never leave his family and she wanted a piece of him. I don’t know how she convinced him, but he let her, and I came along. She named me after her grandmother and gave me her last name. I was brought into this world as Paige Marie Turner, and my father never wanted anything to do with me. I think my mother thought she could love me enough that it wouldn’t matter, but I believe she had only enough room in her heart for him. Alexander had consumed her soul and she wouldn’t let him go.