Borden (Borden #1)

by R. J. Lewis

  “Where have you been?” I demanded angrily.

  “Are you going to let in?” he replied, calmly.

  “Answer me first.”

  “Let me in first, or stab me with your knife. Your call.”

  I stiffened and looked down at my opened blade. Shit. I quickly closed it and widened the door for him. There was no use being childish and leaving him out. He stepped inside, brushing against me. God, he smelled good. That scent was his signature, and I’d been dying for it for days.

  “Where have you been, Borden?” I repeated, shutting the door and turning to him.

  “I had some work to get around to,” he said vaguely.

  “I haven’t seen you in almost two weeks.”

  “I know.”

  I frowned at his nonchalant voice. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be away?”

  “Does it matter now? I’m here.”

  “Yes, it matters! You need to tell me, dammit. Where were you?”

  He turned around, looking at me with his brow furrowed. “Why do I have to tell you where I was, Emma?”

  “Because.”

  “Because what?” he pressed, his face darkening. “Last I heard, you’re my employee, and I’m your boss, and I don’t have to tell you shit.”

  I crossed my arms, feeling angrier than before. “I’m not just your employee, and you’re not just my boss.”

  “No?” he leaned forward, staring at me hard. “Then what am I, Emma? Educate me.”

  “You’re a man coming to my apartment because you want me. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

  He didn’t respond. He was suddenly very upset, and under the terrible dim lighting, I took notice of the black bags under his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and suddenly moved to the front door. I quickly stood in his way.

  “No,” I told him. “Don’t come and then decide to leave when you realize what’s happening between us –”

  “There’s nothing happening between us,” he seethed.

  “Liar.”

  Abruptly, he gripped me tightly around the shoulders, shaking me as he gritted out, “You want to know where I’ve been? I’ve been wondering what the fuck I’m supposed to do with you. I don’t know whether to fire you or fuck you.”

  “You won’t fire me,” I retorted, glaring at him with certainty. “You want me, and not just my body, but me. Admit it.”

  “You’re delusional.”

  “No, I’m just not afraid of you anymore.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Then you’re an idiot, Emma.”

  “Good. If being an idiot means being with you, then I’ll embrace it.”

  He let me go, staring at me like I’d gone mad, but I hadn’t. I was just admitting something we’d both known for a long while.

  “Then I let this go too far,” he murmured quietly, almost to himself.

  “Because you wanted to,” I replied, pressing him to admit it. “Don’t act like I’m the crazy one here. You wanted to take it far because you liked how good it felt.”

  He didn’t respond. He looked like he was desperate for an escape. He glanced over my shoulder and at the door and then at me again.

  “Don’t go,” I pled, shaking my head. “You’re not the kind of man that runs.”

  Jesus, what had happened to him? He looked completely out of sorts, like his guard was down. And angry. Very fucking angry.

  Instead of going, he turned around and strode away. I watched him disappear into the bedroom, shutting the door violently like he owned the place.

  I was shaky and anxious. I stared at the door for some time, unwilling to move until my heart rate calmed down. Then I let out a breath and went to him. I opened the bedroom door quietly and found him seated on the edge of my bed in the dark, elbows on each knee, looking down at the floor. I moved to him and knelt down in front of him, taking in his expressionless face, which I knew was a façade. He was hiding his emotions, like he was so good at doing.

  “Borden,” I whispered, softly. “Talk to me.”

  His eyes flickered to mine. There was hesitation there. He wasn’t prepared to talk, and that was strange all on its own. I’d never seen him unprepared with just about anything.

  “I don’t know what to do with you,” he finally muttered, sounding lost.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you’re getting under my skin, Emma.”

  My hand reached out to his face, and I stroked his cheek. He shut his eyes at my touch. “Maybe that’s a good thing,” I said.

  He shook his head. “No, it’s not. I’m not supposed to bring anyone close.”

  “Why?”

  He opened his eyes, looking gravely at me. “You know why.”

  Kate.

  “I’m so tired of being in control of everything,” he went on, his voice growing harder. “I’m so sick of being this way. Sick of being on top. Sick of being alone. Sick of pining for a woman I know will get hurt in the end.”

  “I won’t get hurt,” I heatedly stressed.

  “There are a lot of people out there that will try to hurt you, Emma. Do you want to end up dead, your body in the river, placed there just so I could dive in and pull you out?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “That won’t happen.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because you’ll make sure of that, and so will I.”

  He didn’t look convinced, shaking his head irritably.

  “I’m not soft,” I added, angered by his doubt. “I’ve taken care of myself through a hell of a lot in my short life, Borden, and the only person who has ever gotten through to me is a man who takes great pleasure in being an asshole. Deep down, we’re the same. We came from the same place. We carry similar scars and we’ve endured. You don’t have any right to say otherwise.”

  “And what happens if you’re wrong? If I bring you into my world and I call you mine, I’m fucked. Like the drugs, Emma, I latch. You won’t go – I wouldn’t let you.”

