Nobody's Hero

by Kallypso Masters

  “Not yet.”

  She groaned and panted in the sexiest way.

  “I don’t want this to end yet, kitten.”

  She reached up to clasp her hands behind his head and drew him toward her face, where her tongue waited to plunge inside his mouth much as his dick was plunging inside her pussy. Her breath against his mouth smelled minty and he groaned, unable to prolong the ecstasy any longer.

  “Come. Now, kitten.”

  He couldn’t let go to stroke her clit, but let his body strike the sensitive spot until her screams filled the bathroom. “Oh, ohhh, ohhhhhh. Yes, Sir! Please don’t stop. Oh, my God!”

  “Oh, God, Karla! Fuck me dry!” He pumped her body up and down on his dick, letting her pussy land harder against him each time.

  “Acccckkkkkkk! Oh, shit! Don’t stop! Fuck my brains out, Sir!”

  Man, he had her swearing like a sailor now. Oh, who gives a fuck? The sweetest sounds he’d ever heard were coming from her mouth. He felt her pussy spasm around him as she milked him for all she was worth and howled like a cat in heat. God, would he ever get enough of her?

  Not in this fucking lifetime.

  He continued to hold her, impaled on his dick, pressed against the wall. His little tiger liked it rough. How’d he ever find a woman so evenly matched to him?

  When he realized she couldn’t possibly be comfortable in this position, he lifted her off his dick, pressed her body hard against the tile, and let her lower her feet to the bottom of the tub. When her legs gave out, he turned her around and held her against his body with his arm wrapped around her waist and positioned her under the shower spray to wash her off before reaching out to turn off the water.

  He closed his eyes and lifted her into his arms, but didn’t say a word as he dried her off, then lifted her again and carried her down the hall to the room they’d be sharing. He grinned when he saw the twin bed they’d be sleeping in, imaging her body spread out over his. He wasn’t sure how much sleep he’d be able to get.

  But he might need to rack out on the floor instead. He needed some time to think. What in the hell was he going to do with her? All he knew was that the thought of spending the rest of his life without her suddenly seemed so bleak.

  But he had a lot of baggage he didn’t need to be saddling her with, not the least of which was whatever he’d done to his father. While in Minnesota, he’d looked up his mother again, but there was no one there by that name. She could be dead by now. He didn’t know why that thought made him feel sad.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Uncle Damo, he hurt me so bad.”

  “Fire! Help! No more, please!” she begged hysterically.

  “Stop, Daddy! Don’t touch me!”

  Damián bolted up from the bed and tossed the sheet off his lower body. He needed to get to Savannah. He shook his head clear. No, not Savannah. Savi. God, he hadn’t dreamt of her in forever. No, it was Teresa who needed him. He felt around in the dark until he found his prosthesis and tried to strap it onto his ankle. Fucking thing. Why couldn’t he get it to fasten this time?

  Finally, he had it in place. “I’m coming, bebé,” he whispered. He reached into the nightstand for his .357 Magnum and headed for the door. Julio wasn’t going to hurt Teresa ever again.

  “Stop! Don’t!”

  Teresa’s pleas filled his chest with rage. The god-damned motherfucker had come back. When Damián reached her door, he braced himself on his feet so his prosthesis wouldn’t be a liability, and opened the door. In one fluid motion, he leveled the semi-automatic pistol at Teresa’s bed, where the screams were coming from.

  Alone. Fucking nightmare. Madre de Dios, did he ever know what those were like.

  He laid the weapon on her vanity, turned on the lamp, and crossed to the bed. He began speaking to her in a calm, firm voice. “Teresa, wake up. You’re dreaming.” When he touched her arm, she swung at him. “Whoa, it’s Uncle Damo. You’re safe now, princesa.”

  At last, her terror-filled eyes opened, but the glazed look told him she was still in the throes of the nightmare. She pounded at his chest and shoulders with both fists. For a moment, he just let her rage, because he knew she’d feel better after she’d expended some of the adrenaline.

  “I hate you! I hate you!”

  “That’s it, bebé. Let it out.”

