“Let’s go home.”
“Drew…he…” Shivers roll through her and she closes her eyes.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.”
A tear rolls down her cheek, and I capture it with my thumb.
“I-I can’t help him.”
“We’ll still try. I promise.” I thread her trembling fingers through mine.
She shakes her head, beautiful blue eyes brimming with despair, with a hopelessness I’ve never seen before.
My chest feels crushed by the pain I see there.
Haunted.
Broken.
So damned vulnerable.
Fuck, I wanted her walls to come down, but not like this.
I wrap my arms around her shoulders and help her from the booth. She doesn’t resist. It’s like all the fight has been ripped from her – and that scares me more than anything.
“Let’s go home.”
Chapter 22
Henry
Keeley shivers in my arms. She hasn’t spoken since the coffee shop, just nods or shakes her head if I ask a question.
I lead her into the master bathroom and start the water in the large tub.
“Come here,” I say, unbuttoning my shirt and letting it fall to the floor.
When she moves towards me, I help her out of her clothes. I expect her to protest, but she just follows my orders, expression distant, clouded.
I test the water, then help her in, slowly sinking in behind her, leaning back so that she’s resting against my chest.
She relaxes against me, and I swear I can feel every ounce of pain she’s feeling, like it’s my own.
Fuck. What I wouldn’t do to take it all away.
I rub the tight muscles of her shoulders and neck, and she lets out a deep breath, like she’s been holding it in forever.
“I thought I could save him,” she says quietly, lost in her grief.
I pull her hair behind her neck, wincing when I see the dark bruises, and press my lips against her temple. “You’ve done everything possible.”
“Maybe,” she says weakly. “Or maybe I didn’t pay enough attention, didn’t see the signs.”
“This isn’t your fault. None of it.” I hold her a little tighter.
She shivers and I wonder what self-degrading thought passes through her mind. Because I know her, and I know that no matter what I say she’s going to carrying Drew’s burdens herself.
I know, because I’ve done the same thing with Abby. Carrying her sins around like they’re my own. Never forgiving myself when it’s her I’m really angry with. I see it now through Keeley’s eyes, and the way she holds on to her brother like his choices are somehow in her hands.
A tightness that I’ve been carrying around for years suddenly releases and I let out a choppy breath. Maybe one day I’ll gather the courage to tell Keeley everything. But now isn’t the time. Not when she’s still fighting her own guilt.
She curls into me, making the water slosh over the side of the tub. Her head rests on my chest, fingers trailing across my stomach.
Silence stretches between us, until she says, “Drew wanted me to go with him.”
“Go where?”
“With Jax.”
Every muscle in my body tenses, and I have to stop myself from snapping. What the fuck was the kid thinking?
“Does he know what that asshole did to you?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t have the chance to tell him. He just said he and Jax had a plan to pay back the money.”
“Fucking hell.” I can’t hold back my anger. Sitting upright, I thread my fingers through my hair.
I see the silent tears rolling down her cheeks and regret my rough words.
“Shit. I’m sorry. Come here, sweetheart.” She doesn’t fight me when I pull her back against me, sliding back down into the warm water. I have my own views on what those two jackasses deserve, but I also made a promise that I would help her brother. “If we know that he’s with Jax, then we know where he is, how to find him.”
“He doesn’t want to be found. That’s the point. He said…” She gives a small sob that shakes her whole body, but she quickly reins back her emotions. “…that I’m dead to him.”
Anger burns through my veins. After everything she’s sacrificed for that little shit.
I take a deep breath.
“Desperation can make a person do and say horrible things.” I run my hands down her arm, entwining my fingers with hers. “I know how important Drew is to you, will always be to you. But no matter what happens, you’re not alone.”
She gives a small shrug, like she doesn’t believe me.
I turn her in my arms and capture her chin. “You’ve got me. I know you’re not ready to accept everything that I want to give you. But I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”
Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, then she whispers, “I want to trust you.”
“Then trust me. Let me take care of you.”
I gently draw my thumbs under her eyes, wiping away the mascara that smudged from her tears. Her eyes and lips are puffy and red from crying, but she’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’d die before I let that happen.” I feel her shudder under my promise.
“My knight.” She gives a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Eyes so blue, they literally suck the breath from me every time she looks at me. But it’s the pain I see there now that leaves me breathless. So much goddamn fear trembles through her.
“If you let me be.”
God, I love her. More than I ever thought possible. So much that I would walk through the fires of Hades to put a smile on her face. To keep her safe, I would sacrifice so much more.
It’s a ridiculous whirlwind of emotions, but they’re as real as anything I’ve ever felt. But she’s gripped a piece of my soul, made me long for things I hadn’t known I wanted.
Silence swells around us, and I can practically feel all those vacant spaces inside her crying out to be filled. Even though she fights it, I know she needs me. Craves the protection I want to give her.
She’s mine. I just need to find a way to make her trust me enough to allow herself to believe it.
When her gaze drops to my lips, I know what she wants – a distraction from the pain.
I pick her up and carry her to the bedroom, placing her in the middle of the bed.
