Perfect Ruin (Unyielding #2)

by Nashoda Rose

Raven’s safe place was on her knees.

  Now I was going to re-write that.

  She watched me. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands wrung together. It was always better when interrogating someone for them to see your torture devices. Let the fear build as your hand hovered over each one, hear their breath quicken while waiting to see which one you’d pick up first.

  Of course, this wasn’t about torture. Same idea, I had to break her, but with other techniques where she was punished for being Raven.

  I could coddle her, wrap her up in my arms and hope she’d find her way back, but I didn’t coddle and London was a fighter. I just had to find the trigger to make her fight.

  Bottom line, I needed her to get pissed off.

  I dumped the bag of ice into the tub and the cubes clinked against the porcelain. I stuck my hand in—yeah, that was fuckin’ cold. I’d been in worse.

  I’d been chasing a car when it skidded off a bridge into a lake and crashed through the ice. I had to go in after the driver. Not to save him… well, I’d saved him. But after getting the info I needed, I killed him. Bastard was dirty as they came and he was the type of man I took great joy in ending his life.

  “Come here,” I said without looking over at her.

  She stood beside me and there was a twinge of guilt when she started trembling.

  “You know why?”

  She nodded. “I broke a rule.”

  “Yes. And why do you think I have that rule?” This would be a hard one for her to wrap her head around. She probably had no idea why, but I expected an answer and wanted to hear what she came up with.

  I watched her swallow and I swear I could hear her heart rate pick up. Good. A reaction. “You don’t like me on my knees?”

  “True. Why else?”

  Her eyes darted to me, wide and scared. Come on, London. Be defiant. Say it. But when her shoulders sagged I knew I wasn’t getting the answer I wanted.

  “I don’t know why.”

  I grabbed her chin and forced her to look at me, fingers digging harshly into her skin. “Because you never submit to anyone. Never. You can play. Pretend with someone you trust, but you don’t trust me and we’re not playing. Did you trust him? Was it all a game with Alfonzo and Jacob?”

  Her eyes widened with horror. “No. I… I had to.”

  She had to. I knew she did. She probably fought like hell at first, that stubbornness causing a lot more pain than most of those girls would endure.

  “Yes. But you also submitted to everything.” I lightened my hold and stroked my thumb back and forth over the reddened skin. “Submit your body when you have no choice, but protect your mind, London. Never let them have it and right now, they have it.”

  Tears filled the rims of her eyes, but I didn’t want the tears. I wanted the flash of anger.

  “In.” I nodded to the tub.

  She hesitated and I let her. Fuck, I wanted her to hesitate. I would’ve been ecstatic if she told me to go fuck myself and hit me.

  She didn’t and I sighed as she undressed then stepped into the tub. I heard her gasp and her gaze went to mine as I leaned back against the bathroom counter and watched.

  Hoping. False hope. Something I knew better than to have.

  She was too fuckin’ skinny. I could see her hip bones and her ribs, and her breasts were smaller. When my eyes finished roaming the length of her body and met with hers again, I almost… almost told her to get the fuck out.

  But that was up to her. She may know little about me, but she had been intimate with me. She knew enough that all she had to do was tell me. I taught her that lesson and I wanted her to search her mind and remember. Find those words and tell me she didn’t want to do this.

  That was all it took.

  Her lips parted and she inhaled. I swore she was going to say the words, but instead, she lowered into the frigid water. I dropped my head forward and closed my eyes.

  Fuck.

  She started hyperventilating, breathing fast and uncontrollably. A body’s shock reaction to the sudden cold. I anticipated this and within minutes, it would go away and she’d be able to withstand the temperature for ten to twenty minutes before hypothermia set in. When her muscles weakened, that was when I’d have to get her out of there.

  But what I wanted was her to break before then.

  My skin crawled and the tension in my chest was so tight breathing became painful. Because watching her was painful. Listening to the ice clink against the sides of the tub was painful. I’d never had this reaction before. Immune to hearing the screams, witnessing torture, death, blood.

