by Nashoda Rose
I felt her eyes on me as I strode into the elevator and pressed the PH button.
Shit, I felt as if a gun was aimed at me from miles away. I followed my instinct, and I’d never had it let me down—until now. Now, it fucked with me because I’d left her in the hospital when I shouldn’t have. I hated the feeling of uncertainty of what the hell was going to happen here with Georgie. I lived by doing and never second-guessing. You’re dead if you second-guess.
Now, we deal.
A motto we lived by when bad shit went down. There was no point wondering what the fuck you should’ve done or could’ve. Bad shit happened. Fucked-up happened. Deal with it and move on.
But suddenly, dealing with whatever was happening with Georgie was not so cut and dry.
I WOKE UP in his bed having slept all day from the sedative. The last I remembered was being held in his arms in the elevator. When I sat up, I saw Deck sitting in the black-leather chair in the corner of the room, a book in hand and one leg casually crossed over the other. He looked completely relaxed and so not like Deck.
He quietly closed the book and set it on the dresser beside him before a creak of leather sounded as he stood. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he strode toward me, stopping when his knees touched the side of the bed. He reached forward and my heart slammed into my chest as he put his hand on my head and smoothed my hair back.
It was the most calming, sweet caress I’d ever experienced, and the heat in my body rose as I took him in. It also scared me as to why he was so calm.
“I’ll make you something to eat while you shower.”
I expected him to pound me with questions. This … this threw me completely off-balance.
There was literally nothing in this world that smelled better than him. It was as if inhaling his scent wrapped my lungs in the comfort of home. I hated that I felt that way, yet after all these years I concluded nothing was changing it.
I loved Deck. Had since I was sixteen and no matter what fucked-up shit was in my head—I always would. But our chance had been destroyed by the fucked-up world we lived in. And yes, by the choices I’d made.
Before he could move away, I grabbed his hand. The coarse feel of his skin sent a wave of desire through me. I needed this connection with him. To feel him. To know he was real, that this was real. Because my life was anything but and suddenly, I needed it to be. “Why do you keep saving me when all I do is disappoint you?”
Deck’s brows lowered and he tried to slip his hand from mine, but I tightened my grip. His scowl intensified. “Georgie. Don’t.” I let his hand go. “Take a shower. Tyler brought over some things for you while you slept. They’re in the bathroom.”
I felt every single word hit me in the heart. It was Deck stomping on my chest with his combat boot and watching as it squished my heart into a pancake. He didn’t even want to touch my hand. Yeah, well, what did I expect?
He walked to the door.
Maybe that was why it was so much easier to be someone I wasn’t. He rejected her, not the real me. I could push it away and drown it out. But now, it was like my two worlds were colliding and I had no escape.
He stopped in the doorway and then without turning said, “No more lies.”
I inhaled sharply and he must have heard me because his shoulders tensed. But he didn’t look at me; instead, he walked away.
THE WARM WATER ran over my skin like a heated silk sheet then pooled at my feet. I leaned up against the tiled wall and closed my eyes, his words repeating over and over in my head.
Telling the truth wasn’t so simple. Never would be and yet …
The bathroom door opened.
I forced myself to remain still as Deck walked in.
I swallowed then licked my lips as my heart began to pound. He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms with his head tilted slightly down as if he were looking at his feet. Unusual for Deck; he met everything head-on without hesitation.
The water hit my breasts and my nipples hardened. Between my legs fluttered with tingles and I knew if I touched myself, I’d feel the slick moisture of what Deck did to me without a single touch.
I did the only thing I was comfortable doing when in a situation which made me uneasy—I used my sass. “You going to stand there or join me?” I was a little surprised that even through the fogged door, I saw his jaw clench.
“You’ve been lying to me.”
I froze for a second, swallowed then picked up the shampoo bottle and pretended to be unconcerned as I squirted the coconut-smelling liquid into my hand. “Jesus, Deck, are you really going to bring this up while I’m in the shower naked with you standing two feet away?”
