by Sienna Blake
I have this memory of when my parents were still alive. I had woken up to a nightmare and run into their room screaming. They wrapped me up between them and their presence was like shields around me. Soft, warm, loving shields that protected me. I force my mind to go back to this memory and I pretend that this is just a nightmare and I’m actually asleep, safe in my parents’ arms. I’ll wake up soon. I will. I feel my heart slowing as a warmth surrounds me.
The mattress shifts behind me. The smell of soap and Jacob’s cologne keeps intruding through my memory. He washed himself after he… the smell makes the room spin. Just keep breathing. His arm curls around my stomach and he pulls me into place. I am thankful his hand doesn’t go anywhere on my chest. He would feel my heart about to burst out of my ribs.
His body is hot. Too hot and it scorches my back. It causes bile to rise in my throat and his mark to burn on my ass. I remain still.
I don’t sleep.
As the light through the curtains signals dawn, I feel Jacob waking up and his erection growing against my back. My body tenses as his hands dive down my stomach. Oh God. He touches me between my legs. Something inside me breaks. Everything goes numb. The numbness works through my body as he works his fingers against me. It isn’t long before he climbs on top of me.
I should be screaming at him. I should be pushing his hands off me. But I don’t. I feel nothing. I think nothing except that I want to live. I want to get out of here alive. I want that more than anything. I want to live.
You won’t realize how strong you are until you are given no other choice.
When he kisses me, I kiss him right back. When he touches me I make all the right noises. When he enters me I wrap my legs around his waist and push back against the headboard because I know he likes it when I do that. It also means he’ll come quicker. The quicker he comes, the less time I have to make myself go through this. I squeeze my eyes shut and remind myself, I am strong. I want to live. I repeat this word in my mind with every thrust.
Live.
Live.
Live.
“I need to go home for a few hours today,” I finally get up the courage to say to Jacob over breakfast. My voice shakes and I hope he doesn’t notice it.
“Why?”
“Class,” I blurt out.
Jacob folds back his newspaper and narrows his eyes at me. “I didn’t think you had classes today.”
Fuck. “I don’t, but there’s a book I need for class, um, for class tomorrow. There’s homework due that I need to do. I need the book to do the homework for class… tomorrow…” I stop talking. Shit. Even I sound suspicious to myself.
Jacob’s eyes flick in the direction of his office. “Okay, I’ve got business I need to take care of this morning. I’ll pick you up for dinner.”
Oh my God. I force myself not to cry out in relief. I’m almost out of here. Almost.
“Snake will take you home.”
I freeze. No, please. Not Snake. Not Snake who was just involved in a murder. Not Snake who would kill me in a second if he knew that I knew. Why does it have to be Snake?
All the way home I can feel Snake’s eyes on me from across the limo. His beady pinpoint eyes feel like needles in my skin. I try not to look at him. I swear he knows that I saw them. I swear he does.
Snake insists on walking me all the way to my dorm room, which he never does. Oh God, he knows. Just breathe. I force myself to walk straight, chin high as he walks behind me. I can feel his eyes on me, coating me like a slimy moss. When I reach my door I force myself to turn briefly to him and thank him. I fumble with my door and stumble into my dorm room. Trisha isn’t in her bed. There’s no one here except Snake and me. I turn to shut the door. Snake’s foot shoots out to stop it from closing. Oh fuck.
He pushes the door back open and stares at me with narrowed eyes. “I’ll be back. At five.”
I nod and try not to let the fear leak out of my eyes.
Finally he takes his foot out from my door and I can finally shut it.
I lean my ear against the door until I hear his footsteps fade away. Only then does the wave of horror rise up from my soul like bile. It burns my throat. I run to the bathroom. My insides clench violently as I curl over the toilet and throw up all my breakfast. My body is trying to purge itself of Jacob, of his touch, of his smell, of his taste. Oh God.