So fucking gorgeous. Aphrodite would be jealous.
“Let go, sweetheart. Let me love you.”
“You make me weak.”
My heart breaks for the pain I hear in her voice.
“Only because you won’t let go. Together we’re stronger. I’ll be your strength and you’ll be mine.”
“I can’t.”
“You will.” I hold myself above her and slowly lower my lips to hers.
Her breath is warm against my mouth, like a whisper of heat.
“Touch me,” she whispers, eyes bright with unspoken emotion. An array of emotions swirl behind her blue eyes. Sadness. Desire. Hope. Fear. “Please. Make the pain go away.”
She’s so close to giving me everything, and I can tell it scares her.
I fight the urge to push her, knowing it will be so much better when she gives it freely.
“Make love to me,” she whispers, fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me towards her. But I can see the hesitation behind the blue-depth. A ridiculous belief that she’s somehow tainted, unworthy.
My heart aches for the need to make her see herself the way I see her.
Beautiful.
Cherished.
Perfect.
“Everything feels better when you're touching me,” she whimpers.
“I never want to stop touching you. I can barely breathe for the want of it. You make me so fucking hard I can barely think straight.” I lower my head and nip at her lower lip, nudging her thighs apart with my knee.
She lifts her hips towards me and her thighs wrap around my hips, drawin
g me in. Her arms tighten around my neck, and her mouth is on mine, hungry and desperate.
“So fucking perfect,” I groan, sipping at her lips, rather than devouring them.
“I want to taste you,” she whispers breathlessly, hands running down my chest, abs. “I want you in my mouth.” Her fingers surround my cock, stroking it. “Please.”
I groan, rolling over on my back when she pushes against my chest.
She licks her lips, staring down at me as she kneels between my legs and wraps her fingers around the engorged shaft.
Lowering her head, her tongue licks over the tip. A rasp of breath leaves my chest, and my cock jerks against her sweet lips.
“Fuck, Keeley.” My hands are in her hair, guiding her down as she takes every fucking inch of me. “Christ. Your mouth, sweetheart. So damn good.”
“You like that?” Her eyes are all innocence, as if she doesn’t know she’s rocking my entire world.
“God, yes.”
My muscles tighten and bunch each time she flicks her tongue over the crest, then sucks me deeper. Teasing. Stroking. Licking. Until I’m ready to explode in her mouth.
Fire races up my spine, each stroke of her tongue a lash of agonizing pleasure.
“Keeley, shit.” I tug at her hair gently. “Stop, or I’m going to come too soon.”
She blinks up at me and releases my cock, a small smile curving her lips.
“If that’s what it takes to make you smile, you can do that all day long,” I tease, flipping her on her back.
“I wouldn’t mind.” She grins, digging her hands in my hair and guiding my head between her legs. “But I like this too.”
“I know you do.” I lick at her inner thigh, trailing my tongue along the sensitive flesh. Fucking heaven. No other woman had ever tasted so sweet.
She’s so wet, so hot, it would be so easy to slide between her thighs and fuck her hard and deep. First, I want her shuddering in ecstasy against my lips, my tongue, crying out my name with the pleasure of it.
I cup her ass, lifting her to me, parting her silken folds with my tongue. Licking. Nipping. Kissing. She trembles against me, my tongue working until she’s on the brink of losing all control.
“Yes,” she moans, her voice a tight rasp. Her head tilts back, eyes closed, a look of pure rapture crossing her features.
I grip her hips, thrusting my tongue deeper, savouring the sweet taste of her orgasm.
She tenses, shudders, then goes limp with a small whimper of pleasure still on her lips.
“Henry.” Eyes closed, breath uneven, she murmurs my name in a post-orgasmic haze.
I kiss her stomach, fingers brushing across her nipples, moving between her thighs, I let out a harsh groan as her slick, sweet flesh encases the crest of my cock. She stretches around me, her thighs opening, hips arching.
I go still above her, muscles bunched and knotted. I can feel the inferno building, making my balls tighten.
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
She blinks, giving me a half-lidded smile, a glazed look of hunger and need filling her eyes.
My chest squeezes at the emotions that stir there.
Damn. I’ve never known this feeling for any other woman. Tenderness. Lust. A possessiveness that burns to the depth of my soul.
Beneath me, she moves her hips, her body begging for more.
I pull out slowly, so that only the engorged crest of my cock fills her. She moans as if in pain, and I thrust back deeper than I'd been before. She cries out and clenches tight around me, pleas for relief tumbling from her sweet mouth.
Buried deep inside her, I lose my last ounce of control.
My heart thunders.
My breathing speeds.
My cock is harder than it’s ever been.
Her mouth parts on a moan, and I press my lips against hers, catching the cry of pleasure that tears from her throat. I feel the first waves of her orgasm wrapping around my cock, tearing through my senses.
An eruption of white-hot heat pierces through me, and I moan low and ragged, the pleasure too much. I explode within her, each pulse of my release matched by her own small spasms.
