Fall on Me

by Chloe Walsh

  I had been that girl.

  And I would never forgive the fact that there was someone out there who could have protected me–should have protected me–and didn't. I didn't have any photographs to document my childhood. There were no knitted booties or boxes of treasures marked 'Delia' to show that I had been born, let alone loved. All I had from my childhood was nightmares and scars.

  I had a daughter and I knew in my heart that there wasn't a force on this earth that could stop me from protecting her. I understood what it meant to be a mother. I just didn't understand what it was like to have one. I had survived twenty years without one, I didn't need one now.

  The door of our hotel room burst open and my heart almost climbed out of my throat. Call it survival instincts or call it me being a coward, but I couldn't stop myself from crouching between the couch and my daughter's crib. Every loud noise I heard brought to the surface memories I tried so hard to stifle.

  Blood pooling around her pale, sunken face. Seeping into her blonde hair…

  Those evil green eyes dancing with malice as the sound of a gun being fired bellowed through my eardrums…

  The sound of flesh ripping apart as the smell of burning skin infected my senses…

  My life flashing before my eyes as the darkness of death loomed over me…

  "Pack your shit, princess. I got us a house." My heart restarted at the sound of Kyle's familiar husky tone and I let out a quivering breath. "Lee, where are you, baby?"

  Climbing awkwardly to my feet, I smiled sheepishly at my fiancé. "Hi," I mumbled.

  Kyle, who had about half a dozen duffel bags hanging from his neck–and two suitcases in his hands–tipped his head to one side. He stared at me like he could see right through my skin, straight to the core of me, and knowing Kyle he probably could.

  Kyle Carter knew every inch of my body. Every fraction of my soul. He was the first man I'd ever been with intimately. The first to break my heart. The first to put it back together again. He was my first, my last and my everything that came in between. He was also the sexiest man I'd ever seen and I wasn't kidding. Seriously, the man was so beautiful it hurt to look at him. Tall and toned, he had a body worthy of an underwear model. His short brown hair had a naturally tousled appearance–it was the kind of hair that made a woman want to run her nails through it–soft, silky and with just enough length to grab hold of…And when he looked at me, really looked at me with those blazing blue eyes, the intensity was almost too much.

  I still couldn't believe I'd gotten so lucky. This man was going to marry me. Me. Lee Bennett. The small town girl from Montgomery, Louisiana. We'd talked about setting a date but had decided to wait until the trial was over before making any plans. Well, I had decided to wait. Kyle had pouted for three days until he reluctantly gave in. If he had his way we would fly to Vegas tonight. He'd tried to take me the day I said yes, but I'd persuaded him to slow down before informing him that I didn't have a passport. I did now. The man worked fast. That was the thing about Kyle. He never sat still on anything. If he wanted something he took it.

  Kyle was a force to be reckoned with. He was like a tornado blowing in and sweeping up everyone and everything in his path. Thankfully, he'd decided to take me along for the tumultuous ride and in a few months' time I would be his wife.

  "What were you doing on the floor, baby?" he asked in his deep husky voice as he placed the cases at his feet. His eyes trailed over every inch of my body, causing the heat in my belly to rise to my face. I dropped my hand from where I'd been clutching my side.

  "Um..." I raked my brain for something to say that wouldn't add to the unnecessary guilt he carried.

  Kyle had absorbed so much guilt from the night of the shooting. I didn't want to add another layer by telling him I was scared to death when he wasn't close by. He didn't need the worry. He was a busy man. Sometimes I wondered how he was able to make so much time for us while running twenty hotels around the country. And I knew he felt responsible for Cam's death and for what had happened to me. It wasn't true though. Not in the slightest.

  There were things that had happened to us in the past that Kyle was responsible for. The lies and his constant hot and cold attitude towards me when we first met was something I had no problem with him taking responsibility for. The night I'd miscarried his child while he'd been with his ex was another. But his ex-girlfriend breaking into his house and shooting us down in cold blood was not.

