by K. I. Lynn
I stormed out of the kitchen and into the living room, my hands at the hem of my shirt.
“He is not hurting me,” I said, my voice raised and shaking. How could he even consider his son capable of abuse?
“Lila, no.” Nathan reached for my hands. The panic was evident in his features.
“No. He has to see. I will not allow your father to think you are abusing me! That you are hurting me!” I argued, pulling at my top.
Nathan’s hands pushed mine back down.
“I said no, baby. Only I get to see you without your clothes, even if my father is a doctor.”
We stared off, neither backing down from our positions.
“Fine,” I conceded, my hands released the hem. Turning to George, I lifted my hair up, exposing the area hidden beneath. He gasped as his gaze took in the obvious bite marks on my neck and shoulder, hand print bruises on my arms, and my tank top exposed the bruises and bites along my chest. “I’m an easy bruiser, Mr. Thorne. Malice and hate does not mark me. Nathan’s passion and need do. I know the sting of an angry hand and that is something Nathan does not have with me.”
Sadness etched George’s face and I could see the same emotion in Nathan’s. He lifted his hand up and caressed the marks he had left there. Leaning forward he placed light reverent kisses where he’d just touched.
I grabbed a hold of Nathan’s shirt and pulled his collar back aside to show his father the matching bite marks I’d given his son. “See? He’s not doing anything to me that I don’t want him to. We just get a little…carried away, is all.”
George cleared his throat, gaining Nathan’s attention again. Nathan pulled his head back, his hand gathering mine and lowering it down to our sides.
“I’m sorry, Lila, Nathan. I was just concerned. It’s apparent your anger is getting out of control. I mean, look at what you’ve done to the entryway in the past few months. I was just worried that you…Darren told me you haven’t been by in months. He wanted me to let you know he won’t refill your prescriptions anymore unless you get back in to see him.”
Nathan’s hand released mine and moved to his face, rubbing at his eyes. “I know, I know.”
“This is serious, son. I want you to get better. I want to see you smiling again. I want to see you happy.” George’s gaze flickered to me. “But you’ll never be any of those if you don’t get help.”
Nathan snorted in response. “Yeah, because the last three and a half fucking years of therapy have done wonders.”
“It only works if you actually want help and work at getting better. Not going in months, not talking to him about your new relationship… Things are changing for you, and you need some support to help you get through this, work through this. To move on, so you aren’t weighed down any longer. You deserve it, as does Lila,” George said, love and concern written all over his face. “You’re going through your meds at a much faster rate than usual. David also told me you missed your last appointment.”
“I had to reschedule it, that’s all.” Nathan’s tone was a bit harsh in his agitation. “And I’ll call and get in with Darren this week.”
“Because you’re out of meds?”
Nathan sighed and nodded in agreement, his father seeing the truth.
“Well, I should be headed out now before your mother begins to worry.” George pushed off the couch and moved to stand in front of Nathan. He wrapped his arms around his son, pulling him into a fierce hug. “I love you, Nathan.”
Nathan hugged his father back with matched ferocity. “I love you too, Dad.”
To my surprise and shock, George wrapped his arms around me and whispered in my ear. “Thank you, Lila. Please take good care of him.”
I stood frozen in his arms for a moment, and then with slow, tentative movements, my arms wrapped around him. I still wasn’t good with hugs, and sudden ones, such as George’s, were the hardest.
“Have a good night. I hope to see you at dinner sometime soon. Your mother misses you,” he added before turning for the door. “Oh, and don’t forget to bring this lovely young lady with you. Your mother would love to meet her. It was such a pleasure meeting you, Lila.”
“You too,” I said as he stepped through the door.
We stood in the living room for a few minutes before I broke the silence.
“Dinner?”
A grumble from Nathan’s stomach caused us both to laugh, breaking through the tension in the room.
“Please.”
After dinner, Nathan grabbed my hand and pulled me to him, bringing my lips to his with a gentle touch.
The kiss intensified and a few gropes later, he was pushing me against the counter. He released my lips and trailed kisses and nips down to my ear. “Come on, Honeybear, let’s move to the couch. I need a new batch of bruises on my body so I can scare the neighbors…”
I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous nickname he had concocted for me and the silly things he was saying. The name started after the event at the bar with Andrew, when he’d interrupted us. Its use had increased to where it was now being spoken at least once daily. I was sure it was being done to annoy me.
However, I couldn’t stop the joy that filled me every time he said it; the warmth that spread through my heart.
Walking into the living room, he sat down on the couch before reaching for the remote.
“Why is it that you don’t want me to see Andrew, but your fan club can hang all over you?” I asked as I moved in front of him and straddled his legs before moving lower. His hands moved up to my waist, his thumbs making small circles on my skin. “That sounds like a double standard to me, Mr. Thorne.”
“It’s simple. I have no interest in any of them and I have never touched, nor will I ever touch, any of them. Andrew, on the other hand, has shared a bed with you, been in a relationship with you, had his cock inside you.” He growled the last part, his fingers flexing around my hips. “I know he wants you and you have every opportunity to go back to him. He wants to take what’s mine.”
