by KL Donn
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she must have cried herself into a fitful sleep because she was startled awake by her phone beeping again. Covered in sweat and out of breath, she couldn’t remember what she had been dreaming of. If the panic that had settled in her heart was anything to go by, though, it was for the best. Looking at her phone, she saw that an hour had passed since the previous message. Opening the new one, her breath caught in her throat.
Casey: I’m not leaving, Kitten.
She loved that he called her Kitten.
Casey: Come to me, Ev.
Not thinking about anything other than needing to be touched, that overrode her self-preservation. Dragging herself from bed, she sluggishly walked to the door and headed down the stairs to see for herself if he were there.
When she reached the so-called security door, there he was like a savior. He stood, leaning against his truck, handsome as could be in his black form-fitting t-shirt, muscles on display, as well as the few tattoos he had on his arm. What shocked her was that he was wearing a pair of board shorts and sneakers. His prosthesis, something she thought he wasn’t comfortable with, showing to the world, on full display.
Ev’s step out of the building had him looking up. A smile lit his face for a brief moment before it was covered with a frown of worry as he looked her up and down.
Rushing to her, he immediately picked her up into his arms. “What happened?” he asked when she cringed from the pain that lingered between her legs and from the few bruises she had left from Marcus’s assault.
Burying her head in the crook of his neck, she fought back tears as her body absorbed his strength. She began to shake violently as she finally broke down.
“Kitten, talk to me.” His voice was hoarse. “Please, Ev, tell me what’s wrong.”
She couldn’t catch her breath. Pain was vibrating through her entire being. It was embedded so deeply into her soul that she didn’t think she’d breathe again without it echoing in her chest.
Evelyn felt him walking, heard his truck door open. When he went to place her on the seat, she gripped his neck tighter. Her tears fell harder, and her body shook so bad that he had to grip the doorframe to keep his balance.
“Please, Evelyn, you have to talk to me.” He soothed her by running a hand up and down her back.
“Yo, Evie!” she heard Devin, one of the boys that lived in the complex next to her, call out.
Her grip was so strong on Casey’s neck that he was barely able to look at him. “Who are you?” he challenged.
“Woo, man, calm down.” She heard Devin but couldn’t see the boy. “She’s a nice lady. Was just checkin’ she’s all right is all, man.”
She felt Casey relax slightly at his words. “I don’t know,” he answered, her pain echoed in his voice. She wanted to speak, but the sobs wracked her entire body and left her breathless. She couldn’t find her voice even if she wanted to tell him what happened.
“Was it Marcus again, Evie?” Her entire body froze and tensed at Devin’s question.
Casey clearly felt the change in her. “Marcus?” She buried deeper into his neck, flinching when he said the name. “Who the fuck is that?” he demanded to know.
She could feel the weight of their stares as Case waited for an answer she wasn’t prepared to give.
Devin, however, didn’t feel the same way. “Her sister’s pimp and drug dealer.” The revulsion in the boy’s voice was unmistakeable. “He’s had a hard-on for Miss Evie since he started coming around.”
“That so?” Case asked, nudging her with his shoulder, probably trying to get her to look at him.
“He’s hit her.” Devin was apparently ready to sing like a canary, “A few times.”
“Evelyn?” Case was asking for the truth. A truth she wasn’t ready to admit to. “When’s the last time?” he finally asked Devin.
“Ahh, shit, it’s more like when doesn’t he? She tells him to leave her alone, he hits. She back talks him, he hits. She doesn’t come home– “
“Yeah, I get the fucking picture.” So much menace in Case’s voice. She was terrified of what he would do if he ever got ahold of Marcus. “When’s the last time you saw him?” he asked Devin.
Laughter met his words. “That punk was hauled off to jail yesterday. Brings too many drugs to our streets. ‘Bout time he pays the price.”
“What’s he charged with?” Case inquired.
“Pandering sex, solicitation of cocaine. Probably get a felony charge on that one, too.”