  I gave him a sad smile. “That’s life. It’s a gamble. We take risks so that on the other side it might mean something.”

  He tore away from my eyes and dropped his head. He ran both hands through his hair, exhaling loudly. “I never wanted to be in this position again, but I can’t get you out of my fucking head. I can’t breathe without thinking about you, and I…I feel guilt over it.”

  “Why guilt?”

  “Because I reserved myself for her.”

  I nodded slowly, admittedly a little jealous at this admission, though I understood it was wrong to feel that way. I clasped my hands over his and brought them away from his head. Leaning closer, I nuzzled into him, searching for his mouth. He raised his head to me, and I softly kissed him.

  “It’s okay to feel that way,” I reassured him. “I’m not asking you to love me like you love Kate. Hell, I’m not asking you to love me period. I’m just asking that you take a step forward with me, and maybe something good will come of it.”

  His blue eyes searched mine, and for once, I felt unreadable. With that soft smile on my face, he couldn’t see that I was hurting on the inside. I was falling for him, and in that moment, I didn’t think it was possible he’d ever feel the same as me.

  Why was I okay with that?

  “You’re sure this is what you want?” he asked, looking me over carefully. “Because I swear to fucking God, the second you say yes, I’m packing your shit and taking you to my place.”

  “I’ve done well taking care of myself, you know.”

  “Not like this. I can’t afford to slip up once, Emma. If anyone gets at you…No fucking way. I need to be able to get a hold of you any time I need to. I can no longer have you looked after by just Graeme. ”

  I smiled. “Does he live in his car? Is that why I see him everywhere?”

  “No, but I’m sure he sleeps in it. He’s protective of you, you know.”

  “Why?”

  Borden shrugged. “Just is. I don’t know. Won’
t let anyone take his place, but I get why. You’re fucking addictive, so it’s no surprise he’s addicted to looking out for you.”

  I bit my bottom lip. “You’re addicted to me?”

  “Don’t be obtuse. The second I heard your name, I was on to you in a heartbeat.”

  I raised a brow questionably. “Why when you heard my name?”

  “Maybe it sounded pretty.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Bullshit excuse, but nice try. So now talk.”

  He didn’t respond for a moment, silently deliberating with himself about something. I tried to think of what my name had to do with anything, and I came up absolutely short. There was zero reason, at least, that I knew of.

  Licking his bottom lip slowly, he finally whispered, “You once said to me… help is for the weak.”

  I stilled.

  What?

  “I don’t get it,” I replied slowly, but deep inside, I kind of did. My brain was making connections – important connections – grasping moments in my life that had meant something to me.

  He waited for me to acknowledge it, but I simply shook my head. No. No way. I needed more to be sure.

  “Alley cat,” I whispered to myself just then as another memory flashed through my mind. I had wondered too often why he called me that, and now…

  What the fuck have you been up to all night, alley cat?

  “It was you?” I asked, still treading carefully because I could have been wrong, though my gut told me I wasn’t.

  He smiled softly. “Yeah, it was me, and you certainly weren’t a dainty flower, were you?”

  I didn’t respond. I almost didn’t believe it. He looked nothing like the guy I pictured in my head that night. It’d been so dark, and I’d been so shaken up and scared, I’d never really taken the time to have a good look at the man that saved me.

  What were the chances? It was almost impossible to think that man was Marcus Borden, someone I’d always known from afar and had never realized I’d brushed against sometime in my life.

  “Why are you crying?” he softly asked, running his thumb across my cheek.

  I didn’t even know I was.

  “I’m shocked,” I answered him quietly. “I can hardly believe it. I thought about you a lot after that time. When I came to my senses, I realized I owed you my thanks, but I knew I would never be able to pass it along because I didn’t know who you were. I didn’t even remember what you looked like. How did you remember me?”

  His smile reached his eyes, and it was the first time I’d seen such a real smile on him. “Because how could I forget eyes like those?”

  God, he couldn’t say things like that and not have me tripping over myself. My heart burst in my chest.

  He took my arm and pulled me to him, silencing my thoughts with the touch of his lips. Soft and gentle, he deepened it, stroking my tongue with his. Exploring me, unravelling me, all from a simple kiss. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me up the bed, resting me on my back. He was half over me, languidly making out while his hand slowly ventured down the side of my body.

  There was nothing rough about this at all. His light touches made my body more acutely aware of what he was doing, and my pulse quickened. I breathed harder against his mouth, my fists clenched at his shirt as his hand trailed along the waistband of my pyjamas.

  “Borden,” I whimpered, just as he slipped beneath it, brushing lightly against my sex.

  He pulled back and stared down at me, his eyes lust-filled and warm. He watched me carefully as his movements quickened, and I shut my eyes.

  With another light kiss, he whispered against my lips, “Marcus. You can call me Marcus, okay?”