  I wished I could take some of the burden off his shoulders, but that was the type of person Kyle was. He internalized absolutely everything negative that happened to us until he found some reason to blame himself. But instead of moping and sulking he turned his fear and his guilt into something positive. He had a never say die attitude and he was a man of action. He got things done when they needed to be done. His mental strength and dominant protectiveness of the people he loved were some of the things I admired most about him. They were also the things that drove me freaking crazy.

  Besides, if Kyle was blaming himself then I deserved to be blamed, too. Rachel had cornered me weeks before the shooting and I hadn't told anyone. She'd threatened to bury me and I had ignored it…"I was doing some…exercise," I muttered in an attempt to drag myself back to the present. Kyle's expression was one of disbelief and I knew he could smell the bullshit a mile away for two obvious reasons. One: my cheeks were as red as tomatoes. And two: I wasn't a fitness bunny and it showed. I had hips, thighs and a mommy ass. "You said you got us a house?" I asked as I crossed the room to close the space between us. "Where?"

  Kyle nodded his head in the direction of our bedroom before stalking off. I checked Hope and fixed her blankets before following Kyle. He closed the door as soon as I stepped inside our bedroom. Pulling the straps of the duffel bags over his head, he dropped them on the floor before tugging on my hips gently. "I didn't think," he whispered as he trailed his hands up my sides to cup my face. "I should've knocked." He ducked his head and placed a soft lush kiss on my lips before pulling back quickly.

  "Where is this house?" I asked as I nuzzled my cheek against the warmth of his chest. I refused to let him dwell. We were moving forward. It was the only way we would survive our past.

  ****

  Kyle

  "South Peak Road," I grunted as I held her frail body in an attempt to calm myself down. "It's nice, baby. Secluded." An array of emotions were running through me. Hatred toward Rachel for causing all of this. Pity for the tiny woman in front of me who seemed more afraid now than she'd ever been before. And pure fucking anger with myself for not having the common sense to knock on the damn door first. Jesus Christ, it had shredded me inside when I saw her hiding on the floor. What the hell was wrong with me?

  "Did you sign the lease yet?" Lee asked in a soft tone as she snuggled against my chest. "I'd like to see it before you do."

  "Lease?" I shook my head and looked down at her. Shit, was she going to be pissed? "Lee, I bought it. I get the keys in a few weeks."

  "You bought a house?" she gasped stepping away from me. "Just like that?" She snapped her fingers to emphasize her statement and I couldn't help but laugh at her shocked expression.

  "Took me long enough," I chuckled. "I should have had you moved into a house the day you came home, but I was waiting on the right one to come up" I shrugged and smiled down at her. "Happy birthday…well, consider it more of a sorry for fucking up your last two birthdays…birthday." I hoped like hell the house would make up for the disastrous birthday meal I'd thrown for her.

  Lee turned twenty last week and I felt like the worst piece of shit in the world for making her celebrate it in the hotel restaurant. She deserved a big bash in a huge house and instead she'd had a cake, some candles and had been pooped on by Hope that day and then puked on by Derek later on that night. It was a goddamn disaster right down to the stupid stuffed gorilla I'd bought her with the logo 'you blow my mind' on it. I still couldn't explain why I hadn't realized how insensitive the words were. The only damn r
eason I'd chosen that gorilla in the first place was because he had fingers and I was able to slide the engagement ring I'd bought for her on one of them. Lee had grinned like a lunatic and thanked me repeatedly when I gave it to her, but when I'd discovered what was written on his chest I could have kicked myself in the balls. I'd tried to get rid of the gorilla, but she refused point blank to give him back. Now the damn thing was pride of place in our bed…But my crucial mistake had been the stupid fucking song I played on my iPod dock–and possibly the half dozen shots of tequila I'd done with Derek–when I got her back to our suite that night. I'd been fairly wasted and I'd dragged Lee out of bed to dance to Foster the People's song 'Pumped up kicks.'

  Yeah, I was an asshole.

  "Sorry about your birthday, baby," I mumbled as I tried to block the mental image of my drunk ass singing the words 'you better run, better run, faster than my bullet,' to my fiancée.

