by Jenika Snow
He slapped a hand over her mouth before she could get the word out. Just as she saw the bouncer turn her way, Max was leading her in the opposite direction, toward a back exit. She struggled against him, but Max was bigger and stronger. His arms were locked around hers like a vise.
When he pushed the door open and the night air washed across Tristan, she knew she couldn’t go down without fighting. If he was going to hurt her, then she’d cause him the same amount of pain. She wouldn’t be a weakness. She wouldn’t be his victim.
The back door had led them to the side of the club, a dark alley that held ominous shadows. Once the door was shut behind them, he kept a firm, painful grip around her and started walking toward the front of the club with long, purposeful strides. He made no motion to stop and stay concealed in the shadows, and it was then, as he walked toward the streetlights, that she knew the violence wouldn’t end here.
No. She would not be a victim again. She would be a fighter.
25
“Max.” His name was a whisper from Tristan’s lips, but she knew he heard her nonetheless. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “I won’t fight you.” Her heart was thundering. Not fighting him, making it seem like she was willing, might backfire. He might like her going against him. It might turn him on more. But she had to try because right now her fate was sealed if she didn’t do something.
He stared at her for a long moment.
“Please. I’ll go with you willingly, do whatever you want.” She saw his brows rise at that last part and felt her skin tighten in unease.
“Oh, I know you’ll do whatever I want because you have no choice.” He turned fully around and pressed his body to hers, moving her back toward the brick wall. “When I’ve had enough of you, then I’ll let you go. Until then,” he said and grinned. “Until then you’ll be my little slut.” He pressed his erection into her belly, and she held down her gag reflex.
“You won’t get away with this.”
He laughed. “I already have.” He sneered and came in close, so close she could smell the putrid stench of whiskey on his breath. “It took a long fucking time for my body to heal after what he did. You can’t imagine my surprise when I knew who he was.” He grinned, and even in the darkness she could see all the malicious intent in his expression. “You must not know Kash Alexander that well. His reputation far surpasses my own. You’re the last thing he gives a shit about. He gets off on beating people.” He pressed his lips to the side of her face, right by her ear. She knew what Max said wasn’t the truth. She knew how Kash felt about her, how he looked at her, touched her. He might have his demons, but together they were whole, together they were right. She just needed to show Kash that she wouldn’t leave him, that she was in this with him. Always.
Even among the darkness facing her, she thought about Kash, about how she felt about him, what she wanted with him.
She loved him.
He gripped her chin roughly. “If you think he’ll come for you, you’re going to be disappointed. You’re nothing but a warm hole to him.”
Lies.
It was all lies to bring her down further, to let the darkness consume her.
Not thinking, just acting on pure survival, Tristan brought her knee up and connected with his balls as hard as she could. Everything was quiet for a suspended moment, time seeming to stand still. She wondered if she’d just imagined doing it, but then his howl of pain coursed through the air.
He let go of her and cupped himself. Max doubled over, small grunts coming from him. She took off running toward the streetlights, knowing she would be far safer in the light than the shadows with that psychopath.
The heels had been a poor mistake, but then again being attacked by a maniac wasn’t something she’d anticipated. The closer she got to the opening and the light, the more she became optimistic. So close. She was so close to freedom. There was no looking back, no glancing over her shoulder to see if he was still hunched over in pain. Those actions got a person killed.
She screamed as loud as she could, yelled until her throat felt raw and there was no more air in her lungs. It was like a dream, one where she was running and running, trying to get away but making absolutely no fucking progress. Just as she would have broken into the light, Max gripped her hair, yanking her back hard.
When she met the ground, the wind was knocked out of her. Pain exploded in her head as her skull hit the asphalt. Blood covered her tongue, and she choked on it as it slid down her throat.
“You must be a glutton for pain, a masochist.” He brought his face right in front of hers and ran his tongue up the side of her cheek. “But that’s okay because I’m a fucking sadist.” His hands smoothed over her hair, an act she might have found comforting if the devil hadn’t been doing it. “Do you know I’ve been watching you, waiting until I could have you all to myself?” His groan was like a hot poker against her flesh. “I’ve seen you through your window, seen you do naughty little things only a whore would do.”
“You sick motherfucker.” Tears tracked down her face, and a whimper escaped.
“Shh, don’t cry. I haven’t given you anything to cry about yet.” His fingers pinched her chin until she was staring up at him. He pressed his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Believe me, I have ways to make sure no one finds you until I want them to. Now be a good girl and tell me how much you want me.”
She had hoped someone had seen him taking her away, but with each passing moment she knew no one was coming. She was at the mercy of a psychopath. He stared down at her and grinned. He might have her, but he would never have her. “Fuck. You.” She spit in his face. A wave of pleasure coursed through her as she watched his cheek become covered in blood and saliva. He would not break her.
