by S. M. Shade
Two rough fingers lift my chin until my eyes meet his. “I don’t hate you, couldn’t even if I tried, Evie.”
I nod, and he sighs, shaking his head like he thinks he’s making a mistake. “Eight o’clock?”
“Huh?” I mutter, surprised by his acceptance.
“Is eight o’clock okay?”
“Oh, yeah, eight’s good.”
He gets to his feet and drops a chaste kiss on my cheek. “See you then.”
Chapter Three
Mason
My head isn’t where it should be. Damn Evie and her soft brown eyes. I’ve tried to get her out of my mind all week with no success. Then she turns those remorseful eyes on me, pleading for a chance to explain, and I can’t say no.
My day has been shit already. A woman I swore to protect has been attacked. I should be focused on how to update our security protocols, not thinking about how Evie’s lips felt around my cock. Fuck, I still want her and not just in bed. I miss talking with her, her quick wit and ability to throw my teasing right back at me. She’s fun, adventurous, and so compassionate. Shit. I’m done in.
I’ve cared for women before, even thought I loved them, but it’s nowhere near how this stubborn woman makes me feel. Every inch of me wants to give this relationship another chance, but I’m not sure I can. It’s not that I can’t forgive her. I just need to know every time something goes wrong or scares her, she won’t run away.
My usual confidence is nowhere to be found when I knock on her door. I have no idea what I’m going to do. I’m met with an uncertain smile when she opens the door and I’m struck by the heartbreaking thought this may be the last time I see her smile.
Any other woman hoping to reconcile—if that’s what she wants—would be dressed up and wearing a ton of makeup. I can’t help but grin as she stands before me in worn jean shorts and a tee shirt, her face clean and hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. It’s just so Evie. This is who she is and I can take her or leave her. Damn, I want to take her.
We settle on the couch, and she looks like she’d rather be anywhere else in the world when she says, “I have trouble trusting people, believing they are who they appear to be.”
“I kind of figured that out, sweetheart.”
Her hands twist in her lap. “But I want you to know why…well…I don’t really want you to, but I think you need to and…”
I grip her hands in mine, stilling them and her nervous babble. “It’s okay. You can tell me anything. Just take your time.”
Resigned, she leans against the back of the couch and begins. “I told you I was five when my parents died and I was put into the foster care system. The first few places I was sent were terrible. Too many kids shoved into tiny rooms full of bunk beds. Little supervision. The older kids tortured me, stole my food.
“I didn’t speak for nearly a year and finally the school alerted social services. I was taken in by a married couple, Frankie and Jeanette. It was like paradise compared to where I’d been. I had my own room and there were no other kids. They fed me, took me to the doctor…took care of me. I went to therapy twice a week and eventually started talking again. I was happy. For a while.”
She swallows and gets to her feet. “I need a drink. Do you want some wine?”
“Sure, sounds good.” I know she’s trying to get her thoughts straight, gather her courage for whatever she’s going to reveal. Avoiding my eyes, she hands me a glass of wine and places hers on the coffee table.
“Jeanette was a lawyer so she worked long hours. Frankie traded stocks and worked from home. He was the one who met me every day after school, who helped me with my homework and tucked me in at night.” Her voice wobbles and she takes another gulp of wine.
“I’d lived with them for almost a year and they were talking about adopting me. I finally had a family again, a mom and dad. But shit like that just doesn’t happen, does it?” she spits bitterly.
“Anyway.” Her hair falls into her eyes as she shakes her head, and I reach slowly to tuck it behind her ear, earning me a small smile. “Frankie said he loved me, that I was the daughter he always wanted. And I wanted a father so bad, Mason,” she moans, her eyes pleading with me to understand. “That I let him do what he wanted to me. Let him touch me, fuck me,” she confesses.
“Fuck,” I mutter. I was really hoping her story wasn’t leading there.
“I know. It’s disgusting.” A tear slips from her eye and she scrubs it away.