  Damn, but she packed a punch. After some targeted self-defense classes, she’d be able to fight off anyone who tried to hurt her ever again.

  Suddenly, her eyes opened wide, her fists paused, and she stared into his eyes. “Uncle Damo?” Her hands opened and she pulled them back as if burned. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” Tears streamed down her eyes as her body shook from the adrenaline crash and he opened his arms for her to come into them.

  “You can’t hurt me, princesa.” Not with your fists, anyway. “But we’ll see about getting you into some classes where you can gain some skills and confidence in protecting yourself.”

  Her arms wrapped around him and she laid her head against his shoulder and bawled until he felt her body grow limp. He eased her back down on the pillow and brushed the loose strands of hair away from her damp forehead.

  “That’s it, bebé. Sleep now.”

  He eased himself up off the bed, catching himself on the bedpost when he realized his good leg had fallen asleep. Gingerly, he hobbled across the room and picked up his Magnum, cast one more glance at Teresa’s sleeping form, and walked out of the room. As the feeling returned to his leg, he realized it had been a long time since he’d had to hobble. God, those long months of getting used to the damned prosthesis, followed by nearly a year before he felt he could walk without crutches or a cane, seemed like forever ago.

  He walked toward the kitchen, wanting to check to be sure the house was secure and no one had entered. Adam and Karla had gone up to Pendleton to spend the night on base with one of his old buddies. Damián needed to send them back to Colorado soon. They couldn’t hang around here forever waiting for Julio to show up. That fucking bastard would pay eventually for what he’d done to Damián’s family, if it was the last thing he did. As far as Damián knew, the bastard still hadn’t been captured. Had he slipped across the border to find sanctuary with relatives in Mexico? Or was some lowlife harboring him in the San Diego barrio where he lived?

  When Damián turned the corner, he saw light spilling from the doorway and found Rosa sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and a cigarette. Damn. She’d taken up smoking again. She turned to him, but didn’t smile or say a word. The dark circles under her eyes told him his sister had been to hell and back. Again.

  No, that bastard had better not show up here, because Damián’s rein on the beast was stretched tight. It wouldn’t take much for him to snap. When he did, nothing would be the same.

  “How is she?”

  “Sleeping.”

  “I’m sorry, Damo. I knew it would be better if you went to her. I can’t protect her.” Her hand shook as she reached for the cigarette and Damián placed his over hers and squeezed. “Oh, Dios.”

  Damián reached out and wrapped his arms around her and held her while she cried. At least she was showing some emotion again. He’d hated the haunted, hollow look in her eyes. Julio’s attack hadn’t only been on Teresa, it had brought up old scars Rosa probably hadn’t dealt with from when Julio had beaten her more than a decade ago.

  “I brought that monster into this family. I encouraged Teresa to go with him that night.”

  “Don’t blame yourself, Rosa. He chose to do what he did.”

  “I wanted her to know her father. He’d never hurt the kids before. Only me.” She gave a ragged sob and held on tighter.

  “Shhh, sis. It’s going to be all right. I’m going to make sure of it.”

  He needed to talk to Savi about getting Rosa into some kind of counseling. His sister had held the weight of so much on her shoulders since she was young. Anyone would break under all the shit she’d been through.

  Maybe he should c
heck in at the shop he’d worked at as a teenager and see if there were any openings. He might be out here awhile. He needed to make some money to help support them until Rosa was able to do so again. He’d always supplemented their income when he could, as far back as when he’d been in the Corps. He needed to provide for his family.

  * * *

  Karla watched the muscle in Adam’s jaw clench. All the way home from Camp Pendleton yesterday, he'd been distracted and silent. Had his friends said something about him being there with someone half his age? She hadn't gotten the impression, but Adam and Major Richardson had hung spent some time separate from the major's wife and Karla. She wondered what they'd discussed, not that it was any of her business.

  didn't feel as if they'd disapproved of her. Still, something seemed to be bothering him. He reached up and rubbed the scars at the back of his neck.

  "I love Lady GaGa's new music video. Have you scene it?"