Max raised his body so he was several inches from her, reared back his arm, and she closed her eyes, knowing a hit was about to come. How beaten and broken would she be after all of this? Would he even let her live? She waited and waited for the inevitable pain to come, but when it didn’t, she opened her eyes. Max was staring at something over her head, squinting into the darkness to see whatever was cloaked there.
“Please,” she whispered, hoping against all odds that whoever was there would hear, would help.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll turn around and get the fuck out of here.” The shadows concealed whoever was there.
And then everything happened in a blur of action. A huge body tackled Max to the ground. Tristan sucked in a lungful of air now that his body wasn’t by hers any longer. Male grunts sounded in the darkness, and she sat up, cradling her head as pain lanced through her skull. Another grunt, then another sounded from the shadows, and her heart raced. It was too dark in this alley for her to see who Max fought with.
But before she could react, a large figure emerged from the darkness. Tristan’s heart beat a rapid staccato when she saw it was Kash.
“Baby,” he said in a deep, broken voice.
A whimper escaped her, and then she heard his voice.
“Tristan. Baby.”
The light that spilled from the parking lot slashed across his face. She could see fresh and dried blood covering him. He knelt in front of her, not moving to touch her right away, but a look of concern was evident on his face.
They stayed like that for several moments, just staring at each other. He was bloody and swollen, but he was whole. She threw herself into his arms and buried her face in his chest, crying hard, racking sobs.
“You’re here. Oh God, you’re really here.” The tears came fast and strong, but she didn’t care. For once they weren’t tears of anger, pain, or fear. The happiness and love she felt for him was tangible. It felt like it would burst free from her and suffocate everything and everyone.
“God, Tristan, baby.” He held her tight and didn’t pull away until she had stopped crying. It was then, when her sobs didn’t echo off the alleyway, that she was aware of the other noises. A police siren in the background came through loud
, and then red-and-blue lights made the once-bleak alley colorful.
Kash pulled back but kept her body tight against his. He scanned her face, and she saw a million emotions reflected back. “That fucker,” he said low, menacingly as he stared at the side of her face. Her head throbbed so she could only assume what her face looked like. He breathed out and wrapped his arms around her and brought her head to his chest.
“How did you know where I was?”
“I searched for you after the fight, and when I couldn’t find you, fear overrode everything else.” Shouting erupted all around her. There were orders filled with authority, lights seeming even brighter now, but still Kash held her, made her feel safe.
“I didn’t think you would find me. I thought—”
“Shh, don’t even think that.” He pulled her back. “Not find you?” He shook his head slowly. “I told you I’d always come for you.” Both of his hands came up to rest on her cheeks, and she winced as he touched a sensitive spot. She could see how tense his jaw had become and the way his gaze seemed to darken as he looked at the area where Max had hit her. When his gaze came back to hers, they stared at each other for several long moments. “There isn’t anything in this world that could keep me from you. Nothing.” He sounded so sure. It made her feel safe, protected, and most of all loved. He brought his lips to hers and kissed her, mindful of her abraded flesh. “I love you,” he murmured against her mouth, and she broke down crying again.
He whispered those three words over and over again as he kissed every inch of her face. His body was rock-hard as he held her, his anger still tangible. It was at that moment, with the sounds of violence behind them and the way he held her, that Tristan knew there was nothing in this world that wasn’t worth fighting for.
It seemed like hours before the police and paramedics allowed them to leave. Her mouth was dry from explaining the night’s events to three different officers, and her body was becoming sorer with each passing moment. She was exhausted, and all she wanted to do was go home and sleep off this horrendous night.
Kash wrapped his arms around her, holding her, keeping her close. She could tell this was for him as much as it was for her.
* * *
Kash had his hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, so forcefully he thought for sure his skin would peel away from his knuckles. All he kept seeing in his mind was Tristan on the dirty ground, Max leering over her, his insidious comments echoing off the alley. The raw fury he felt at that moment, at the sight of the woman he loved, had consumed him.
Never had he wanted to cause so much bodily harm to someone, not even when he was within the cage. If Adrian hadn’t stopped him when he did, Kash would have watched Max take his last breath, and relished the fact.
Tristan was his, and anyone who thought they could hurt her, touch her, would feel his wrath. He didn’t want to be an overbearing motherfucker where she was concerned, but she was the most precious thing to him, and the very thought of her hurting had this rage building within him so fiercely he wanted blood on his hands.
He glanced to the side and saw Tristan’s eyes start to close. The glow from the dash cast shadows and light along her curled-up body. She was pressed to the side of the passenger door, her body seeming so frail in comparison to everything around her. He wanted nothing more than to pull her close to him, wrap his arm around her shoulder, and tell her everything would be okay.
Because it would be. He’d make sure of it.
The weariness from tonight was taking its toll on her. She was so unbelievably strong, and he was so damn proud of her. He slid his hand on top of hers, which rested on her thigh, needing to touch her, to know that she was really there, with him. He didn’t even want to contemplate her not in his life, not now, not ever.