  But it took everything I had to remain where I was and not drag her the fuck out of there.

  She had her legs scrunched up to her chest, arms wrapped around them, her chin resting on her knees that were above the water level. Her nipples were erect, or at least the one I could see, as the waterline sloshed lightly against her breasts as I’d only filled the tub halfway.

  Her teeth chattered and she tried to stop the shivering but couldn’t, which made the water slosh back and forth more.

  “What did they do to you, Raven?” I didn’t need to know, but she needed to tell me.

  She raised her head and looked at me. “Everything.”

  Yeah, I had a pretty good idea. “Specifics, please.”

  Oh, she didn’t like that by the way her back stiffened and I inwardly smiled.

  “Alfonzo liked sex.”

  I tensed, knowing what I’d hear, prepared for it. At least, I thought I was. “Did you like it?”

  She gasped and her lips pursed together. “No.”

  “But you let him anyway.” I crossed my arms and raised my brows. “You had no choice?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “Why?”

  “I was tied up.”

  That was info I’d use later. “Are you tied up now?”

  “Umm.” I scowled at the word and there was a flicker of something in her eyes. She remembered. I knew she did. That day I told her that umm didn’t suit her. “No.”

  “So, you enjoy the cold water?”

  That pissed her off as her spine straightened and despite her chattering teeth, she raised her voice. “You told me to get in the tub.”

  I shrugged. “True. I did. But if you recall, I once told you to tell me if you didn’t want to do something.”

  Her expression changed from anger to contemplation. Good, I wanted her to think things through. She’d been on auto-pilot for years. She had to flip the switch and take control.

  “Can I… get out?”

  Finally. That took about three minutes, not bad. I reached for a towel off the rail. She stood and swayed a bit. I quickly stepped over to her, put my hands under her armpits then lifted her out of the tub. I wrapped the towel snug around her shivering body.

  After rubbing her down vigorously, I passed her another towel and tucked it in around her. “Get dressed and come out to the living room.” I started to leave the bathroom, when her soft voice stopped me.

  “I remember.”

  I put my hand on the doorframe, fingers splintering the wood as my casual manner dissipated. The need to say fuck it and hold her in my arms and tell her it would be all right.

  But I couldn’t.

  I slid my hand down the smooth surface of the doorframe, one I’d put up myself. Every inch of this place was done with my own hands. Took me ten years. Georgie and Tanner thought I went on missions when I disappeared, and I did, but I also came here.

  I’d slept in a shed out back for the first five years while I built it. The land legally belonged to Ernie as I put it in his name, and since there were over a hundred acres, I offered him a piece of it. He declined, said he’d rather hear the sounds of the city than the chirping of birds in the country.

  Regardless of how careful I’d been though, nothing stayed hidden for long and I was treading dangerous waters with London being with me.

  Hands and Knees

  THREE WEEKS AN
D we were making tortoise-pace progress. Raven, and she was still fuckin’ Raven, followed the rules so well that it pissed me off because I wanted her to break them. The worst was, she slept beside me and when she thrashed from whatever fucked with her head, I had to hold her and holding her made me think of London.

  I was pretty certain she’d have let me sink inside her, but I never would because of that word—let. She’d let me. I wanted more than let and I wasn’t taking it until she gave me more than that.

  I could be a bastard and cruel when it came to getting what I wanted from my targets, but I didn’t fuck chicks who spread their legs because they were forced to. A man who forced a girl was weak and pathetic. I was neither. I also refused to fuck a girl who got paid for it, whether that was their choice or not.

  I got hard seeing the desire in a woman’s eyes, feeling their pussy clench, hearing their need with their cries, their panting. I wanted them to beg me to give it to them. My life was filled with pain and deceit, but with sex, I demanded real.

  I rarely slept after she calmed from a nightmare, and that night was no different. I spent the rest of the early morning sanding the hardwood floors in the spare bedroom.