  Karla turned her attention to Teresa in the backseat of her mother's Ford Focus.

  After hearing that Teresa had suffered from a nightmare last night, Karla thought it might be fun to take the girl shopping. Trite as it may seem, new clothes could always make a girl feel better. Certainly worked for Karla—so she’d made a few purchases of her own tonight. Adam had appointed himself chauffeur—and was also in bodyguard mode. Everyone was on edge waiting to see Julio would do.

  After several hours of shopping in San Diego, Adam had looked ready to implode. Apparently, while he loved to shop for Karla at the kinkster stores, there wasn't quite the thrill shopping with a teenage girl. She suppressed a giggle.

  All in all, though, the evening had been lots of fun and Adam had laughed along with them occasionally, especially when they people watched in the mall's food court.

  Karla also had been able to get Teresa to talk about their shared interest in Goth music. The young woman was so smart, and also wanted to pursue a singing career. Karla couldn't believe it when she'd given her the advice her parents had given her—stay in school, go to college, and then, if you’re still interested, you can major in music.

  Gawd, when had she gotten so old?

  Soon, they’d be back at the house and the weight of all that had happened a couple weeks ago would be back on Teresa’s shoulders. The house had such a depressing pall over it. Poor little José had needed a reprieve, too, so Rosa had let him spend the night at a friend’s house tonight. It was bad enough José and Damián had to camp out in the living room of the tiny bungalow, with Rosa insisting that Karla and Adam have his bedroom. Karla had tried to make it fun for him by helping him create a tent with some chairs and blankets, the same as she and Ian had done when they were young. But José needed to get back to some normalcy, too, and she and Adam had decided they’d head back to Denver by Wednesday.

  That would be a week since Karla had been out here. Teresa seemed to be coping and had seen her counselor again today. There still were times when the glaze of pain came over her face and her eyes became vacant, lost in the horror of her attack. How could a father do something so horrendous to his daughter? Rape was vile in any circumstance, but to violate a sacred trust like that went beyond anything Karla could ever understand. Her own father had always been affectionate, supportive, and loving. She felt so safe with him. It was hard to imagine there were such monsters in the world.

  She realized she felt safe with Adam, too. He was protective, affectionate, caring, strong, and everything she’d ever imagined a man should be. Something had changed when he came out here. Had something happened in Minneapolis to make him see her differently? All she knew was that he didn’t seem to be pushing her away all the time.

  Even though they couldn’t really indulge in their Dom/sub lifestyle here, she always felt that aura of control and power around him. She looked for ways to please him, because that pleased her. Last night, everyone had been watching a popular Marine/Navy investigation show on TV and, when Karla and Rosa had finished cleaning up the kitchen, Rosa had gone to bed, but Karla had ventured into the living room. The places to sit were filled and, when Adam had started to get up for her, she motioned for him to remain seated. Then she’d curled up on the floor between his knees and leaned back against his thigh.

  He stroked her hair, one of her most erogenous zones. A sense of peace and contentment had come over her unlike anything she’d ever known. She’d let her guard down completely and the next thing she knew, he had her hand and was guiding her up into his lap, where she curled up and promptly fell asleep.

  Bliss.

  Cassie and her other friends would have died if they’d seen her in such a domestic scene. Karla had never submitted to a man or anyone else. And yet, even after the disaster that was their Master/slave arrangement, something had changed for her then. She couldn’t live that extreme twenty-four/seven way, but what about on an as-needed basis? With the emotional roller-coaster everyone had been on lately, she welcomed relinquishing control and letting Master Adam call the shots. Very freeing.

  But what happens next? Adam had never talked of love or anything permanent. Could she just go on living a shadow life? Would he ever be able to move on from Joni and take another wife? Somehow she knew that being a friend with benefits or just his BDSM partner wouldn’t be enough for her.

  She wanted Adam’s love and commitment.

  Might as well shoot for the moon, Kitty.