“They want what’s mine,” I pointed out. “And how do you know Andrew wants me?”
Nathan sighed and gave me an exasperated look.
“Delilah, I know you’re naïve in some regards, but trust me, he wants you back. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And, yes, the girls may want what’s yours, but have I ever touched them? Have I ever given any indication I wanted to pursue any of them? I don’t want to pursue anyone.”
“You pursue me,” I said, regretting it as soon as the words passed my lips.
Bad idea, Lila. Monumental sized bad idea.
His mood change was swift, and he became sullen, his hands stopping their movement across my skin.
“Yes. Against my better judgment.”
“What does your judgment tell you to do?”
“It says that it’s better for you if we weren’t together, but that line of thinking makes me want to go mad and I find it even harder to let go of you.”
“So…you’re saying…that your heart pursues me?” I pressed, praying to God he would give me some slight indication of how he felt about me. Even a hint that he cared for me. I needed to hear it. I desperately craved the affections of his heart. “Your head rejects me, but your heart wants me?”
After some thought, I realized it would have been better if I’d hit him with a frying pan at that moment, rather than let those words slip past my lips.
His eyes widened as he stared unblinking at me. His grip tightened, pulling me closer, his forehead leaning to rest against mine, his eyes screwed tight. Tension was radiating off him. The turmoil happening inside him was my own selfish doing and was difficult to watch, making me feel helpless. Hadn’t I accepted he didn’t operate this way, that he might not ever be able to say the words or express any real, lasting affection for me?
“I’m sorry…” I trailed off, my hands creating soothing motions on his back.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled my body flush with his. His lips tra
iled down my neck and across my shoulder, dropping my tank top strap down my arm, ending the conversation there and moving on to what we both needed.
To the only way he knew how to express his feelings.
CHAPTER 21
“Oh, my God. Could you quit flaunting your tits around? I’m getting so sick of looking at yours, I can hardly stand to look at my own. And, by the way, if he hasn’t taken the bait yet, he isn’t going to.” Caroline was attempting to get the point across to two B.S. members, Kelly and Tiffany.
I was having a very difficult time keeping my coffee in my mouth. It was threatening to fly out all over my desk, files and computer screen. There was nothing worse than coffee stained documents.
I chanced a glance over at Nathan, also attempting not to laugh, his hand covering his mouth, concealing his upturned lips. His eyes betrayed him, laugh lines crinkling in the corners.
Laugh lines.
My addiction to seeing them was growing stronger every day. Each time he smiled, I wanted more.
Caroline was living up our secret to the fullest by giving it to the Boob-Squad.
“Whatever, Caroline.” Kelly sneered, pulling me from my internal musing, before grabbing Tiffany’s arm and leaving our office.
We continued to snicker about them after they left, our good mood making the office feel light.
It was short lived when Andrew’s voice rang out around the walls.
“Morning!” he greeted with a huge grin.
He and Nathan exchanged a brief glare before he turned back to me and smiled.
Andrew seemed to note our grins. “Did I miss something?”
“Just Caroline showing the Boob-Squad why she rocks,” I answered.
“Awesome!” He reached out to Caroline for a high-five. “Oh! Hey, Lila, guess who I ran into last night?” he asked, plopping down on the chair in the corner of our office.
“Who?”
“Teresa,” he stated.
My face lit up with a smile. “I thought she and Armando were still in Europe.”
“Yeah, apparently Joan found another kid that needed a home and, well, you know Teresa.”
I smiled as a picture of Joan Stateman popped into my head. It was with Joan’s help that I got out and was able to see what a normal family was like. It was because of them I had gotten as far as I had in life, despite my rocky start. I owed them my life.
“Yeah. She never passed up the opportunity to help any child,” I replied with a smile.
“What are you two talking about?” Nathan asked.
Andrew looked to me, I looked to Caroline, Caroline looked to Andrew, and we all looked to Nathan.
“Well, umm, Teresa was my foster mom for a little while.”
Nathan’s eyes grew wide as he stared at me in shock, his jaw slack.
Caroline jumped up, pulling on Andrew’s arm. “Come on, Andrew, let’s go get some coffee.”
“Umm, okay,” he mumbled, looking between Nathan and I in confusion.
Caroline shut the door as they exited. Another reason to love her.
“What?”
I bit my lip and took a deep breath. Only Andrew and Caroline knew what I was about to divulge to Nathan. I wasn’t hiding it; I just couldn’t stand the twenty million questions people always had that followed. My ex-family’s words still haunted me. Why would I want to open that up to everyone?
I let out a long breath before speaking. “A few months before my seventeenth birthday, I contacted a children’s law center to be emancipated from my family.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Nathan ran his hand through his hair.
“Joan, she was my lawyer… In fact, she was the one who got me interested in law. Anyway, we never made it to court, child services stepped in. Joan knew of a couple who liked to help out teens in situations such as mine, and so I moved to Indianapolis between my junior and senior year and finished out high school here.” My hands twisted in my lap as I went into details of my teenage years that few knew. “Teresa is a sweet loving woman who was very patient with me. She was my first hug.”