I closed my eyes and began massaging my head.
The shower door opened and suddenly he was standing a foot away. “What the fuck is going on?”
Now, this was the Deck I expected, yet I was still unprepared, especially naked in the shower with soap all over me. Maybe the sass hadn’t been a good idea.
I was uncertain what he knew, didn’t know what lies he was referring to. There were so many I didn’t even know myself what part of me was the truth and what wasn’t. But revealing any of the truths had consequences—he warned me, and I’d known the rules when it all began. At the time, I never thought Deck was coming back.
His gaze trailed down my naked, glistening body and I felt as if it were his fingertips. Goosebumps bristled and my knees weakened. Our eyes met, and I recognized the desire in the depths of his.
I wanted him so badly it was pathetic, and I hated myself for it. We stared at one another for several seconds; the only sound was the water peppering my flushed skin.
He stepped under the spray and blocked it from hitting me as he came in close, stopping only when his jean-clad thighs brushed against mine. I glanced down at his bare feet and then slowly back up again. He was watching me. And it was taking every part of my strength to deny him.
“Deck …”
“No.” His hands came down on my shoulders and his fingers tightened. I winced under the pressure. “When you open your mouth, I want the words explaining why the fuck you’re not currently shaking and trembling and going through withdrawal.”
Shit. I’d been so freaked out over the purge, then the hospital and the dream that I hadn’t even considered the reality that Deck would realize my drinking had been a lie. I’d thought he’d been referring to the cuts on my body. But after no drinking for over thirty hours … an alcoholic would have withdrawal symptoms, the shakes being one of them.
I opened my mouth to deny, to make up some shit story I knew he’d see right through, but I had nothing. I couldn’t even begin to figure out a story that would remotely explain except for the truth, and I couldn’t give him what he wanted. What I wanted.
He slammed his fist into the tiled wall above my head. The look on his face was one I’d never seen before—ravaged. “Damn it. Talk to me.”
Oh, God. I wanted so desperately to tell him everything. I was cracking and yet I had nothing to give him. I couldn’t. It could kill him, and I’d never take that chance. It was all I had to give him.
Water dripped down his face, clothes soaking-wet, lips tight and yet in his eyes, I saw hurt. He was wounded and that was worse than the disappointment and the anger.
I didn’t care what happened to me; I was past that. What I cared about was the threat to Deck, because it was real. It had been pounded into my head since I was sixteen what would happen if I ever told anyone. Then when Deck came back, it was reiterated specifically for Deck. And he was the one person in this world I knew was capable of killing Deck. “Don’t ask me. Please.”
“Christ.” He pushed off from the wall and turned to leave. I reached for him; I didn’t know why. I should’ve let him go, but I needed him. I always did and now more than ever because I was crumbling. It wasn’t fair what I was doing to him, but I’d found out real young that life wasn’t fair and you had to suck it up and do what needed to be done to keep those you lo
ve safe.
The second my hand curled around his arm, he violently spun around. I thought he was going to push me away from him but instead, he pushed me against the wall then pressed his body hard against mine. His hands locked my wrists on either side of my head on the tiles.
He groaned just before his mouth crushed mine.
It was an assault. It was him wanting to hurt me. It was Deck taking and me submitting. Pain and need. It was being fed after starving for years. My thirst for him was so strong and unable to be quenched. I felt the tears streaming from my eyes as he continued to kiss me, tongue driving into my mouth. No forgiveness. No mercy.
Nothing prepared me for this kiss as he made me his, taking from me every ounce of myself and giving it to him. I sagged into him, my mouth sore and painful at his aggression.
It was what I wanted. What I expected from Deck. And yes, I deserved it to be painful. I wanted it to be painful, so it would make it real.
He abruptly broke away, but his chest remained against mine as we both breathed hard. His grip on my wrists tightened. I panted and stared at him, my vision blurred from the tears and the water that continued to pound into us. I closed my eyes, unable to face him knowing I’d lose the one man I wouldn’t survive without if I told him. But if I didn’t … I’d lose him anyway.