Even after I have nothing left to throw up, I still feel sick. I feel like every single pore in my body is dirty. I rinse out my mouth and the burn of the mouthwash is cleansing. I wish I could soak my body in it so that it burns away every trace of Jacob.
I tear off the clothes I’m wearing and stuff them in the trash. My body feels cold like frostbite and it’s painful when I stand under the hot shower. Even after I stand under there for twenty… thirty… forty minutes there’s a part of me that’s still cold. A part of me that will never defrost.
I force myself out of the shower then to change – jeans and a plain tee and sneakers.
Then I run.
Chapter 15
The present
Through the slip in the blinds I can see the sun has dipped below the horizon darkening outside. The street lights are on and it floods the street with pools of light. I watch for anyone coming to the building for me. No one does.
I slip my gun on my bedside table while I call Dixie and tell her I can’t come in to work today. She can tell something’s wrong but she doesn’t pry. She tells me to take as much time as I need.
My mind keeps going over how this could all possibly connect. The woman’s number on a matchbook from a club which just happens to be owned by the Tyrells… Jacob Tyrell being the very man I am running from. Is this just a coincidence?
The paranoid part of me, the part that still doesn’t trust anyone, says that there’s no such thing as fucking coincidences. What if Cade is working for the Tyrells? What if he was using me all this time?
This can’t be true. It can’t. It just can’t. Every look, everything Cade has said to me, it doesn’t feel like a lie. If this were true, why hasn’t he killed me? Or brought me to Jacob?
I can’t deny the link. I can’t take any risks. I have to leave again. At least I had eight good months here. There’s cash and clothes in my car. All I have to do is go downstairs and start driving. Caden would never find me.
I get out of bed and stare around my apartment. Is there anything else I need to take with me? I open the bedside drawer to take out the spare magazine of my Smith and Wesson. I see the drawing that Jeff made of us and I feel a pang of loss. Your family away from home.
I don’t want to leave.
Dammit. I knew better than to get attached. I knew better. I let myself care anyway. Next time, I can’t let myself care at all.
I force myself to harden. If I stay, I risk my life. Maybe one day in the future, when it’s safer, I can find a way to get in touch with Mick and Dixie and the guys and let them know I am okay. For now, I just have to go.
What was that?
My ears prick up when I hear soft footfalls approaching in the corridor. They stop outside my door. I hear a soft knocking.
Oh my God. It’s Jacob.
Jacob wouldn’t knock. He would kick my door in.
Then who is it? No one has my address, except…
My fingers curl around the gun handle. The familiar contours of the gun work somewhat to calm me. I tiptoe to the door, careful to avoid that creaky floorboard, my gun aimed at the door at heart-height. I lick my lips – they’re completely dry. My heart is thudding so hard in my ears that I can barely hear it when the knock sounds again.
I press my eye to the peephole.
Caden is standing outside. Caden, dressed in a dark shirt and denim. I’m going crazy. He can’t really be there. I blink. He’s still there beyond the peephole.
Caden Thaine. Every tall muscled inch of him. That dark hair that I love to run my fingers through. Those green eyes that unstitch me with one glance. That dangerous scar that thrills me to
lick.
I’m hit with a torrent of emotion, so hard that I feel like I’m almost knocked backwards. I hate that he’s here and I don’t trust his intentions. My heart reacts by releasing a rush of heat through me. All at once my mind roars with chatter.
Don’t open it. It’s a trick.
But it’s Cade. You know him. He would never hurt you.
You’re an idiot.
He’s unarmed.
That’s what you think.
Fuck. Either way I have to know why he’s here.
In one swift move, I unlock the deadbolt and swing open the door, pointing the gun at Cade’s chest.
His eyes find my face first. They look down towards the barrel of my gun aimed at his heart. The sadness in his eyes makes my own heart ache, but I don’t drop my aim. I don’t falter. I don’t even flinch. My face remains stern like steel.
“You don’t need to point that at me, kitten.”
