by P. Jameson
But he would if she told him to. And that was why she trusted him. Why she… cared for him. Loved him?
“Don’t want you to stop,” she breathed against his cheek, and he moved faster at her words.
“You say the sweetest… fucking… things,” he grunted with each push.
And the farther they went, the more patched up her past became. Until it felt like a bad memory. One she could turn her back on, and forget as she moved forward.
There was hope. Maybe it was silly, but with every reminder of their physical connection, Bastian and his cruel ways faded to the background. And in his place, was the reality that she could make something beautiful of her stolen life. Starting now. All she had to do was try. Fight back against the ones who wanted to hurt her. Cling to the ones who didn’t. And face her fears like Ratchet showed her.
“More,” she whispered, digging her nails into his shoulder, and throwing her head back to feel his mouth on her neck.
“Fucking beautiful, Marlee,” he murmured, measured thrusts pushing her forward. “That’s what you are. So damn beautiful like this.”
Another drag and push of his body in hers was all she could take. She cried out as pleasure wracked her body making every nerve ending vibrate. She was shaking apart from the inside and Ratchet didn’t stop. Didn’t rush. He kept his slow pace dragging out every wicked sensation, making her feel like this orgasm would never end.
And then with a satisfied growl, she felt him explode, hot jets pumping inside her. Emotions battered her, so many she couldn’t sort them out. But the strongest of them was… good.
This was what feeling good—truly good—was like. And Ratchet had given it to her.
Somehow, she was going to pay him back for it.
This time, not because she owed anyone. But because she wanted to.
Because she was choosing to.
Her choice. For the first time ever.
Chapter Sixteen
Ratchet lifted his mate from the counter and walked with her to the bed. He was still inside her, still connected and desperately didn’t want to leave her warmth. What if this was it. What if this was the only time he’d feel her like this.
She was limp against him, her head tucked into his neck where she breathed hard trying to recover.
Shit.
He was shaking to pieces inside. What had he just done? How much damage. He’d been careful, hadn’t he? Careful enough? He didn’t know.
He’d put her in bed and find out. Check her over. Every inch. Look into her eyes and make sure their bond was still intact.
Mine, mine, mine, the beast roared.
The thing was angry he hadn’t claimed Marlee. Marked her. But there was no way to do that without the animal part of him fully intact. No claw to pierce her skin. No scent marker to give her.
And still, he wouldn’t have done it until he was sure she was ready for him. Her choice. He would never force anything on her like his father had his mother.
Gooood. Keep mate safe. Especially her heart.
The beast settled, and Ratchet set Marlee on the bed, slipping free of her body. She rolled onto her side, tucking her face into her hands.
Fuck.
Was she crying?
He stood frozen beside the bed, unable to move as that fear washed over him. The fear he felt in the shed. Fear of hurting her.
“Lamb,” he croaked. Please… shit.
She shifted, moving her hands enough to peek through her fingers. But he didn’t see any tears.
She moved her hands more to reveal a smile like nothing he’d ever seen.
She was smiling. Grinning ear to fucking ear. Teeth showing. Eyes glowing. She was shining like a goddamn angel or something. So pretty when she was happy.
Happy. He’d made his Marlee happy.
Fuck him.
His breath rushed out as relief slammed his chest.
“You smiling?” He crawled up the bed to her.
“Think so,” she said, but the grin didn’t fade.
It was still there.
He was going to kiss it.
He pounced on her, straddling her waist and pressing his mouth to her lips. A bit harder than he had the first time. He was going to kiss her everyday, as many times as he could get away with.
But she didn’t stop smiling. Even better, a laugh bubbled up and he pulled back to watch her. Inside, his beast purred his approval. Claiming would come later. If he could make his lamb do this, he could do anything. He was feeling invincible, pride wanting to burst out of his chest.
Her hand came up to touch his face, her fingers tracing his lips, his forehead, the scruff of his cheeks.
“No scowl,” she murmured, eyes still twinkling. “No snarl.”
He shook his head, soaking in every bit of her expression. He wanted this marked in his mind forever, the way she looked right now.
“No fear,” he whispered, tracing her smile with the tip of his finger. “No sadness.”
“I liked that almost as good as pinky holding.”
Bullshit. She liked it better. “Pinky holding didn’t make you smile.”
“Okay, fine. This was better than pinky holding. But… did you? Like it?”
He rolled to the side, pulling her with him, crushing her against his chest and then easing up when she winced.
Careful. Still must be careful.
“Like it? No, lamb. I didn’t like it. There’s no word for what this was to me. I… shit, I… woman, I want to keep you. Understand?”
Her thin arm squeezed his waist, her head nestling into his chest.
“Wanna keep you, Marlee,” he repeated quieter. “Lost everything I didn’t hide. Every treasure was a vulnerability. Clan found it, clan destroyed it. And now I want to keep you more than any of those.”
He couldn’t see her face, but he knew her smile was fading away.
“I’m not trying to leave.”
It relieved him. It bothered him.
