Claimed by Him (New Pleasures Book 1)

by M. S. Parker

  “Shit.” The word was more breath against my hair than sound.

  I touched the spot where the knife had first gone in. “The tip got stuck in my sternum. He had to work it back and forth before he could get it to move again, which is how a shallow cut left that much of a scar.”

  “Rona.” His voice cracked.

  “I don’t have to tell you the path the knife took.” I gestured to the scar. “It wasn’t deep enough to hit anything too important, but it got all twisted, like you can see. Some of it was him. Some of it was me trying to get away. Which I didn’t. I ended up on the floor, and he must’ve thought I was dead. I passed out, but not for long. I still don’t know how I managed to get up and get to a phone. I called 911 and then heard the kids next door screaming.”

  “Fuck, babe.” His arms tightened around me.

  “He killed the housekeeper and the babysitter. She was a couple years older than me.” I pushed back the memory of finding Darcy with her throat cut. “Dad had the kids trapped in the bathroom. He was screaming, pounding on the door. I could see it breaking and tried to shove him away. He pushed me down, and I saw he’d dropped the knife. I stabbed his leg, and he kicked me in the head.”

  I shivered, and Jalen pulled my blanket up around me.

  “You don’t have to tell me anything else,” he said. “Get some sleep. I’m here.”

  I nodded. That was pretty much all there was to tell anyway. What had come after was about what could be expected. Recovery. The trial. Moving away so I’d never have to hear about it.

  Jalen was right. I’d rehashed enough of my past tonight. I was safe here. He’d keep the nightmares away.

  Twenty-Nine

  “I’ve got you.”

  The words struck panic hard and deep. I gasped for air, and it was like someone had built a fire in my lungs. Each breath burned, but to not breathe was worse. Black spots danced in my vision, blocking out the owner of the voice.

  I didn’t need to see him to know who he was. I knew his voice, the feel of him. He’d made me feel safe, and now he was stripping that away from me, replacing it with fear.

  It was the ultimate betrayal, to have the person I trusted the most let me down. He said he had me, but I knew he didn’t. He was walking away, lies still falling from his lips, smile still on his face.

  I tried to call out to him, to tell him that I still needed him, but my voice caught in my throat. Once he disappeared, I’d never see him again. I’d be left with the new him. This cold, angry creature who knew only violence and pain. He’d hurt me and like doing it because that’s all I would be to him. An outlet for all the misery he held inside.

  How could things have changed so fast? I didn’t understand. Was I truly this naïve that I’d believe he meant anything he said? He’d broken my heart, and he would take my life. It’d be easy to do. I was only a shell of a person, more fragile than anyone realized.

  Was that what had finally turned him away? Seeing me for who I was? A coward who couldn’t stop him. A child who couldn’t save her mother. A woman who failed at everything she did. A friend who couldn’t save her mentor. A lover who couldn’t keep him.

  Two hims. Two men. Both betrayers. Both heart-breakers. Men of lies and violence. I’d given my heart to one from birth, and he’d protected it…until he tried to destroy it. I’d given my heart to another, and he crushed it.

  “I’ve got you.”

  I heard the sarcasm now, dripping from every word. The laughter underneath the promise. A mockery.

  “I’ve got you.”

  He let me go.

  “I’ve got you.”

  He tried to kill me.

  “I’ve got you.”

  He hurt me, and he’d do it again.

  “I’ve got you.”

  No one ever stayed. No one…

  I jerked awake, disorientation lasting only a few seconds before I registered where I was. My apartment. Home. Jalen had brought me back here after the funeral. I remembered now. We’d had sex, and I told him my story. He’d held me while I’d fallen asleep.

  No wonder I’d had such a confusing nightmare, mixing past and present, my father and Jalen. It was actually more surprising that I hadn’t experienced more nightmares over the past week. Stress usually brought them on more often.

  It was morning, and the light in my room was enough for me to see that I was alone in bed. I could hear Jalen in the shower though, and the sound helped me relax. He hadn’t snuck out.

  I pulled the blankets more tightly around me and gave in to the desire to snuggle back down into the bed. I wasn’t self-indulgent often, and today seemed like a good enough day to give it a shot. Besides, it was Saturday. I hadn’t done much in the way of work this week, but I didn’t see the point of opening up before Monday, especially since all the work fell to me now.

  I was still lazing about when Jalen came into the bedroom. His hair was still wet, and he wore only the dress slacks he’d worn to the funeral. He looked…lickable. I pushed myself into a sitting position, prepared to enjoy the view. He bent over to pick up his shirt, then visibly startled when he saw me.

  “You’re awake.”

  “I’m thinking a lazy Saturday might be just what the doctor ordered,” I said with a smile. “We can make brunch out of whatever I have in my kitchen and just veg out. Watch some TV. I’m sure you’re as exhausted as I am. I really appreciated you being there–”

  It wasn’t until just then that I realized he wasn’t looking at me. In fact, he was looking everywhere but at me. I might’ve written it off as him dressing, but his cheeks were flushed. I frowned.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Don’t you feel like we went from zero to ninety in ten seconds flat?” he asked.