Hearing his nickname for me causes tiny cracks in my resolve. No. Stay strong. “What do you want?”
He seems to accept that I’m not lowering the gun. “Can I come in?”
His eyes remain on my face. No, I can’t keep meeting his gaze. It’s too intense and it melts me and makes me soft on the inside. I drop my gaze slightly down to his left cheek. “Not until you tell me what the fuck you are doing on my doorstep after disappearing for four goddamn weeks.”
A ghost of a smile touches the corner of his lips and I see him nod slightly. I feel for some odd reason that he is proud that I haven’t just given in to him.
“I came to apologize.”
Down the corridor I hear another door open. I can hear Mrs. Gardener, my neighbor, yelling at her husband not to forget the milk. Mr. Gardener has to walk past my door to leave the building, and even he won’t miss the fact that I have a gun pointed at this man.
I step back but keep my aim on him. “Get the fuck inside,” I growl low.
He steps in and turns to close the door behind him, just preventing Mr. Gardener from getting an eye-full of my barrel as he ambles past my door to the stairs. I step forward and press the barrel to his spine.
“Hands on the door.”
He complies.
“Don’t. Move.” Using the words that he always uses on me before he strips me makes my face heat up and sends a pulse between my legs.
Keeping my gun pressed into his back I use my other hand to pat his back, sides and legs down for a weapon. I can feel every hard, thick inch of him and my body responds like a cat in heat. Imagine if he were naked under my hands…
I bite my lip and am grateful that he can’t see me struggling to keep my shit together. I have to step closer to him to move my hand around to feel his chest.
Before I can touch him he grabs my hand and brings it up to his mouth. His lips running along my fingers has me shaking.
“I’m not armed.”
Anger and need mix in my body and it hurts. It fucking kills like a fist twisting at my insides. I hate myself for still reacting to him this way. I hate him for coming back.
I snatch my hand back. My eyes roam hungrily across his wide back under his dark shirt then drop for a second to his ass. Shit. I need more distance between us. I take another step back and he slowly turns around.
“I missed you, kitten.”
“Liar!”
“I understand why you’re angry. I understand why you want to shoot me.”
My gun is shaking in my hand and my arm is starting to get so heavy.
He continues, “I didn’t want to leave. But I could feel what little I had to offer you wasn’t going to be enough anymore. I don’t have any more to give you. I don’t. You deserve so much more than me. I thought I was doing the right thing by you. To leave before you started resenting me.”
“That is such bullshit, Cade.”
“But you resent me now anyway.” He shakes his head, sadness pulling at his features. “I messed up. I thought… I thought that you would be better off without me. I’m still sure that you would be better without me. But I’m selfish and I need you too much. I can’t stay away from you anymore. I’m sorry.”
My heart is flipping in my ribcage. I want so badly to throw this gun aside, this single piece of metal that separates us now, and to melt into him. I just… I can’t move. I can’t fucking move. I want to believe him, but I’m scared to.
“You looked so sad the other day. Even from where I was I could see that you’d been crying. I wanted to wipe your tears away and kiss your eyelids until you felt better. I wanted to kill the person that hurt you. Then I realized I was the asshole who did this to you. I fucking hate myself for being the cause of it.”
“You- you’ve been following me?”
“I just needed to know you were okay.” His hands raise in an attempt at placation. “That you were safe. Happy. I just needed to see you.”
I have to fight to keep my eyes open as a wave of emotion overwhelms me. It’s sadness and ache and anger and beautiful agony all at once. Cade has been with me even when I didn’t think he was.
“If you tell me to go away, I will. If that’s what you want. That’s the only reason I would ever leave again. I can’t live without you. It took losing you to realize it.” He steps forward.
I step back. “Stay back or I’ll shoot.”
He steps forward again and I step back. “Tell me you never want to see me again and I’ll make sure you don’t.”