“Look. At. Me.”
I took my time opening my eyes and when I did, more tears escaped, sliding down my cheeks. It was then I saw his shoulders slump and it was like something cracked in him. I didn’t know how I knew, but Deck … I knew Deck, and I saw it with the way the tension around his mouth eased. How his hands uncurled. How his eyes softened as if the dark brown melted to warm milk chocolate.
“Baby, I can’t help you without knowing what’s happening.”
And that did it. A sob escaped and I lowered my head. I never expected his touch as he moved in and took hold of me. The comfort it gave me released the cries. His arms were warm and yet hard as he wrapped me in his cocoon of protectiveness. It became a release of everything.
It was like when I went to the shed and let go of all the emotions, except … there was no cutting. No memories. Just Deck. I felt safe with him, always had. No matter what haunted me, what lies I lived, Deck was my real.
The weight in my chest lifted as he held me and I cried. It wasn’t for me. It was for him and what I was doing to him. I had to protect him. This man who stole my heart at such a young age. But I didn’t know how anymore. I was afraid I couldn’t and that … that terrified me.
There were no words as he cradled me against his chest for a long time, his hand caressing my hair, water beating into his back and making a smacking sound as it soaked his shirt. “I can’t lose you,” I mumbled against him.
His arms tightened and he kept his hand on the back of my head to keep me from looking up at him. He didn’t say anything, and that scared me because Deck would never lie. He was his word. He was the type who would tell a girl she looked like shit if he thought she did.
And I was a complete lie.
Fresh tears spilled, indistinguishable from the water. He pulled back and I caught a glimpse of his face before he turned away. Haunted. Broken. God, was there fear in his eyes? Then that steel shield dropped, he became the Deck I was so familiar with. He was shutting down.
We were a lot alike. I hid behind a false persona, and he blocked his out.
I stood in the shower for a few minutes after he left, the water now cold, but I felt nothing. Nothing except Deck’s mouth still tingling on mine.
I PEELED OFF my wet clothes, tossed them on the bed, and then walked over to my dresser, taking out a fresh t-shirt and pair of jeans. I heard the water shut off and the sink tap turn on.
I sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over, putting my head in my hands. Fuck. I kissed her. I’d held off for ten goddamn years. Ten years. Yet when everything was a complete fuck-fest … I kissed her.
Jesus, everything was in chaos and I hated chaos. I grunted—chaos. Bad choice of words. Fuckin’ Connor. It was killing me not to go after him. He was alive somewhere and yet he didn’t want to be found. Well, he was getting his wish. I had to deal with Georgie; then maybe if I could find a way to keep her safe from Connor’s threat, I’d go after him. Maybe I’d even ask Kai to help. He knew the worst scum in the world and might be an asset.
I’d watched Georgie sleep all day. No shaking. Trembling. Hands steady when she woke. Not one withdrawal symptom. I’d fuckin’ waited for it. I’d called the doctor I used for my men just to be sure because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. She lay peacefully all fuckin’ day.
Georgie should have been a washing machine on spin cycle having not had a drink. There was no opportunity for her to have any, so that meant …
The relief she wasn’t an alcoholic was overwhelming. But then … then the crushing reality of what that meant sank in. The confusion as to why she’d pretend to be an alcoholic. The hurt. Yeah, it fuckin’ hurt like hell she’d been playing it up like she was. The bottles in her purse. The constant partying and the slurred words and stumbling.
What the fuck was going on? I hadn’t intended on talking to her naked in the shower. I hadn’t intended on opening the shower door. Shit, I hadn’t intended a lot of shit with her.
I wanted to strangle her, and yell and force her to tell me. I had gone into the bathroom to do just that, but then I opened the shower door and saw her. She looked so … vulnerable and fragile. I hated her for whatever bullshit she’d been feeding me, us—everyone. But the protective instinct to hold her and take away the pain I saw swirling within the depths of her eyes …
I crashed. I fuckin’ crashed.