  That was where she found me the next morning.

  Ironic that I was the one on my knees.

  I tossed the sanding pad aside.

  The look on her face was shock when she saw me and it was rather amusing. I pulled down the light blue mask covering my mouth and nose, sat back on my ass, bent my knees and rested my arms over them as I looked at her standing in the doorway. Dust particles fell from the strands of my hair and covered my jeans. A bead of sweat trailed down the side of my face and across my brow. I ran the back of my arm across my forehead.

  “You need something?”

  She shook her head and her eyes roamed over the newly sanded surface. I’d found an old abandoned barn and ripped out the floor boards and brought them here. They needed a lot of work, but there was nothing like century-old hardwood. I didn’t do fake with sex or when it came to building my house.

  She bit her lip and then to my surprise, she asked, “Can I help?”

  Interesting. “Eat yet?”

  “No.”

  “Go eat then, yeah, you can help.”

  There. Right fuckin’ there. A twitch at the corner of her mouth. She probably didn’t even realize she’d done it.

  She nodded, left, and I went back to work.

  She was back in ten minutes and I had a sanding pad ready for her. I held it up and she walked over and took it.

  “You can work on this one.” I placed my palm on a wide board. “Ever sand before?”

  “No.”

  I smiled. “Didn’t think so. But you’re a scientist so you’re precise and calculated. That’s what I need here. Sand too much in one spot and we get a dip in the wood. Come here, I’ll show you.” I urged her to kneel beside me and when she hesitated, I realized why. Fuck, right. “You can kneel, London.” Maybe she should’ve figured that out herself by now, but I was feeling generous.

  She kneeled beside me and I curled my fingers around her wrist and placed her palm on the floorboard I’d just finished.

  “This is what you want.” I slowly dragged her palm back and forth over the smooth surface, my arm hovering over hers, bodies moving together in perfect rhythm. “You feel how soft that is? Smooth. Even.”

  “Okay.”

  I released her hand and tapped my hand on the board she was to work on.

  She crawled over to it and started sanding. I watched her for a few minutes, her hair falling forward and skimming the floor as she worked. She put her back into it and fine dust rose around her. I got up, pulled off my mask and walked over to her.

  She stopped, looking up at me. “Am I doing it wrong?”

  I smiled. “No. You’re good with your hands. But I already knew that.” Of course, that had double meaning. She caught it, too, meaning she was letting those memories in.

  I crouched beside her, slipped my mask over her head, and put it up over her mouth and nose. I tucked the elastic strings behind her ears and chuckled when I sat back and looked at her.

  “Cute.” And despite not being able to see her smile, I saw in her that elusive sparkle. I ran my hand over her head, hesitating on the nape of her neck. “Nice to have a piece of you back.”

  I got up and went to the other side of the room, picked up my sanding pad and went back to work.

  Hours slipped by, sweat pouring off my brow and dripping onto the floors leaving a dark stain before disappearing again. I was always aware of everything around me, but I didn’t need to look at London to know she was intent on her work, I heard the rhythmic sanding back and forth.

  “We’ll grab a sandwich.” I threw my sander into the toolbox then lifted my T-shirt and wiped my brow. When I lowered it, she was staring at me, at my abdomen. Her gaze darted to mine and a slight flush crept into her cheeks. “Don’t you dare look down.”

  Her breath hitched and her gaze locked on mine. She was still wearing the mask, but London had everything right in front of me blazing in her eyes.

  I approached and she climbed to her feet, leaving the sanding pad on the floor. When I reached her, I pulled down her mask so it hung around her neck. Her hair had turned a light blonde with all the flecks of dust. She shifted her weight back and I stepped forward so I was in her space. She’d have to stand on her tiptoes and I’d have to bend my neck in order to kiss her. It was something we’d never done. I’d never kissed her.

  “You did good, London.” I wasn’t calling her Raven anymore. She was ready and tonight, I’d push her over the edge. “We’ll finish it tomorrow.”