  She stared up at me with those beautiful gray eyes and hit me with one of her killer smiles. "I had a great time," she beamed. "You were so funny. You're incredibly cute when you're drunk, Kyle."

  I snorted and decided to ignore the cute comment before asking, "You're not pissed that I didn't ask for your input on the house?" I forgot these type of decisions were supposed to be made together. This was a learning process for me though. I never had a family before Lee and Hope. Everything I'd done before them I'd done on my own.

  "Kyle, you just bought a home for us to live in," she said in a soft tone of voice. "Of course I'm not angry. I'm thrilled." Her eyes bore into mine with such intensity that my skin starting to burn. She burned me with one look. Jesus, I was in deep… "Our own place," she added with a grin as she reached up and stroked my cheek with her small hand. "A fresh start…sounds pretty nice right about now."

  A weight lifted off my shoulders. She was happy. I decided to take the plunge. "Your mom phoned me today." I paused to let that sink in before adding, "Lee, you need to speak to the woman. She keeps calling. Nonstop."

  The light in Lee's eyes evaporated. I could see the shutters closing and I regretted opening my stupid mouth and ruining the moment. "I'm going to take a shower," she muttered as she backed away from me. "Don't forget to check on Hope. Oh, and turn on the baby monitor please."

  I watched her stalk into the bathroom. The sound of the bathroom door locking confirmed to me that I was on her shit list. No surprises there. Most days I ranked first on that list. Sighing deeply, I went to check on the other woman in my life. At least Hope was too young to have shit lists.

  ****

  Chapter 4

  Scar tissue

  Lee

  I stayed under the hot stream of water until my skin was pruned and my anger had disintegrated. I wished my mother would stop phoning my fiancé. It was unsettling to think of what her motives could be. I didn't trust her. Not one bit. I often wondered would she have come forward and helped me had Kyle not been in my life. Was it me who she sought to build a relationship with or was it the wallet of my million dollar man in the bedroom next door?

  Shutting the water off, I climbed out of the shower and wrapped a large fluffy towel around my body. I purposefully avoided looking in the mirror as I brushed my teeth and prepared for bed. There was nothing in my reflection that I wanted to see. Cursing myself for forgetting my pajamas I made my way back into the bedroom.

  Kyle was standing next to our bed when I opened the door. His hands paused on the waistband of his jeans as his eyes locked on mine. "You okay?" he asked in a gruff tone.

  "Yeah," I whispered as I chewed on my lip and tried to keep my eyes on his face and off his bare chest. "I don't want to meet her yet, Kyle. I'm not ready. It's going to put more strain on us if you don't let this go."

  Resting his hands on his hips, Kyle shook his head in frustration. "It's something that needs to happen, Lee. You can't spend the rest of your life ignoring the fact that she's alive. I can't live the rest of my life knowing more about your parents than you do. You will regret this so fucking much if you don't get some closure. I'm not asking you to be her best friend, Lee. One meeting. That's it."

  "I need more time, Kyle," I growled. "I woke up three and a half months ago to find my whole life altered. I'm dealing with my injuries. I'm handling having our personal life splashed all over the newspapers. I am coping with the realization that my best friend is dead. I cannot deal with her as well. Please…just give me some time to wrap my head around this. I've spent my whole life believing she was dead. I need more time. A lot of it."

  Kyle hissed loudly and threw his hands up in exasperation. "When the hell did you get so stubborn?" There was a smirk to his lips that told me he was dropping this, for now at least.

  "It's a self-preservation tactic," I said with a small smile. "Did you check on Hope?"