I kissed her and broke down that last wall which had been teetering for years.
My cock had never been so fuckin’ hard, and yet I wasn’t even thinking about sex. I was thinking about her, the girl, the woman, the sassy smartass chick. I wanted to take the pain I felt in her away with my kisses. Carry her to my bed and hold her until she fell asleep in my arms. Wake up to her messy, blue-streaked hair and her smart-ass remarks. Then I wanted the girl I’d lost so long ago. I knew she was still part of Georgie. The sweet, innocent girl who tried to please everyone, who wasn’t broken and filled with so much anger and pain and trying to numb it with all the bullshit.
Jesus. Had I driven her to this? Why would she pretend to be something she wasn’t? I’d wanted her for so long, the lines were now blurred. She was almost an obsession. I knew it, and my men fuckin’ knew it.
The reason I could never have her was so faded into what I wanted and needed that I was uncertain if it was even the real reason anymore. At first, I tried to do what was right and keep my word to Connor, but now … now, right was being washed away. There was no right anymore. Except, what right did I have bringing her into my fucked-up world?
The door creaked and I raised my head. Georgie stood, wearing baggie, grey track pants and a loose pale-pink, V-neck shirt. I saw the transformation. She’d pulled herself together and was all sass now, but I was going to tear her back down again. I needed the truth, and if I didn’t get it then I knew my only other choice—walk away.
“Really, Deck?” She gestured to her clothes.
I felt a pull on the corners of my lips. All this bullshit happening and she could still manage to get me to smile. “That’s all you get.” There was always a purpose to what I did and getting Tyler to bring a bag of sweats and baggy t-shirts was a damn good one. Didn’t really work, though; she still looked fuckin’ hot as hell.
I watched her think it over and it was cute. Yeah, she was ignoring the big picture here. She was debating whether to push the issue or let it ride. Georgie was good at pushing, but she was smart as hell and knew when to shut her mouth, too.
“I feel like ice cream.”
And she was letting it go, probably scared I was going to start in on her.
And I was. I just wasn’t doing it right now.
She cocked her hip and put her h
and on it. Fuckin’ track pants were supposed to do nothing for her body and yet … “Strawberry. You have any? I was thinking about putting it all over my body and having you lick it off.” And there was the flirty sass she was hiding behind.
I stared at her for several seconds as my cock swelled just thinking about that image. Her lying on her back, hands above her head, squirming beneath me as I covered her body in ice cream, then inch by inch licked it off until only one place remained—between her thighs. She’d arch up toward me, begging to give her what she wanted yet I’d deny her until she submitted to me completely.
Georgie’s complete and utter submission.
Yeah, I’d get it from her.
I lived by instinct. It drove me, protected me and it was going to be my breaking point. Because Georgie standing there, sober, beautiful and … Jesus, she looked innocent and sweet and sassy and stubborn.
“Or we can do your cock instead. My mouth—”
“Stop.” I needed her to stop before I tossed her on the bed and fucked her.
Trying to cover up her vulnerability wasn’t going to work anymore. I was an expert at getting the truth from people. I knew the tactics, and I was going to use them against her. I’d let her stir. Feel uneasy. Uncertain as to when I’d pounce. And I would pounce and it would be hard. “It’s in the freezer.”
HE HAD MY strawberry ice cream? Deck didn’t eat ice cream, but he had my favorite in his freezer. Two possibilities came to mind: either Deck bought it knowing I loved strawberry ice cream or he was a closet strawberry ice cream eater.
I opened the freezer and there it was. It was like opening a present on Christmas morning for two reasons. One, it was my favorite and two, because Deck had my favorite in his freezer. I found an ice cream scoop in the second drawer down, and I placed it and the container on the counter just as Deck walked into the kitchen. He was wearing his jeans low on his hips and a plain, black t-shirt that showed off every contour and accentuated his tatts. He came in close … real close, then reached past me into the cupboard and pulled out a bowl. Then I heard the scattering of utensils and the drawer banged shut.