  I nodded, kissing him back. Charged, we tore our clothes apart, and he settled between my legs, those kisses turning deeper and lasting minutes. Leaning on his forearms, he kept his weight off of me, gliding his erection up and down my sex. I shook, and my fingers trailed down his muscled back, stopping at his ass. I gripped him there, and pulled him down to me, kneading my fingers in his flesh, silently begging him to take me.

  Gripping his length with one hand, he slowly guided himself into me, this tender euphoric look on his face. He pushed in, moving one inch at a time, and I stilled, savouring the feeling.

  “You always feel so fucking good,” he murmured against my lips, brushing them softly as he looked down at me. “There’s no walking away from me after this, Emma. Yeah?”

  I nodded. I knew what he wasn’t saying out loud. He was going to make love to me, and after that, my fate was sealed. I would belong to Marcus, and that didn’t bother me at all. Because he would also belong to me.

  He thrust in and out, moving his hips in circular motions and the movements rubbed against my swollen clit, sending delicious sparks straight through me. He buried his face between my shoulder and neck, his hot breaths tickling my skin as he buried himself within me, moaning every time he filled me.

  I gripped him hard, digging my nails into his ass just as I exploded, trembling beneath him. He raised his head and looked down at me, his face radiating with awe and pleasure. Still moving with tenderness, I watched him unravel, and I kissed him, swallowing his moans as he came inside me.

  Afterwards, his head lay on my chest, and I stroked his hair. He held me like I was his anchor, this tight grip that sent tiny spikes straight into my heart.

  He wanted to be cared for.

  I don’t know how I realized it then, but I felt it. He wanted the love of a woman. After all, that was why he came back to this city in the first place. To love and be loved.

  Sort of like me, and every person who grew up feeling like they were abandoned. I may have pretended to be impenetrable, like my independence would somehow erase the needs I’d buried deep inside my soul. But Marcus changed all that. He dug beneath my layers and made me realize it was okay to be vulnerable.

  And while he was still a mystery in so many ways, and there were still so many questions lingering around us, I was willing to wait for the answers to each and every one of them. None of them even mattered to me in this moment.

  Truth was, I… I think I loved him.

  Twenty-Four

  Borden

  He waded into the waters.

  It was still red and it still tasted like blood.

  As usual, Kate was floating a distance away, her blonde hair swaying in all directions.

  He swam to her, but his heart didn’t feel so bad this time. There was no knife-like pain, no sadness coiling itself around his heart. There was purpose in his movements. There was a liveliness he hadn’t felt in years. He was swimming quickly, as if reaching her would end this nightmare once and for all. He just knew this would be the last time he saw her.

  Instead of drifting away, she was getting closer.

  And, for the first time, he reached out to her and wrapped his fingers around her arm. He almost felt happy, that it was finally over, that he could move on and put Kate to rest. He smiled, taking her face into his hand and turning it to him.

  But what he saw instead jolted him. He reeled back, his eyes wide open, his heart ramming harder inside his chest.

  This didn’t make sense.

  His brows came together, and a sick feeling swarmed his insides. The pain returned fiercer than before, tightening around his neck like a noose, until he was panting for breath.

  It wasn’t blonde hair swaying in the waters.

  It was black.

  It wasn’t green eyes looking lifelessly up at him.

  It was brown.

  It wasn’t Kate dead, swaying in the bloody waters.

  It was Emma.

  No. No. No. No.

  This wasn’t real. He told himself that over and over again, but he couldn’t look away from her. He couldn’t bring himself to believe this wasn’t reality. It felt like it. The pain was too real, too fresh.

  Waking up was no longer the hardest part. It was the best.

  *

  Marcus opened his eyes, and immediately he
looked around the dark room. He was covered in sweat and…arms. He grabbed at the arms and followed them to the tiny body curled against his side.

  With a shaking hand, he pushed away the strands of hair over Emma’s face and stared at her. She was breathing. She was fine. She was…

  He sat up and ran both of his hands over his hair. It had felt so real. He thought it was real. He buried his face in his palms and focused on his breathing. He took deep breaths, telling himself over and over again, that it was a fucking nightmare. Nothing more.

  Yeah, there was nothing to be worried about.

  All was okay.

  He would protect her. He would never let his guard down.

  He nodded to himself. “Yeah,” he whispered. He had this. The future was bright with her in it. It wasn’t a black and grey void. He didn’t feel only rage and pain.

  He felt everything else too.

  A buzzing sounded out, breaking him out of his thoughts.

  His phone.

  Someone was texting him at two in the morning, which meant there was a fucking emergency.

  He quickly leaned over the edge of the bed and grabbed his jeans off the ground. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and swiped the screen. His eyes ran over the text and all his self-reassurances from one minute ago vanished into thin air.

  I thought we made it clear never to bring another person close to you again. We’ll get her, Mr Borden, and you will never find me. You will only think you have. But I’m smoke. I scatter and disappear. You cannot find me.

  End of Book One

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