“No, Panda, not you.” I pull her into my lap and wrap my arms around her. “What he did was disgusting. Unforgivable.”
“He taught me to swim, and to ride a bike. He went to school and chewed out the principal when I was getting bullied. He was always there, acting like a dad, like he loved me. So when he started touching me I told myself that was how dad’s showed their love. That’s what he used to say. Behave and let me show you I love you.”
“How old were you?”
“It started when I was almost nine. For a year, he only touched me, made me touch him. Then Jeanette landed a big case and started staying overnight at her office more and more. He took advantage of her absence and started fucking me.”
“Oh, love, I’m so sorry.” Her face is buried in my neck as I ask, “Did he go to jail for raping you?”
“I don’t think you can call it rape,” she scoffs. “I told you. I let him. I didn’t want to get sent back to a group home or somewhere worse…and I thought he loved me.”
She gasps as I grip her jaw and force her to look at me. The shame and misery in her eyes tears a strip from my heart. “Listen to me, Everly. It was absolutely rape. He groomed you, gained your trust, and then abused you. If you heard this story from one of the kids at BTC, would you blame them?”
“Of course not!”
“If a grown man molested then slept with one of those girls, would it be rape?”
She gnaws her lip before replying, “Yes.”
“But with you it wasn’t?”
“I…shit…I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. It wasn’t your fault, baby. You know. You just have to accept it.” Finally, I get a small nod. “How did it stop, sweetheart?”
“A few days after my tenth birthday, Frankie invited his friend Mark over for dinner. We played video games and ate pizza. It was fun…until bedtime. When Frankie came to my room, Mark was with him.”
Oh fuck, no. I don’t want to hear this.
“He said Mark had a little girl and he was going to join us to learn how to love her. I said no, begged him not to let Mark touch me. I fought and screamed, bit and scratched, but he held me down until Mark was finished.”
Her chest jumps as her breath hitches. All I can do is hold her tighter. “They were rough, and it hurt so badly. That’s what I remember most. The pain and the blood. They wouldn’t stop coming at me, and I eventually passed out while they were still taking turns.
“When I woke, they were gone. Someone had changed my sheets and cleaned me up. If it weren’t for the pain in my crotch and stomach, I would’ve thought I dreamed the whole thing.”
“What did you do? Who did you finally tell?”
She climbs off my lap and draws up her legs, clasping her arms around her knees. “I didn’t tell anyone. I ran away.” Her tortured eyes meet mine. “It’s what I do.”
“Not from me, Evie. Not anymore.”
She nods and continues, “The cops picked me up a day later and took me to the group home where I lived until I aged out.”
“Everly.” She leans into my hand as I stroke the side of her face. “I’m so fucking sorry you went through that. If I find that guy, he’s a dead man.”
Her soft hand slides into mine. “It’s long past. I’m sorry I let it fuck up what we had. I just…if a man could spend a year convincing me he loves me, making me love him, then let some stranger rape me…”
“Your new boyfriend being a sex trafficker isn’t that much of a leap. I get it, baby.”
“This is
why I don’t do relationships. I’ve got more issues than Time Magazine. It’s not fair to you. I’m sorry.”
Her expression tears me apart. Regret and guilt war with shame and pain. But there’s something else there, a sliver of relief after finally sharing her nightmare, a glimmer of hope that I’ll understand, that maybe it isn’t too much. “You never told anyone?” I ask.
“Ian knows some of it. I don’t want anyone to know, but I know I hurt you, and I want you to know that it wasn’t about you. You were so good to me. I trust you never to tell anyone, even if we can’t remain friends.”
Christ, what am I going to do with her? “I can’t be your friend, Everly.”
Her gaze falls to the sofa cushion as she nods. “I understand.”
“I don’t fuck my friends and I sure as hell don’t fall in love with them.” The shock reflected on her face when I scoop her onto my lap almost makes me laugh. “You’re mine, Evie. Mine to love and protect. The sooner you accept that, the better.”
