Big Bad Marine

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Big Bad Marine Page 14

by Jackie Ashenden


  “Rose,” West growled warningly.

  She ignored him, forcing the rest of it out. “I went inside and he pushed me up against the wall. Put his hand between my legs. Said that if I wanted him to leave Lily alone, he needed some incentive.” The hand around hers was tight now, holding onto her. She stared at the table top, at the grain of the wood. There was a dent in it near where she was sitting. “At that point, someone came to the door and he went to open it, and I escaped out the back. He didn’t do anything else to me.” She met West’s furious gaze, because it was furious. Incandescent even. “But that wasn’t the worst part.”

  “Groping an under-age girl wasn’t the worst part?” West’s voice had gone very deep and very rough. “Rose—”

  “No,” she interrupted flatly. “It wasn’t. I could have handled that if I hadn’t stood there like a fucking idiot. If I hadn’t frozen. If I hadn’t said I’d give him whatever he wanted in order to leave Lily alone.” The remembered shame and fear came pouring back, at herself and how she’d let him manipulate her. “I was so scared. If he wanted to screw me right there and then, I would have let him. I would have let him do whatever he wanted.”

  West was staring at her very intently and he was sitting very still. And she could feel the fury coming off him in waves, rising like heat from a desert road.

  “Mason’s dead,” she went on, hating the vulnerable feeling that had opened up inside her again. “So, don’t make it into a thing, okay?”

  “Was he cremated?” West sounded more animal than man. “Because if not, I might dig up that fucker’s corpse and kill it again.”

  “Leave it, okay? I was young. I was sixteen and I shouldn’t have gone to see him. But I wanted him to leave her alone.”

  West’s gaze burned like quicksilver. “How long after that did Duchess come to hire me?”

  She sighed. Of course, he’d ask this question. “I don’t know how she found out, but she knew I’d gone to see him. And she was pissed with me. And she wanted to hire some protection to make sure I was safe – or at least that’s what she told me. She found you a couple of days later.”

  “I see.” He was silent a moment. “So, this is all about proving you can look after yourself, right?”

  The vulnerable feeling deepened and she hated that he could read her so easily. But he wasn’t wrong. “I don’t want Lily to worry about me. She’s got so much on her plate, and I—”

  “You froze.” West’s voice cut through hers like a knife through silk. “And you were afraid. He made you feel weak and powerless.”

  Her jaw hardened, the words like stones hitting her, each one jagged and painful. “I—”

  “You’re angry at her, “West went on, staring right at her. “You’re angry at Duchess for not protecting you. For getting with a guy who hurt her and who hurt you.”

  Rose stared at him, shocked and unable to think of a word to say.

  He’s right. You are angry with her. You’re angry about a whole lot of things.

  “No,” she said thickly. “I don’t think that’s true.”

  “Yeah, it is.” His hand around hers tightened. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the angry teenager I was hired to protect. Who didn’t want me around, who didn’t want anyone around. Who was pissed at all the world and who made sure I fucking knew about it.”

  Embarrassment heated her cheeks. “I wasn’t like that.”

  “Of course, you were, darlin’.” His thumb rubbed suddenly along her skin, leaving a trail of sparks. “And I didn’t blame you. In fact, now I think about, it was kind of familiar. Since I was like that as a teenager, too.”

  She blinked. “You were?”

  He shifted in his seat, relaxing, the anger bleeding out of him. “I tried to be a good kid after Mom died. She was a free spirit, a bit wild, and I think Dad loved that about her. But after she was gone, he kind of shut himself away. He told me I had to be a good boy for him now Mom wasn’t around to look after us. And I tried. But he got more and more rigid as time went on. Less and less tolerant. By the time I was fifteen or so, I was over it. I rebelled big time.” He shook his head. “So yeah, I recognize an angry teenager when I see one.” There was a pause. “And I recognize a girl angry that no one protected her, too.”

  Rose’s throat felt tight and oddly sore, denial sitting inside her. Because it was wrong to feel angry at Lily. Who’d done the best she could with what she had. Who’d given up so much to look after her.

  “You don’t have to prove you’re strong, Rose,” West went on, lifting the thought from her head in the way he so often seemed to do. “You were never a burden to her.”

  Her eyes filled with sudden tears. Did she think that? That she was a burden to her sister?

  Of course, you did. You wanted to make sure she didn’t have to give up anything else for you.

  She looked away from him, blinking hard, a raw, tender thing in her chest where her heart should be. Not wanting him to see how exposed she felt in that moment. Not wanting him to see how right he was. Because she couldn’t deny it. And he would see through it instantly anyway.

  Another long silence fell, taut and aching.

  Then she heard the sound of a chair being scraped back and when she looked up, found West had gotten up and was coming around the table to where she sat. He didn’t say anything, reaching for her and pulling her up out of her seat, his arms sliding around her, urging her in close.

  Her instinct was to pull away, to protect herself, to hide, but the heat of his body was seeping through the cotton of her T-shirt and into her, warming her, thawing a part of her she hadn’t realized was frozen. It was stupid to pull away now anyway, especially since she’d given him pretty much everything.