“You should be. They almost found you today.”
“You wouldn’t let them hurt me.”
That familiar fire rose in his chest at just the idea.
“I would have tried. But I’m not sure I could have stopped them. And Marlee… they would hurt you to get to the other dolls. Without hesitation, they would have.”
She stiffened. “What do they want with them?”
“The same thing I want with you.”
“Softness to ease the hard things done to you? Someone to look after. Someone to talk to at night when you come home from work. Someone to make the bad things seem less bad. To make the future seem brighter?”
“Yes,” he rasped. “And more.”
“What more?”
“They want to fall in love.”
Marlee went quiet. Ratchet reached for her hand, looping his pinky around hers.
“Why would they want that? Isn’t it a vulnerability?”
“Not for my people. It will fix what’s broken inside us.”
“Your animal.”
He stared down at her. How to explain this…
“The dark parts inside, you think finding love will fix you.”
He nodded. That was the simple version.
“What happens when the girls are free and they don’t want to be here?”
Was she asking for herself? Did she want to leave still? He wanted to make her free, give her everything, but he couldn’t. She was hiding in his tiny room with only the roof for freedom at night.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. He couldn’t guess what Skittles and Monster would do with their females. “But I know they won’t hurt them. If there was ever a question, I wouldn’t let them anywhere near your people.”
“How do you know?”
“Because…” He kissed her hair, whispering the rest to her. “You being hurt scared me more than anything had in a long, long time. And it took me fucking three seconds to realize that.”
She shivered, pressing in tighter.
&nb
sp; “I see the way Skittles carries that picture around. Like it’s his girl and not just a piece of paper. He feels it. He won’t hurt her.”
Silence fell over them, and he focused on her breathing. Normal. Easy. She wasn’t scared.
“I think they would choose this,” she said eventually. “If given the choice to be Bastian’s dolls or be here… even locked away… I think they’d choose this. Because I would. I have.”
Instinct pushed him to do better for her. To make her happy all the time, instead of just a few minutes of the day.
“You won’t always be locked away,” he promised. “I’ll find a way, lamb. You’ll see.”
He only needed the firecat, then he’d give her the entire world.
***
Leah froze just inside her office. The walls were feather-thin and Felix was in the one next door. His booming voice wasn’t as strong as it could be, but it was loud enough for her to hear everything he was saying even with the doors closed.
“You telling me you lost one of your girls? Is that what you’re saying. Because who gives a fuck, Bastian. Just go out and find another one. Shit. Why are you bothering me with this?”
The clock on the wall ticked off the seconds while she held her breath, not wanting to miss a detail of this conversation.
Because her gut was telling her this was trouble.
“No, I ain’t seen her. And I’m not in the business of hunting, okay? Trash. I take out the fucking trash. You got a body you need disposed of? That’s what my guys do. What we don’t do is recovery missions. Especially when she’s been missing two weeks. Damn, she’s probably long gone by now. Cut your losses.”
Bastian was looking for a woman who went missing around the time Marlee showed up.
Shit. Was that sweet broken girl Bastian’s?
Her stomach took a floor dive.
“What the hell, asshole.,” Felix continued. “You know I don’t kill females.”
That was mostly true. At least it was true for his reign as Alley Cat leader.
“If you want her dead, go ask the dogs. Though, I bet they’ll tell you the same thing. This is stupid. So she turns up at a PD somewhere. You got enough of them under your thumb for a cover up.”
If Marlee was who Bastian was looking for, she was in trouble. Major trouble. She needed to get out of Memphis.
“Don’t throw money at me, dickwad,” Felix fumed. “I don’t need it.”
But the clan did. And whatever faults Felix had, he took his job looking out for his people seriously.
“How much?” Felix’s voice was dark and angry. He hacked out a vicious cough they were all becoming familiar with. Leah wondered how much longer he could make it without his animal.
“Motherfucker.”
Chills ran down her spine. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
You didn’t mess with the Lord of Memphis. Not unless you wanted to be dead.
She pressed her lips together to stifle a sob.
Thomas. Her boy could end up dead over this.
“Fine. Shit, fine. Okay? I’ll hunt her down. For every penny of that. But I’m not killing her. You’ll have to find someone else to do that.”
He slammed down the phone making Leah jump at the sound. One, two, three…
Since the beginning when she first fell in with the Alley Cats, one rule kept her going. Made her move forward when she wanted to cower. It was the rule that had kept her alive. Kept her son alive, and it would do the same thing now.
She gave herself three breaths to be scared. Three breaths to feel the terror this life inflicted at any given time.
Three breaths only.
And then she did whatever she needed to, to keep the one who mattered safe.
Thomas. He was all she had, and all that mattered.
That meant Marlee had to go. Not just away. But back to Bastian.
She pressed her palms into the desk leaning forward to force blood to her head. Deep breaths. No tears.
Damn it. She didn’t hurt females, she saved them. So many of them.