It isn’t just lust. It’s so much more. Beyond pleasure. Beyond ecstasy. This woman is my heart. My fucking soul.
Shattered and damaged, but still mine.
Now I just have to find a way to heal her.
Chapter 23
Keeley
I toss and turn, kicking at the covers that are wrapped too tight around my body. A cold sweat breaks out across my skin, and pure terror sweeps through me like a dark entity sent to consume and destroy my soul. A prisoner to the dreams that would forever keep their hold. Always there, always threatening. Drew. Lily. Jax. My mom – But it’s Henry’s face I see this time. Laughing and mocking as I fall through the black void that devours me.
“Keeley. Wake up.” Henry’s voice pulls me from the nightmare, but the minute I wake up, nausea rolls over me. He wipes the damp hair off my forehead while I count to ten in my head, praying that my stomach will settle.
“I’m okay,” I say, placing my palm on his face, and wishing I wasn’t the cause of the concern I see on it.
“The nightmares are getting worse.”
He’s right. They are. But they aren’t just nightmares. They’re memories. So vivid they tear open the wound on my soul, making me sink deeper into the fortress I’ve built around myself.
“It’s fine. I’m fine,” I lie, wiggling out of his embrace and sitting up. Immediately I regret the action. My head spins, my stomach revolts and sweat slickens my skin. I place my hands on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor, ready to bolt to the bathroom if I need to.
I can’t be sick. Not for Becca’s wedding.
“Shit, Keeley, you’re white as a ghost.” Henry practically jumps across the bed to crouch in front of me.
So protective.
My heart clamors in my chest, begging me to give everything to him, and yet unable to. I feel like I’m standing on a precipice, teetering on the edge. But fear holds me back from taking that final step.
“I’m just nervous about today.” I touch his cheek, and he leans into my hand.
“I told you, you have nothing to worry about. Becca took care of it. The Sullivan’s won’t be there.” He takes my hands and places a gentle kiss on each knuckle.
Strength and warmth.
The possessive looks he gives me eases my anxiety, the way it always does when he lays claim to me. Making me believe that everything will be all right. That maybe I’m not fooling myself trusting that this thing between us is something real, something lasting.
“I’ll make us breakfast,” Henry says, brushing his lips over mine, before standing.
I give a small nod and wait until he’s left the room to make my way to the bathroom, still dizzy and slightly nauseous.
I’ve felt off for the past couple of days. I’ve blamed it on nerves, on the stress of everything that’s happened with Drew, but there’s a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that it’s something more. Something I don’t even want to contemplate.
Leaning against the bathroom counter, I stare at my reflection, and my heartrate accelerates at the word that flashes like a neon sign in my mind – pregnant.
I clench my teeth and avert my gaze. Shit. I count the days in my mind and curse under my breath.
Two, maybe three, days late.
I can’t be. But even as I think it, I know it’s a probability. Fuck. How could I have been so stupid? I place my hand over my stomach and close my eyes.
What would Henry think? That I planned on trapping him with a child he doesn’t want. Just like my mother, believing that a baby would make him mine.
But he’s already yours, a small voice in the back of my mind protests.
I shake my head, unable to believe it. Still not willing to take the chance that someone like Henry could really love me. The tape that’s been holding my broken heart together all these years threatens to co
me undone. What would happen if I let it shatter all around me?
Maybe my mind would just go, like Drew and Abby.
No. I’m stronger than that. At least I use to be. Before Henry. Before hope.
Numbly, I step in the shower and turn the water on cold, needing the painful prick of the ice water to clear my head.
Don’t panic until you have reason to, I remind myself.
But Drew’s words continue to echo like a broken record,
You’re just like our mother – a whore.
My heart thuds violently in my chest.
Despite Henry’s insistence that what we have is real, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m repeating the same cycle. Like mother, like daughter.
Chapter 24
Henry
I’m worried about Keeley. Hell, I’m always worried about her. But she’s acting more distant than normal, and I can’t shake the feeling that she’s going to run.
She hasn’t spoken about Drew since the day at the café, dismissing me whenever I mention him. I’ve given her space, but I’m starting to wonder if I should have pushed more, because she’s shutting down on me and there’s nothing I can fucking do about it.
It’s only when my hands are on her skin, my cock buried deep inside her that she lets her guard down. The rest of the time she’s constructed a barricade so wide, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to bridge the gap.
After the wedding I plan on taking a few weeks off, get her out of the city, away from the reminder of all the shit she’s been going through.
My cell vibrates, letting me know that a car is waiting for us.
Unease winds through me. I’m still not happy about this marriage, but I’ve come to terms that it’s what Becca wants.
Keeley walks out of the bedroom and I’m rendered speechless. She’s always beautiful. Christ, she could wear a brown paper bag and still be the most gorgeous woman in the world. But dressed in the soft blue silk dress, with matching stilettos, her hair pulled seductively on top of her head in an elegant up-do, she looks like she belongs on the cover of a fucking magazine.
“Is it okay?” she asks, glancing down at the dress. Her chin trembles slightly when her gaze catches mine.
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