  She nodded then said, “Can we do this again?”

  “Yeah, baby.” I hadn’t meant to say that yet. Call her baby, but I saw a piece of the girl I knew and it made me slip.

  “This afternoon?”

  Cute. She wanted to sand my floors with me. But I had to talk to Tanner then Chaos and see what progress Chaos made with the guy Vault requested she get close to—Tristan Mason. I still wasn’t sure why they wanted eyes on him, as Tristan was the owner of Mason Developments. Wealthy. Clean. No political ties. He’d never been on the radar before.

  “I have business to deal with this afternoon.”

  “Okay.” Then she tilted her head slightly and asked, “Why by hand? They have sanding machines.”

  And those were the most words I’d heard out of her at once since I brought her home. The rift in my chest began to fill with light. Jesus, light. It had been years of darkness, killing, blood, destruction, and now the light was beginning to flicker again.

  I shrugged. “No reason.”

  “You don’t want to tell me?”

  It was like a cool wash poured over me. Refreshing and energizing.

  London.

  London wouldn’t accept my bullshit answer and I grinned because I’d missed her.

  “I like walking through my house and knowing every inch of it breathes life because of me. I like the control over building it and I liked when I needed to clear my head, I could come here and work on the house.” I ran my hand over my head and flecks of dust rose into the air. “I need to shower and so do you. Go use the one in our room. I’ll use the guest.” I left her standing in the middle of the room, then went and showered.

  I walked out into the kitchen a half hour later wearing a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up twice, and a pair of jeans. It had become a routine in the afternoons for me to work in my office and she’d read, sitting curled up on the couch, which I could see from my desk because I always left the door open. She’d quietly read with the stillness of a praying mantis while blending into her environment. Probably what she’d learned to do with Jacob and Alfonzo. Hide in plain sight.

  I stopped in the archway of the kitchen when I saw her as she reached up in the cupboard and pulled down two glasses. Her hair was damp from the shower and droplets had soaked into the back of the shirt. She was we
aring one of my shirts because I’d only stopped briefly at the store on the way here to grab her a few essentials and some groceries. From mid-thigh down, her legs were bare and even from here I could see the moisture still clinging to her skin. I remember running my hands down her legs, feeling her—

  “Are you okay?” she asked, glancing up at me while she poured two glasses of water.

  Fuck, this was the woman who made death matter to me. “Yeah.” I pushed away from the archway and sauntered into the kitchen. “Grilled cheese sound okay?”

  I opened the fridge and took out a block of cheese and a tomato. She came up beside me and placed the cutting board on the counter. I grabbed a knife from the wood block and sliced while she took out the frying pan and put it on the stove.

  She worked beside me as she buttered the bread. I stopped slicing and raised my brows at that. Her hand stilled with a glob of butter on the end of the knife.

  “Both sides?”

  A flicker of pain crossed her face. “My dad taught me.” It took her a minute before she continued. “He said if you’re going to eat a sandwich with melted cheese, you might as well go all the way.”

  I chuckled as I sliced into the tomato, the juices pooling onto the cutting board. “A lump of cholesterol between two pieces of bread.”

  I caught her subtle smile as she went back to buttering. “My dad? Do you know… how he is?”

  “He’s safe, London.”

  She lowered her eyes from mine. “I didn’t say goodbye.”

  According to Ernie, she’d run away during one of her therapy sessions. She went in and never came out. Ernie asked the receptionist and she said London ran out halfway through the session through the emergency exit.

  “I told him you’re here with me.”

  Her head snapped up. “You did?”

  I had and he also knew if he said anything to anyone, he was sealing his daughter’s fate. And it wasn’t a good fate.

  The corners of my mouth curved up as I said, “Need some brownie points with your father.”

  Her mouth gaped and her eyes widened. Then, she matched my smile with one of her own and I nearly cut off my own fuckin’ finger because I was watching her instead of watching my blade. I was never careless with a knife. Never.