“Your first hug?” I could see the wheels turning in his head.
I nodded. “My first real hug since I went to live with my father. Armando worked with me, showing me that what my father and stepbrother did was not how most men behaved. It took me a long time to trust him. I waited for the insults to slip from his lips, but only words of encouragement and caring ever came from him.” A small smile crept onto my lips. “Armando was a bit awkward, but that made him more endearing. Noah was also there, he helped as well.”
“Who’s Noah?”
“Noah lived with Teresa and Armando when I moved in. He’s a year older than me. He had come from a more abusive home than I did. When his dad sent him to the hospital, the law stepped in. He was headed to college that fall; something he never thought he would do. He showed me what a brother was supposed to be like. He was better adjusted than I was to people; he had a better support system.”
Nathan’s expression morphed before my eyes. So many emotions passed over his face as he digested it all. Every bit of pain, anger, and remorse that crossed his face, solidified what kind of a man Nathan was inside. Especially compared to those I grew up with. The emotions he felt were not directed at me, but for me. I could see it in his face; he wanted to hurt those who had hurt me.
“Do you want to know what my favorite Disney movie was?” I asked out of the blue.
He looked up at me with soft eyes, and my heart fluttered. “I want to know anything you want to tell me.”
“Cinderella. I used to pretend I was her and a prince would come and take me away.” A sad smile tugged on my lips. “It was when I was fourteen and Adam kicked me so hard he broke two ribs that my dream came crumbling down. The hospital, of course, believed the story my father told about what happened. He told them we were rough housing when the truth was Adam was pissed off, and I was an available punching bag. It was then I realized if I wanted out, I had to do it myself; no one was going to come rescue me. There was no prince on a white horse.”
When I looked over, Nathan’s fists and jaw were clenched tight. “Did he do that to you often?”
“It was mostly verbal. Yeah, he’d push me into walls every day, but a few times a year he would go off, and I’d be in the hospital again. I was ‘clumsy’ you see. Clumsy Lila hurt herself again. Tripped and fell down the stairs. Can’t walk across a flat surface without falling. Clumsy, clumsy Lila.”
I sat silent and still for a moment to collect myself; I’d been willing the tears away. When I turned to look at Nathan, he was staring at me with sadness and anger. I wasn’t sure how to make it better, so I kept silent.
“Did your father hit you?” he asked through clenched teeth.
My head unconsciously twitched at the thought, and Nathan hissed out a soft “fuck.”
“He would slap me, but he never punched. He couldn’t stand to look at me, and if his eyes met mine, he would snap.”
“Why then?” he asked.
“Because he was staring at his eyes on the face of a woman he slept with once, years before, and he hated her for ruining his life. He hated me.”
“Your mother?”
“She died in a car accident when I was five. Steve, my father, knew about me, but didn’t want anything to do with me. When she died, he was listed as my guardian. I don’t think she ever meant for me to go with him, but her own parents were dead, and she had no other family. I’d never met him before that day.”
I took a deep, shaky breath. It was always hard to talk about my father, a man who held so much contempt for me. “He was married by then, and his wife had a son of her own. They all hated me for disrupting their family. It was the talk of the town because he was prominent in the community, so he couldn’t ditch me once word got out. I wish he had, but they had to think he was the kind of man that did the right thing. So, he took me home and ignored me. He refused to soothe me when I was upset; he would yell and sc
ream instead. He put on his proud father face when out, but when at home, I was left to fend for myself. Child protective services would be all over his ass these days.”
Nathan’s voice was strained, every muscle in his body tense. “How did you survive?”
I snorted. “He taught me independence through neglect. That was probably his downfall.”
His hand reached across the desk to mine. “You did nothing to deserve it. You know that, right?” His thumb was making soothing circles across my fingers.
I knew he wanted to do more, but we couldn’t in the office. It would have to wait.
I nodded as best I could. Words would fail me because I couldn’t agree, not fully, and then he would see through me.
We returned to our work, Nathan peering over at me from time to time to make sure I was all right, and I knew he could see I wasn’t. I felt out of sorts for the remainder of the day; my mind kept wandering back to those awful times in that house. I couldn’t even eat lunch, still bombarded with the memories.
The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. It was long, but without drama or encore performances from the Boob-Squad. Which was good. I still couldn’t shake the memories and they were dragging me down.
It was several hours later when we returned to my condo. He could sense my sullen mood and wordlessly helped me out of my suit while he stripped out of his own. He made us a simple dinner, because he couldn’t cook much, but it was appreciated all the same. I sat on the couch flipping through channels. Once we were done and the dishes were washed, he pulled me into the bedroom and laid me on the bed.
That night, he paid great attention to me, worshipping my body. And like that morning in the shower, he used his touch to bring me back to myself, back to him. It was softer, but still intense, passion flowing from him into me. His presence overpowered everything else. With each thrust, he was pulling on the rope that tied us together, pulling me back to him. His arms were wrapped around my body, holding me to him. When he pushed me over the edge, I felt my heart spring open.