  “She loves you, Rosie girl,” he said softly. “And sure, she gave up a lot of things to look after you. But you don’t need to prove that you’re worthy of them. Any more than she needs to prove she’s worthy of you. You both would do anything for the people you love and that’s enough.”

  She put her hands on his chest, staring at the fabric of his T-shirt, unable to look him in the eyes, even now. “Lily had no choice, though. She never got a say in whether she wanted to look after me or not, she just had to do it.”

  “Yeah, and she did.” One warm finger caught her beneath her chin, tipping her head back, forcing her to meet his intense gaze. “You were her family. She didn’t need a reason and even if she’d had a choice, she would have chosen you.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  West’s beautiful mouth lifted at one corner, his smile bittersweet. “Yeah, I do. I have a sister, too, remember?”

  Yes, he did. The sister he’d failed to protect and who blamed him for that failure. And who he looked out for anyway.

  “West,” she began.

  But he shook his head, tightening one arm around her, holding her more firmly against him. “I don’t want to talk about that, darlin’. Not now.”

  Rose wanted to push, but his arms around her felt good and she didn’t want him to let her go. Didn’t want to lose the warmth and understanding that was between them, so instead she said, “Okay. But I don’t want what I told you about Mason to change things between us.”

  “Change what?”

  “You know what I’m talking about.” Because he would. The similarities between what had happened to his sister and what had happened with Mason were too significant. “Mason didn’t do to me what your friend did to your sister, but I still don’t want you to see me any differently because of it.”

  West didn’t say anything for a long moment, the uncompromising silver edge in his gaze glittering. But she didn’t look away, because she could be uncompromising too, and this was important.

  “I’m not a different person,” she said. “I’m still the same as before. I’m not a goddamn victim.”

  “I didn’t say you were.”

  “No, but I know what’s going on in that handsome head of yours.” She pressed her hands to his hard
chest. “You want to protect me and you want to protect me from yourself, right?”

  A muscle flicked in his jaw, but he didn’t speak.

  Rose glared at him. “Well, I don’t want you to protect me from you. You’re not Mason. You told me what you wanted and you asked me if I wanted it, too. You gave me so many warnings and lots of opportunity to stop what was going on.” She gave him a ferocious look. “I wanted you. I wanted you so much. And I liked it. I liked every bit of it. But the most important part of all?”

  His expression didn’t relax, yet he remained where he was.

  “You didn’t make me feel weak or vulnerable,” she went on, so he knew exactly where he stood and didn’t get into any stupid blaming bullshit. “What you did to me made me feel like I wasn’t a victim. That I was strong, okay?”

  Something shifted in his eyes. “I hurt you.”

  “And I wanted you to. And I loved every bit of it. And all I could think of was how different you were to Mason. How different the whole experience was. And I liked it, you know I did.”

  “I don’t know how you stand it,” he said suddenly. “Knowing what he did to you and yet taking the same fucking shit from me.”

  Rose shook her head. “Don’t be stupid. Didn’t you hear a word of what I said? It’s not the same. Mason didn’t ask. He just took. And he didn’t care about me. He didn’t give a shit. But you do, West. You care. Mason was an asshole, but you’re not and that makes all the difference.”

  An expression she couldn’t read crossed his face. “Don’t go putting me on a pedestal, Rosie girl. Not when I don’t belong there.”

  Rose lifted her hands and took his face between them, holding him firmly, because this was important. No, this was vital. “You might not think you belong there, West O’Connor. But you don’t get a say. It’s my pedestal and I’ll put you where I like.”

  Again, he didn’t speak. He just looked at her for a long, intense moment. Then the sharp edge in his eyes turned into something else, becoming hot, burning her alive where she stood. His fist tightened in her hair.

  And he covered her mouth with his.

  10

  It was fucking hot and driving down the Strip was a goddamn traffic nightmare. But Rose had never been to Vegas and he wanted her to see it.

  She sat back in her seat with her feet on the dash, the windows down and the heat of early afternoon blowing her curls around. And even though she had her sunglasses on and he couldn’t see her eyes, he could see the excited grin that turned her mouth as they drove slowly down the main drag, taking in all the casinos and hotels, the huge signs and billboards, the masses of people and cars. All as loud and brash and totally out there as Las Vegas itself.

  That grin made his chest feel tight and it had been doing so ever since they’d left the motel in Arizona that morning.

  Something had changed between them last night and he wasn’t sure what it was, but it unsettled him. Maybe it was talking about Carly. Telling Rose about his catastrophic failure was never going to be easy, but he’d done it because he’d wanted to hear her story. Only it hadn’t been anything like what he’d expected. And then hearing what that fucker Mason had done to her…

  It was a good thing that asshole was dead, because if he hadn’t been, West had a very strong notion he might have gone searching for him to put him the ground himself.

  Perhaps you should put yourself in there, too, for touching her the way you did.

  Yeah, he couldn’t deny that hadn’t hit him hard. Rose had been assaulted, been hurt by some fucking selfish asshole who hadn’t given a shit, and what had West himself done? He’d pulled her hair and spanked her, ordered her around, made her suck him off, all the bad shit.