He had been a fool to try and keep her away, but now that he had her, he had no intentions of letting her go.
26
The water from the shower moved down Tristan’s sore body, and she closed her eyes in pleasure and pain. The heat and steady pulse of the droplets stung her abraded flesh, but Kash’s hands on her, soothing her sore muscles and battered frame, brought immense comfort.
Kash had insisted she go to the hospital, even after the paramedics had checked her out, but she didn’t want to. All she’d wanted to do was go home and be with Kash. She didn’t need some peroxide and a bandage. She didn’t want to have to answer the barrage of questions that would surely be slung at her.
What she needed was what she was getting right now. Kash’s hard body pressed behind her, his strong, gentle hands smoothing over her and erasing the night she’d had. This wasn’t about sexual gratification.
He was taking care of her.
Her gaze landed on her arm, where she saw a handprint-sized bruise already forming. Kash leaned down to kiss it. Goose bumps formed along her skin, and she sighed and let her body lean against his, using his strength the way she desperately needed to.
His soapy hands moved down her arms, her chest, her belly, and continued their journey down her thighs. As the water washed the bubbly remnants away, she turned and rested her head on his chest. His skin was smooth and warm, and his heartbeat was exactly what she needed to hear at that moment.
“I could have killed him, Tristan. I would have.” Kash’s words were low and menacing as he spoke of Max. He’d told her if Adrian hadn’t been there, keeping him back, he would have done just that. It was the threat of never seeing her again, of not being there to protect her and love her that had stopped him.
She’d been surprised to find out that the waitress, a young girl named Brea, the same girl Tristan had helped, had seen Max leading her away out the back door. If not for Brea, Tristan didn’t know where she’d be right now, if she’d even be alive.
Things worked out for a reason, Tristan amended. If she hadn’t helped that young girl out, Brea wouldn’t have escaped and seen Max taking her away.
“I’m glad you stopped so we could be here, right now.”
She thought about what had happened afterward, how everything had been a blur of action. The police had hauled Max away. With the charges brought against him, there was no doubt he’d be locked up for a good long time.
Tristan turned around and looked at Kash. With him by her side, she could get through anything. His wall had finally come down, and there was nothing greater in life than knowing the man she loved was with her.
She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest, closing her eyes and relaxing. He just let her hold him. “I love you.” The sound of the water beating against the tiles didn’t drown out the emotion in her voice.
“I love you, too.” His arms tightened around her. “I don’t know how to be a good man. I don’t know how to be good enough for you, Tristan, but I’ll try. I’ll keep trying until the day I die.”
He had already proved what a good man he was, but hearing him say it with so much love and determination had her thanking whoever was listening that things worked out the way they did.
Epilogue
Six months later
His heart was thundering, the nerves making him feel off-balance. Kash had never felt this way before, had never felt like he was standing on a tightrope about to plummet to the bottom. He didn’t get nervous or anxious, wasn’t frightened. But when it came to Tristan and what he was about to do, he felt like he was in someone else’s body.
He held the small black box in his hand, his fingers crossed tightly around it. It had been nearly a year since he’d moved in with Tristan, since he realized that she was the other half to his heart. She made that darkness go away, brought light into his world. He might always still be rough around the edges, but she was the only thing that could help us smooth him out.
She was the only one who understood him fully, accepted him wholly.
He heard her car pull into the driveway, and his heart sped up. Standing, he held the box tightly in his hand, shielding it. Then the sound of her car door opening and c
losing pierced his foggy brain. A moment later he heard her enter the house. Kash swallowed a lump in his throat and took a steadying, deep breath.
He could do this. He loved Tristan more than anything else, and not having her in his life was not an option. Although he didn’t need a ring or marriage to keep her as his, he wanted it official.
“I’m home,” she called out from the foyer and a second later walked into the living room, a smile on her face. “Hey,” she said when she saw him.
I can do this. I have to do this.
“Tristan, baby,” he said and took a step closer to her. She set her bag on the ground, her smile faltering slightly.
“What’s going on?” She moved in close to him, only a few feet away now.
Before he could chicken out—like hell he would—he got down on one knee in front of her and produced the ring.
“Tristan, you’re my world, my life. Everything I do now is because of you, for you.” His throat was tight. “I wanted to do this that night I had you in the shower, as your body shook against mine, as you gave me your strength. Six months ago I wanted you to be my wife, but I wanted to make sure you’d actually say yes.”
She laughed softly, her hand covering her mouth.
“I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything else on this planet. There’s nothing more important to me than you, Tristan, than the life we could have, than the family we can create.”
* * *
A proposal.
Tristan couldn’t believe Kash was proposing to her, wanting to spend the rest of his life with her. She loved him, wanted to spend her life with him, but he was a hardened fighter and she hadn’t thought this day would ever come. She hadn’t known if he’d ever be able to commit like he was right now.
And she’d been okay with that, accepted it because she knew he loved her as much as she loved him.