Warm arms wrap around my neck so tight I can hardly breathe. “I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.” I take a second to inhale her scent, coconut mixed with something I can’t place. So sweet. “Now, grab your stuff. You’re coming back to my place tonight.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” she teases, poking me in the ribs. “Love won’t keep me from kicking you in the balls.”
“There’s my stubborn spitfire.” Her soft lips open in surprise when I take them in a passionate kiss. I missed this, missed her so much, her voice, her smell, her taste. I want to throw her in bed and show her what she’s been missing, but it won’t be tonight. After the conversation we just had, I’m sure sex is the last thing on her mind.
A soft moan rattles her throat as we break apart, and she rests her forehead against mine. “I really can’t tonight…my head’s screwed up.”
“No sex, love. I just want you with me.”
“It’s the only place I want to be,” she murmurs, climbing off my lap.
“Of course, I expect you to feed me,” I tease.
“To what?” she quips, flashing a quick grin.
“Do you always have to have the last word?”
“Of course not.” She pulls on her shoes and heads to the bedroom.
“Good.”
“Fantastic,” she calls from her room.
Stubborn woman.
* * * *
Everly chews her lip, looking uncertain as she crawls into bed with me. She’s been understandably quiet tonight after revealing her past. “I just want to hold you, love, and wake up to that beautiful face in the morning.”
Her body relaxes, molding perfectly to mine, and I rest my chin on her soft hair as she lays her head on my shoulder. “Will you still be able to look at me the same?” she asks softly. “You know…when we have sex? Would you rather I hadn’t told you?”
Her eyes widen when I grip her chin, tilting her head until she has to look at me. “I see the same loving, compassionate, sexy as fuck woman I fell in love with. You aren’t defined by the horrible things that happened to you. I’d do anything to go back and keep those bastards from hurting you, but your past has made you who you are. My Panda. And I wouldn’t change you for one second.”
Glazed eyes fill with relief, and she presses a soft kiss to my lips. “You’re perfect, and I’m terrified I’m going to screw this up again,” she confesses.
“I’ve made mistakes too, baby. We haven’t known each other very long, and we have a lot to learn. So no, I don’t wish you hadn’t told me. I want to know everything about you.”
Soft fingers dance through my chest hair as she replies, “I didn’t think I’d ever fall in love. It happened so fast. It scared the shit out of me.”
Chuckling, I kiss her forehead. “Me too. Once you stood still long enough to let me love you. Just promise me, no matter what happens, you’ll come to me, let me explain. No more running.”
“I promise. What you do for those women is amazing, Mason. You’re putting your own freedom at risk. Is that why your father is in prison? Did he start it, and you took over?”
I can’t help the snort that escapes, and Evie sits up, gazing at me. I guess it’s not fair to hide my shit after she so bravely shared hers.
“My father is a murderer. He’s on death row.”
Chapter Four
Evie
Holy shit. I stare down at Mason. “Are you serious?”
“No,” he scoffs, “I only said it to impress you. Women love a guy with killer blood in his veins.” Mason sits up, leaning back against the headboard.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Like you said, Evie, I don’t want to, but you need to know. I want you to understand why I could never hurt a woman, why I’ve done my best to protect them.”
I take his hand, and he squeezes it. “My father killed my mother. He abused her for years and my brothers and me as well, to a lesser extent. She tried to shield us from him, from his temper, but as we got older he came after us more and more.”
His face softens as he gazes into the distance. “She was beautiful, Evie, like you, and so damn brave. It was an average day when she picked us up at school and announced we weren’t going home. She’d been saving what money she could for years, hiding it in her friend’s account. She rented an apartment and a friend helped her move our stuff while we sat in school, clueless about how our lives were going to change.
“She found a job in a doctor’s office as a receptionist. The move meant we’d have to change schools, but we didn’t care. It meant moving into a worse neighborhood, and walking or taking a bus everywhere because we didn’t have a car, but we were happy, the four of us.”