  "Three times," he sighed. "She's fine, baby. Stop worrying." I couldn't help it. It was probably a first time mom thing, but some nights I actually got out of bed and crept into her room to make sure she was breathing. Kyle caught me once, when she was a month old, with my ear about an inch from her chest. The following day he'd arrived home with one of those sensor mats to put under her mattress–the ones that sent out an alarm if the baby stopped breathing for longer than thirty seconds. She was only twenty-two weeks old and should be sleeping in our room with us, but we had to cordon off a section of the lounge area for her to sleep because I'd woken her up every night with my screaming. I felt terrible about it. The child was supposed to wake up the mother at night, not the other way around…

  The guilt I felt for missing so much of my daughter's young life crushed me. I wasn't the one who had slowly coaxed Hope into her sleeping routine. I wasn't the one who had taught her to clap her hands or discovered she preferred to have a night-light on in her room when she slept. I wasn't there when she rolled on her belly for the first time. I hadn't held her little hand when she got her vaccination shots. I wasn't the one who weaned her from breast milk to formula, or stayed up all night with her when she cut her first tooth. Kyle was the one who did all of those things for our daughter. He'd been her father and mother when I couldn't. I'd been in hospital and had missed twelve crucial weeks of my daughter's life...

  Hope was barely eight weeks old when I was shot and I had been in hospital six weeks before the doctors had cleared her to visit me. Kyle had been very insulted when the doctors had refused to let Hope visit me after I woke up. "What the fuck do you think she has?" he'd hissed at the doctor. "Baby cooties?" But my body was extremely weak at the time and they were worried about the possibility of infection. As it stood, I'd caught three infections–one in my bowel and the other two in my bladder–after my surgery. My recovery had been slow and painful process-excruciatingly painful. I had some nerve damage in my lower back which required weeks of intense physiotherapy.

  When she was finally allowed to see me Kyle had brought her every day, but Hope had forgotten who I was. For weeks she would cry and scream whenever I held her, only stopping when Kyle cuddled her. It used to kill me. It hurt more than a hundred bullets. I couldn't soothe her or calm her down when she fretted. All she'd wanted was her daddy…This went on for weeks and I used to cry so hard when they left. Kyle always came back at night, but it devastated me to know my baby was so far away from me. Growing up without me…

  "Lee, she's okay. I promise," Kyle said in a soft tone. "Nothing bad is going to happen to her. I won't let it. All right?"

  "I know that. I'm sorry," I muttered. "I just worry about her."

  "That's what mothers do…"

  "Don't," I said in a weary tone. I knew full well where he was going with this. "Please, Kyle. Not tonight." A vein in his neck pulsed as he nodded his head.

  I watched–more like gawked–as Kyle shrugged off his jeans and climbed into bed. He stared at the stuffed gorilla he bought me with a look of disgust before flinging it on the floor and focusing his gaze on me. I hovered at the foot of the bed nervously. He was staring and I didn't like it. "Come on, bab
y. Get your sexy ass over here," he purred as he patted a spot on the mattress next to him.

  He wasn't fooling anyone with that 'sexy' remark. We hadn't made love since before the shooting and I wore a t-shirt and sweats in bed. He had enforced a no sex rule the day I came home from the hospital and I hadn't protested. I didn't want to embarrass either of us by having him tell me why. I knew Kyle loved me, but even I had to admit that I wouldn't be overly enthusiastic about getting me naked if I was him. He was gorgeous, painstakingly beautiful, and my body was a road map of scars. They were all over my skin. It was disgusting.

  "Can you turn around please?" I asked him. I knew I sounded foolish but the light was on and it made me uncomfortable. "Or at least close your eyes?"

  Kyle frowned and leaned on his elbows. "Why?"

  "Kyle," I groaned as I tightened my grip on the towel around my breasts. "I'm a blanket of scars. I don't want to sicken you." I wasn't ashamed of my nudity. I was ashamed of my body. There was a very big difference.

  He'd seen my scars once in the hospital and that one time had been enough to confirm what I'd been secretly dreading. The distraught look on his face when he'd helped me into the shower stall in the hospital…The horrified look in his eyes as they'd roamed over my skin had hit me hard. I knew in that moment that it was too much. I had too many marks to be desirable. I was too deformed to be sexy.

  Kyle sat straight up. The white bed sheets pooled around his waist. "Do you honestly think that I see you any differently tonight than I did the first night I saw you?" Yeah, actually I do…You have eyes and you're not blind.