  * * *

  “Don’t move, motherfucker, or I’ll blow your head off—then I’ll blow your fucking brains out.” Both hands on his weapon, Damián leveled the Magnum directly at Julio’s balls and waited. He’d show his former brother-in-law what pain feels like. His expert pistol marksmanship training in the Marines ensured he wouldn’t miss, especially at such close range. What kind of idiot was Julio, breaking the window and crawling into the utility room? Did he think Damián was fucking deaf? Or did he just think that Damián wouldn’t be here to protect what was his this time?

  Hands in the air, Julio pumped his palms toward Damián, as if to calm him down. But Damián was as cool as fried ice cream. He smiled. Plain and simple, he planned to kill the bastard this time. It would be slow, bloody, and painful—nothing like the way he’d been trained to kill by the Marines.

  “Damo, man, I just had too much to drink. I fucked up.”

  Judging from the way he swayed on his feet, he’d fucked up again. Had he ever.

  What had he broken in here for? To attack Teresa again? Damián felt rage building in him, but tamped it down. Remain calm.

  “No, bastardo, you raped your daughter—my niece—and for that, you’re going to pay.”

  Damián reveled in the look of pure terror on his former brother-in-law’s face. The man’s eyes bulged from his eye sockets and he lowered his hands to cover his crotch, as if they’d shield him from the first bullet Damián planned to discharge from his weapon, ensuring Julio would never rape anyone again. For the first time since he’d heard about Teresa’s attack, Damián felt like he was in control.

  Maybe for the first time in an even longer time—since before Fallujah. Before Savannah.

  Damián heard the key in the lock of the back door and before he could wave them off, Karla and Teresa came into the utility room laughing. When she saw her father, Teresa’s eyes grew round and Karla pushed the girl toward the back door, trying to keep her out of harm’s way. With her back turned toward Julio, the bastard grabbed Karla in a chokehold and hauled her against him. He retrieved a knife from his boot and held the blade to her throat. A moment of sheer terror flashed in Karla’s eyes as she pleaded silently with Damián to do something.

  “Put the gun down, Damo, or I cut this bitch.”

  “Dad! Don’t hurt her! Go away Leave us alone!” Teresa’s voice became shrill and tears streamed down her face. She held her arms to her abdomen and began crying, then screamed. Damián watched as Adam’s arm reached inside the door and pulled her outside to safety.

  “No! I can stop him!”

  * * *<
br />
  Adam yanked his cell phone out of his pocket. “Teresa, go down to the corner and call 911. Now.” He pressed the phone into her hand and shoved her toward the street. With Teresa out of harm’s way, Adam glanced through the window to assess the situation. That fucking dickwad Julio had his hands on Karla. Oh, yeah, he’d pay for touching her, scaring her, and if he hurt her, he’d pay with his life.

  Damián pointed his .357 at Julio’s head, but Karla was in the way. Adam motioned for Damián to stand down. She was too close to chance taking Julio out, and even though he knew his son could hit his target from a lot further away. He wouldn’t risk Karla getting shot if someone moved. Adam couldn’t lunge at them, either, and have Julio flinch or move, because the knife was lying right against her skin.

  Karla looked at Adam then Damián, scared and maybe expecting them to rescue her. Same facial expression as when she’d been pinned by the cougar against a boulder on Mount Evans. He’d rescued her then, but this cat wasn’t as predictable. When she locked onto Adam’s gaze again, he tried to communicate with her nonverbally. He eased into the room, but Julio’s knife pressed tighter against her jugular and he pulled her head back, making Karla more vulnerable.

  “Back off, man!”

  Adam raised his hands.

  As if a light bulb clicked on, Karla's expression hardened and, just the way they’d trained on their day at the martial-arts center last month, she raised her hands.

  That’s it, baby. I’m ready when you are.

  In a flash, Karla grabbed onto the wrist in which Julio held the knife and using both of her hands pulled his down as she pivoted and raised her left knee into his elbow. The knife clattered to the floor as Julio’s elbow cracked and he screamed in pain. Before Adam could lunge forward to pull her away from danger, she completed the move, jamming the heel of her foot into the back of his knee and Julio began to crumple.