“Were you hiding from your father?” I ask.
“No. He was pissed, but he thought she’d never make it on her own with three kids. He tried the penitent act at first. Apologizing, even buying a few things for us, clothes and stuff. Until she filed for divorce. At that point he knew she wasn’t coming back. That’s when he started stalking her.”
“Did she involve the police?”
“Yeah, and you’ve seen how much help they are.” I’m met with a stony expression when I look into his eyes. “She filed for a restraining order, citing physical abuse and stalking. They denied it on insufficient evidence. He was sitting in the living room when we got home from school, and the look on his face was terrifying. I knew I was seeing a man who just didn’t give a fuck anymore.
“Mom shooed us from the room, but I snuck into the hall to listen. I also brought the twin’s little recorder, hoping to catch his threats, show evidence to the judge. My father sat back on the couch, his ankle propped on his knee and said, ‘I’ve had enough of this shit, Monica. You’re going to call that piss ant lawyer and stop the divorce. You’re bringing my boys home and that’s final.’
“She faced him like she had a hundred times before. Her voice was steady as she replied, ‘No, you’re going to leave or I’m calling the cops. Quit calling my job and trying to get me fired. They know I have a psycho ex, so it won’t work. They want to help, will even come to court if I ask and testify you’re harassing me.’ I’d never seen a man move so fast. He was on top of her, hitting her, and I couldn’t just stand by anymore. I don’t know what I thought I could do when he was four times my size, but at least I drew his attention from her.”
Mason’s voice is monotone, robotic. I don’t think he even realizes I’m still there. It appears I’m not the only one unaccustomed to saying my story aloud. I want to grab him, hold him, but I want him to get it out, so I stay quiet and let him continue.
“His arm wrapped around my chest as he turned me toward my mother and said, ‘I’ll have them every other weekend, all alone. Hell, I might even win custody.’ His hand slid around my throat, choking me, until Mom gave in and told him we’d come home. To just give her a couple days to get shit straightened out. She told him what he wanted to hear so he’d let me go.�
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“So you moved back home?” I ask, running my hand down his arm.
A small smile tilts his lips. “No. She called the cops the second he left. Her lawyer got an emergency hearing for a restraining order set for the next morning.”
“She was brave,” I remark, and he nods. “What happened at the hearing?”
I swear I can feel the heartbreak in his deep sigh. “The judge was a friend of my father’s brother, who was the chief of police in Marion County. We never had a chance. The judge spent ten minutes chewing out my mom for trying to separate a father and his children, while she stood there with a black eye.”
“Oh, fuck, Mason, no.” I’m furious on his behalf. They must have felt so hopeless, watching the law take the abuser’s side.
“I was glad my brothers weren’t there. Mom made them go to school, but I’d threatened to walk to the courthouse if I had to.” Dark hair flops in his eyes as he shakes his head, and I smooth it off his forehead. “He grinned at me. I remember that like it just happened. The way the bastard grinned at me, like he’d won the lottery, instead of the right to beat his wife.
“The lawyer gave us a ride back to the apartment, babbling about an appeal, but Mom didn’t answer him. She looked so lost and afraid. I wanted to kill everyone involved for the tears that ran down her cheeks. The judge, the cops, the lawyers.
“She must’ve felt terribly alone,” I murmur, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“She was alone. She sent the twins to stay at a friend’s house that night, in case he showed up. She wanted me to go too, but I wouldn’t leave her alone. She told me to hide and call 911 if he showed up, made me promise not to get between them or even let him see me.
“We spent the evening jumping at every little noise. When it got past midnight, we started to hope he wouldn’t come. I tried to stay awake after she made me go to bed, but at some point, I fell asleep. My mother’s scream woke me just before dawn. I heard her pleading with him, and swearing that we weren’t there, that we were at Sarah’s for the night.”