Her stomach twisted. This wouldn’t end well. Not for her, not for Marlee. But Thomas would be alive. Bastian wouldn’t kill him for taking his property.
Shit. Property. Women weren’t property.
Everything she’d worked to protect for so many years… she was about to throw it all away with this betrayal.
How would she live with herself? How could she ever look at her son again?
Her gut clenched and she dove for the trashcan, heaving until her stomach was empty.
Boots thumped across the floor, stopping just beside her.
“Mama Kitty?” It was Skittles. “You okay?”
Her gaze followed his legs up, past his leather vest, the bright colored tattoos covering his arms and neck to find his scowling face. Skittles was the heart of the clan. He just didn’t know it yet.
And if he didn’t know it… she could use him.
No! Shit. Don’t do it.
She had no animal, no werecat, to guide her. She only had her conscience. And it wouldn’t recover from this decision.
Leah battled back her tears, tipped her chin forward.
For Thomas.
“I need you to do something for me,” she choked.
He squatted beside her, hands hanging over his knees. “What do you need, Mama?”
As if in slow motion, a slip of paper fluttered from his vest to the concrete floor. She reached for it, and he stiffened. It was a photo. Four unsmiling females in a dim room.
“What’s this?”
He shrugged, pulling it from her hand. “Just something I found in the shed.”
“The shed?”
Where Marlee was.
He nodded.
The dolls, Marlee called them. Her captor had five dolls. This picture was Marlee’s. It meant Skittles was onto her. And it meant Bastian was one good luck move away from finding her here. And finding out one of his own had betrayed him.
Thomas was about to be exposed.
They had to move fast.
Chapter Seventeen
Marlee pressed up on her tiptoes to kiss Ratchet. He liked making her work for it, but he could only hold off a second or two before he took over. It made her grin. She liked him desperate for her.
He wrapped his thick arm around her waist, one hand threading into her hair to hold her for his lips.
Like she’d pull away now.
She’d been waiting for him to get home all day. Waiting to see if his kiss was as amazing as she remembered from the night before.
It was. Maybe even more so.
He lapped at her, still so careful. Still holding back.
Burying his face in her neck, he breathed deep. “Fucking missed you, lamb.”
She clung to his neck, breathing in his fresh scent mixed with the ash she always smelled after he got off work.
“Looks like you missed me too,” he whispered when she didn’t want to let go.
Whatever. She didn’t like being alone, so him coming back was like a freaking Christmas present every time.
Speaking of presents.
She leaned away. “What did you bring me?”
His eyes twinkled even with his scowl in place and the sexy twist of his lips. “Nothing good enough for you today. But I have a different surprise for you.”
He took her pinky and pulled her toward the closet. From the top shelf, he pulled a black laptop computer. He set it on the dresser and plugged it in, opened the lid, and booted it up.
"What are we doing?" she asked.
"We're going to see what happened to your father?"
"Why?"
"Because I want to kill him for what he put you through."
His blunt words pulled a gasp from her. He couldn't be serious. Or maybe he was. She knew his clan was fierce. Otherwise why would Bastian depend on them for bad things.
Either way, it didn't much matter.
"I already know what happened to him."
/> She told him how her father died. How Bastian showed her the newspaper article, with pictures of the knife.
"Oh." Ratchet frowned, looking even more bothered.
"Are you disappointed?"
"Yes. I wanted to be the one to kill him."
She shoved his shoulder gently, murmuring, "You can't just go around killing people."
"I can if they hurt you." He said it like it was law. If a person hurts someone you care for, you have the right to end their life.
"It's kind of against the law," she reminded.
He shrugged like he didn't see the problem. But she needed him to. Bastian might deserve to die, but when they went to save the others, she couldn't have Ratchet going to jail and leaving her to deal with his crew alone. She didn’t trust Skittles or Monster or anyone but him.
"No killing people, Ratchet," she tried, unable to keep her voice from shaking. Not exactly the authoritative tone she’d hoped for.
She wasn't his boss, but he seemed to listen to her. When he asked her opinion, and she gave it, it meant something. Just like her no had that first night on the roof. He considered her feelings.
But he seemed troubled by her demand.
"Mate, we will negotiate on this."
Okay. She jutted her chin. She didn't know how to negotiate with a man like Ratchet, but she'd stepped up. So it was either back down or keep going.
"No killing people who are nice to you." He seemed satisfied with his amendment.
Marlee shook her head. Was she really doing this? Standing up to this big bad man... who was not so big and bad with her?
It made her feel... powerful.
That was the thing about him. He never let her feel weak.
"Fine." He frowned. "No killing people who are nice to you and who don't hurt you... from now on out."
"Meaning, you can kill people who have hurt me in the past?"
He dipped his head in a nod, his hair casting shadows over his cheeks to make him look brutal. Like when he found her in the shed.
But he wasn't brutal, was he.
No. He was.
He was exactly the kind of brutal she needed. A warrior. Who would stand and fight for her, be her shield, be her conqueror. Because she'd been in the fiercest battle for most of her life, and she'd been standing alone.