I believe him. I could end this now. If I never wanted to see him again, he would go and he would stay away because I asked him to. He takes another step. My gun is shaking now and I’m angry that I can’t keep my aim straight. His hand comes up slowly towards the barrel of my gun.
“Don’t. What the fuck are you doing? You want to die?”
His fingers close around the steel. He aims it at his heart and steps forward so the barrel is pressing at his chest. “Kill me or tell me that you want me to leave. It’s the only way you’re getting rid of me.”
I can’t. I can’t do either.
“If you need to shoot me, then shoot me. I would be okay with that. My life is yours anyway, kitten. I know that now.”
“Fuck you,” I whisper.
I can’t look him in the eyes. I know that if I do I am a goner. I need to stay strong. I need to remember that he is hiding things from me. That he is broken.
So are you. You are hiding things, too. You are broken.
He lifts his other hand to cup my cheek. It’s the first touch that we’ve shared in almost a month. My skin warms under him and it feels like summer rain through my body. Warm and heavy and rolling. I turn my head and press my nose to his skin. It smells of musk and wood smoke and him. It smells like home. It feels like I’ve just taken my first real breath in weeks.
Every trace of hesitance evaporates. Whatever this is I can’t walk away and I can’t tell him to leave. We are bound. Always.
The gun slips from my hand as I reach for him. He pulls it from between us, and our bodies and lips meet. My arms clutch around his neck and his arm wraps around my waist. He pulls me up around his hips and moves sideways until I’m sitting on the kitchen counter. I hear the clatter of the gun being put aside before his hands race up under my clothing and through the neck of my shirt to grab at my hair. The collar tugs back against my neck and chokes me a little, causing me to moan. His tongue pushes deeper into my mouth like he’s trying to taste all the noises I make for him. Using my legs hooked around him I pull him closer until he’s pressing against everything that aches for him. My lips, my heart, my core.
I lose myself in the rush that consumes me. It has built up and my heart feels like it’s bursting. It escapes as tears from my eyes.
“You bastard,” I say as I clutch at his hair. “If you ever leave me again you’d better be dead or I’ll find you and kill you myself.”
He laughs and licks each tear from my cheek and my jaw. But I’m not in the mood for sweet and loving Cade. I thrust my hips forward and rub
at his erection through his jeans. He lets out a curse and I watch his eyes narrow as his darkness takes over.
I love all sides of Caden. Even the broken and twisted parts. This part of him is the one I want fucking me right now.
I have barely taken another breath when his hands tug my pajama pants from under me. The laminated bench is cold against my ass and I hiss. He steps back to pull the material off the ends of my legs. He doesn’t throw them to the side. He starts to wind the legs of my pants around his hands like a rope. I’m panting just watching him watching me. There’s nothing I want more right now than to be bound and laid out for him. I press my thighs together to hide my wet ache.
There’s now only a foot of material between his fists. He steps forward and pushes himself between my knees. My legs separate around his hips. He places the piece of pant material between his fists around the back of my neck.
“Put your hands on your head.”
I comply. The action causes my back to arch and my chest to stick out and I moan at the pressure of my breasts against my shirt. He glances down. From his angle he can see all the evidence of my need for him. My hard nipples against my top and my exposed wetness below, dripping to the counter. His gaze burns me and I suppress another noise. A devious grin slides across his face. I want to suck it right off his lips.
His gaze comes up to meet mine. He winds the legs of my pants around my wrists and starts to tie until, somehow, my wrists are tied to the back of my neck. With his hands, he pulls my top up and tucks it over my head until the collar hem sits just across my nose and over my eyes. Through the thin cotton I can make out his gauzy figure taking up most of the space in front of me. If I look down I can see a small gap at the bottom of the material. I can see the tops of my thighs and the triangle of counter between them.
I feel his wet mouth all over my breasts and hear him undoing his pants. He bites my nipple and I cry out. The pain is exquisite and I rock involuntarily on the counter. I need him now. Please, God, don’t let him tease me.