  I tucked my blanket more tightly under my arms, suddenly self-conscious once more. “What do you mean?”

  “This.” He gestured around us. “We went from complete strangers to staying over at each other’s places and talking about all this deep, personal stuff.”

  “I’ve got you.”

  The voice from my dream echoed in my head as my body went cold.

  I could have reminded him that he’d been the one to initiate our first kiss. That I hadn’t exactly had to twist his arm to get him to have sex with me. I could’ve reminded him of how he’d later regretted the asinine way he’d behaved, both that night and when he’d found Clay here. There were dozens of other instances I could have brought up, times when he’d clearly been the one taking the lead or insisting that he stay with me when I told him to go home.

  I didn’t say any of that though. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. All I could do was stare at him.

  “I’m not saying I don’t like you. Things are just going too fast. We need to take a step back.”

  A step back.

  I wasn’t an idiot. I knew that was what people said when they wanted to leave but didn’t want to look like the bad guy. I’d just lost someone close to me and told him about the worst thing that had ever happened to me. If he flat-out broke things off, he’d be the worst sort of asshole. A step back meant that he wasn’t abandoning me. Just taking some time to think. Getting some air.

  Retreating like a fucking coward.

  “I’ve got you.”

  “You understand, don’t you?” He still couldn’t meet my eyes. “It’s been a lot to deal with.”

  I swallowed a bitter laugh. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how deep he was cutting. I also wasn’t going to tell him it was okay. It was fucking far from okay. I managed a tight nod.

  “Do you want me to walk you out?”

  I barely recognized my voice.

  “No.” He shook his head, relief flooding his features. “Thanks.”

  I didn’t know if he was thanking me for the offer or for what he thought was agreement on my part. I didn’t care either. I just wanted him gone.

  “I’ve got you.”

  The front door closed, and the sound
echoed back through my apartment, confirming that I was alone. If I believed in fate or destiny or any of that shit, I might’ve thought my dream was prophetic.

  Instead, I saw it for what it was. A reminder of the truth I’d let myself forget.

  Men left.

  “I’ve got you.”

  For years, I’d blamed my mom for what happened, for not leaving my father and getting us out of that situation, but the one thing I’d never felt toward her was abandonment. She hadn’t chosen to leave me. If anything, it had been her loyalty that had gotten her killed.

  No, my father had been the one who’d taken her away, and he’d taken himself away too. Sure, he’d had that accident at work, and it’d changed him, but I’d heard enough about what happened to know that the accident had been his own fault. He hadn’t been paying attention to his work, and it’d bitten him in the ass. He might not have exactly chosen to walk away, but it’d been his poor choices that had put him in the position to get hurt.

  “I’ve got you.”

  Anton hadn’t chosen to leave either, but he’d known how dangerous people could be, and he hadn’t taken enough precautions to keep himself safe.

  “I’ve got you.”

  Clay…Clay had never left me. I’d run away from him, but he’d looked for me. Without Anton around, he could have ignored me. There were so many times I’d done things that should have driven him away, but he’d stayed.

  “I’ve got you.”

  I threw off the covers and got out of bed. I knew exactly what I needed to do and where I needed to go. The first thing I needed was a shower. Then, I’d pack a bag.

  Thirty

  I was standing in front of the door, my hand still in the air after knocking, when I realized that I probably should have called to let him know that I was coming. The only reason I even knew his address was that he’d put it into my phone when he first came to Fort Collins to see me. He’d told me that it meant I wouldn’t have any excuse to not see him at some point.

  I had a feeling he hadn’t meant showing up on his doorstep on a Saturday morning, but the moment Clay opened the door, I knew I’d made the right choice by coming here.

  “Rona? What’s wrong?”

  “Can I come in?” My voice was even, but I knew I was on borrowed time for that.

  “Yes, of course.” He stepped aside, and I walked past.

  I didn’t go far though because he grabbed me with one arm and pushed the door closed with the other. He crushed me against his chest, and I could finally breathe. I pressed my face against his chest, the soft material of his sweatshirt as familiar as his scent.

  “Give me a minute,” I mumbled, “and I’ll fill you in.”

  He smoothed his hand over my hair. “Take your time. I’m in no rush.”

  I stayed where I was until my body finally relaxed. Every inch of me ached from the tension I’d been carrying over the past few hours, but I felt better just being with Clay. Even if I wasn’t attracted to him anymore, he was the closest thing to family I had left.

  “Let’s sit,” he said when I stepped back. “You can tell me why you’re here, and I can tell you why I’d been planning on driving down to see you later today.”

  I looked up at him as I made my way over to the sofa. The apartment was nice, but definitely a bachelor pad. I wasn’t about to start critiquing his décor or housekeeping. I wasn’t his girlfriend.

  “You go first,” I said as he disappeared into what I assumed was the kitchen.

  He came back with two beers and handed me one.

  “A little early for that, isn’t it?”

  His expression was grim as he sat next to me. “My news alone is worth at least one beer. Judging by the way you came here, I’m guessing yours is the same.”

  “Shit, that’s ominous.”