  She’d been very firm the night before that it had been different with him, that with him she wanted it. That it made her feel strong. And something in himself had glowed hot in his chest as she’d said it. Because she seemed so certain and was so fierce about it that he didn’t doubt it was true.

  Yet still doubt nagged at him. Sex with her was amazing and he loved how into him and what he did to her she was. But sex was all he had to give her. He had nothing else to offer a sweet, lovely, passionate girl like her. And even though she might be into what he did to her, it didn’t mean she knew him.

  Christ, he was supposed to be frightening her away by showing her himself in all his ugly glory. He wasn’t supposed to be having her cup his face in her small hands and telling him that she’d put him on a pedestal whether he liked it or not.

  He was supposed to tell her about what happened with Carly and she was supposed to be appalled. She was supposed to pull away from him not simply…accept him.

  But then maybe it didn’t matter. Only another day and it would be over anyway. They’d go back to Austin and everything would return to normal.

  Oh yeah, sure it will. How are you going to do normal with her ever again?

  Good question. Because the issue wasn’t only knowing about Mason and what he’d done to her. It was more than that, deeper than that. It was about knowing what she looked like naked and what she looked when she came. Knowing what it felt like when she touched him, when her blue eyes looked at him as if he was the hero he’d always wanted to be when he was small and playing with toy soldiers at his father’s feet.

  Normal didn’t involve any of that. In fact, he had a horrible suspicion that all of that had changed normal forever.

  You are so fucking screwed.

  West tore his gaze from Rose’s bright face and scowled at the traffic in front of him, trying to shove those particular thoughts away. “Should have timed it so we drove in at night,” he grumbled, trying to distract himself. “That way you could have seen all the signs lit up.”

  Rose tilted her head back and to the side, staring up at a building towering above them. “I don’t care. And hey, I will see at night, right? I mean, we have to find Jenkins, don’t we? That might take us a while.”

  Actually it wouldn’t. West knew exactly where Jenkins was. He’d called a Vegas contact that morning who’d told him that Jenkins had been playing the tables at Caesar’s Palace for the past couple of days and didn’t look like he was going anywhere else, which meant all West and Rose needed to do was walk in, grab the prick and drag him back to Texas.

  Correction. West needed a few minutes with the fucker alone to give him a really good piece of his mind, then he and Rose could drag him back to Texas.

  “This isn’t a vacation, darlin’,” he said repressively, annoyed at the aching feeling inside him, the one that had more to do with the bright, excited woman sitting next to him than the end of a personal mission he’d been waiting on for a few years now. “So if you’re hoping to get in a couple of days of sightseeing, you’re shit out of luck.”

  But she didn’t seem to hear the edge in his voice. Instead she turned and gave him a look from over the top of her sunglasses, her eyes sparkling with heat and excitement, and just a touch of her trademark naughtiness. “Are you sure we can’t sneak in a tiny vacation? Like maybe a night? We could get a room in a swanky hotel, play some blackjack.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Or strip poker if you’d rather. I’m not very good at it.”

  His groin tightened. Fuck, everything tightened. He should be dismissing even the merest suggestion of putting off finding Jenkins in favor of spending more time with Rose – especially in bed with Rose – and yet he wasn’t. In fact, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend the night. Hell, it didn’t even have to be about sex. He liked the idea of teaching her to play the tables, or even just walking down the Strip hand in hand and sightseeing would be pretty cool.

  Hand in fucking hand?

  West cursed, jamming on the brakes as the car in front of him slowed for a red light and he nearly hit it. What the ever-loving fuck was he thinking? He’d never wandered anywhere with anyone, let alone hand in goddamned hand.

  And now he was nearly crashing his car because he was too busy thinking about Rose.
Jesus.

  “West? Are you okay?”

  He could feel Rose’s concerned gaze on him and he didn’t want to look at her. Didn’t want to meet those big blue eyes and forget himself, because he had a horrible feeling that he would the way he had the night before. When they’d finally gone to bed and she’d looked up at him and said ‘West, please.’ In a voice that made him ache all over. Sweet, husky. Desperate.

  Needing him.

  No one had needed him for a long time, if they ever had. And why would they? When he’d pretty much betrayed everyone who was important to him?

  “I’m fine,” he said shortly. “Just hate sitting in fucking traffic.”

  There was hugely skeptical silence which he saw no reason to break.

  “Oookay,” Rose said after a moment. “Well, we need to find ourselves a hotel for the night, though right? I mean, I assume we can’t get Jenkins and take him straight back to Texas—”

  “That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” West interrupted, knowing he sounded harsh and yet unable to keep the edge from his tone. “In fact, I’ll send you back to Austin by air and I’ll drive the prick back myself.”

  Another silence fell, this time not so much skeptical as puzzled.

  “You don’t have to send me back by myself. I can come—”

  “No. I don’t want you and that asshole in the same space.” Ian looking at Rose. Ian hurting Rose the same way he’d hurt Carly… No. Just no. “Fuck, I don’t want you even sharing the same goddamn air.” Of course, as soon as he’d said it, he realized he sounded too angry, too sharp.

 

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