  He raised an eyebrow as he took a long swallow, and I followed suit. I’d been crazy to think that I could ever actually have a nice, boring life.

  “Everything for your dad’s new trial got rolling this weekend,” he said. “I ran interference with the DA’s office, let them know what was going on, and they did what they could without you, but you need to be back in Indiana Monday morning.”

  Fuck. Yeah, that was worth alcohol. I took a long drink, but even the buzz I was getting from drinking on an empty stomach wasn’t helping.

  “I can take care of travel plans,” he continued, “and you’ll have police protection waiting for you when you get there.”

  I nodded, still trying to wrap my head around what he was saying. I hadn’t forgotten about the trial, not really, but things with Adare had pushed it out of my mind. In a way, it hadn’t actually felt real before, more like it was part of one of my nightmares. Now, though, hearing Clay talk about travel and police protection, it all became a hell of a lot more real.

  “Are you going?” I asked. “To the trial?”

  He looked at me for a moment. “Do you want me to be there?”

  I could’ve told him no, that I could do it on my own. I’d done so much on my own already. I could stay with him for a bit now, get my head back together, then take care of things myself. I didn’t need him to be there with me.

  But I wanted him there.

  The first time I testified, I’d been a teenager – a young one at that – and I’d had my uncle there for support. I was an adult now, but it would be nice to have a friendly face in the courtroom when I took the stand. Especially since my gut was telling me that my father’s new defense attorney wasn’t going to be as…polite as the last one.

  It was one thing to come after a woman in her twenties with no visible injuries – and no way in hell would I wear something revealing enough to show my scar – and something else altogether to come after a teenage girl, still bandaged and hurting. There had been no way to downplay what my father had done to me, and no way to question what I’d seen without risking upsetting me and making the jury sympathize with me. This time, my memories could be called into question without risking much in the way of pity. Not only were they the memories of an adolescence, they were from nearly a decade ago.

  I hadn’t seen my father since the day he’d been sentenced, and the thought of it had my stomach in knots. That, plus testifying again, made me want to have someone I could look to, someone I could lean on.

  “I would,” I said quietly. “But only if it won’t be a problem for work. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’ve got some vacation time stored up. I’ll take it.”

  We settled back against the couch, sipping our beer while lost in our own thoughts. It was a comfortable silence, and it made me long for what we had been. I didn’t want him, not even like I had before, but it would be easy to turn to him for physical comfort. He was as gorgeous as ever, and I knew he could do things to my body that would make me forget for a while. He wouldn’t argue with me, and it would be so easy to lean over and kiss him.

  But it wouldn’t be fair to either of us.

  I’d be wishing he was someone else, and he’d be wondering if things between us were changing again.

  I wouldn’t do that to him.

  He broke the silence. “Will you be okay with me hearing everything at the trial?”

  “You’ve already read the file.”

  “I did,” he agreed, “but I don’t want you to be up on the stand, talking about the things that your dad did, then look at me and get thrown off because it’s stuff you haven’t talked to me about.”

  “Trust me, it wouldn’t make me feel any better if I’d told you everything myself.” I glowered at my beer, then finished it off.

  “Shit.” He looked over at me. “Did you tell him? Jalen Larsen?”

  I nodded. “Let’s just say I overestimated him.”

  “Bastard,” he growled.

  I looked over at him, all of the emotion I’d been trying to hold down twisting inside me. “I can’t completely blame him. It’s a lot to take.” I plucked at the front of my shir
t. “Not to mention what Daddy Frankenstein did to my torso.”

  “Bullshit,” Clay said. “Don’t you dare put the blame anywhere other than right where it belongs. On Jalen.”

  I shrugged. “You might not say that if you saw it.”

  “Then show me.”

  The words hung there, stark and terrifying. Clay had seen the medical reports, the pictures from the first trial. He knew what my father had done to me, but he’d never seen the end result. And now, even though he knew I’d trusted a virtual stranger before I’d trusted him, he wasn’t angry. He was offering me the chance to have someone react the way Jalen should have reacted.

  What the hell.

  I sat forward, closed my eyes, and lifted my shirt. Clay let out a low whistle, and the knot in my stomach loosened. I opened my eyes and lowered my shirt. Clay’s eyes met mine, and they burned.

  “If your father gets off, I’ll kill him.”

  I smiled, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “Thank you. And I’m sorry for not showing you before.”

  He gave a dismissive wave. “It’s okay. I get it. Things with us have always been…unconventional.”

  “Thank you,” I said again. “It means a lot to me that I can count on you.”

  He put his arm around me and pulled me against him. “No matter what happens, Rona, you can always count on me.”

  I flopped back on the couch and leaned against him. “If that’s the case, would it be okay if I crashed here today? I just can’t face going back to my apartment tonight.”

  “Of course,” he said. “You’ve always got a place in my bed.” I smacked his stomach, and he grinned at me. “My guest bedroom, I mean.”

  I laughed and remembered why being with Clay felt so good. Coming here had been the right thing to do.

  Thirty-One

  I just wanted to lay down and go to sleep. Never wake up. Everything hurt and going to sleep would stop it. All I wanted was for the pain to stop. But I had things to do.