“Where’s your sister, Ev? Your nephew?” She shook her head. She didn’t know.
When she came home from the club the day before, they’d been gone. All their stuff, no note, nothing. They’d just left. She was afraid of where and what happened; her nephew was just two. He didn’t deserve the life he’d been given.
“Thanks, man,” she heard Case say to Devin. His hand left her body, and she had this unnatural fear that he was leaving her. She wrapped herself tighter, twisted her legs into his and screamed, but the sound actually came out as a hoarse whisper. “Please don’t leave me, Casey.”
Her tears poured down her face again. She was like a leaky faucet that just wouldn’t shut off and felt like crap because of it. Tired of the crying and the uncertainty, her body sagged against his when he told her, “I’m never fucking leaving you again, Kitten.”
Seeing Ev’s haggard look when she exited her building had Casey’s heart in his throat with fear. Terror and panic rolled off of her in waves, and he felt it as though it were his own. Leaving her that day had obviously been the biggest mistake he’d ever made.
When he held her and her tears immediately began to fall followed by her body shaking so intensely, he had to balance himself on his truck. He feared the worst. He wasn’t sure what that was yet, but he sure as shit was scared to death by it. He was glad her neighbor had approached them. He liked that she had someone genuinely trying to look out for her.
Nonetheless, what he found out had him seeing red. He could picture this Marcus character’s blood staining his hands, flowing in rivulets down the street before he would be done with him. First, he had to find out where he was being held and exactly what he’d done to Ev.
Someone was going to pay for her stark fear. The way she clung to him, begging him not to leave her cracked his scarred heart wide open for her.
“Come on, baby, get in. I’m taking you home.” At least, he hoped he still had a home. Decking his best friend wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but he figured if anyone understood his ragged emotions, it would be Dom.
The way she looked up at him worried him. Exhaustion etched every line of her face, and sadness overruled the sparkle in her eyes. Buckling her in, he ran around the front of the truck sliding into the driver’s seat, and they were off to the farm.
It was only a few minutes on the road, and Ev was unbuckling her seat belt, pushing up the center console, and curling up into a tiny, shaking ball at his side. Her head was on his lap, and her knees were pushed up to her chest to make herself as small as possible. Her little hands clutched his leg like a lifeline, almost as if she were afraid he was going to leave her.
He’d never regretted something as much as he did for not fighting against himself to show her the real him. For chickening out when she was finally opening up. Now they’d swapped roles. She was completely shut down, traumatized from God knows what, and he was in for the fight of his life to get her tell him what had happened.
“Tell me a story,” she whispered, her voice dried out from crying. She sounded so fucking tired.
Rubbing his free hand up and down her arm in a slow, soothing motion, he asked her, “What kind of story?” He just wanted to get her talking.
“Anything.”
Thinking about it, he knew now was the perfect time to tell her about himself; who he was and where he came from. “I sort of told you about my parents. What I didn’t tell you was that they a
re real God-fearing Christians, devout to the Lord. Before my brother was born, they worked as missionaries, going all over the world to instill their faith. By the time I came along, my siblings were as big of believers as my parents were.” Her fingers were drawing circles on his leg as he spoke. It was hypnotic. “I could never identify with our religion. I felt like it was wrong for me. I still don’t know why, but I have always felt like I was meant for something else.”
He remembered his brother and sister telling him he was going to Hell for not believing. “When I was old enough, I researched like crazy to find out if there really was a higher power. Being told it was true just wasn’t enough for me.” Casey paused looking down at Ev quickly, her breaths were shallow, and her eyelids kept fluttering up and down in rapid pace. She was trying to stay awake. He hadn’t lost her yet. “I had to have proof. I was a firm believer in if I couldn’t touch it or see it, it wasn’t real. I never tried to sway my family about it; I just wanted concrete proof that Heaven and Hell were there. That when I died I was going to the promised land. I never did find it.”
He laughed bitterly thinking of the distaste his parents expressed when he refused to blindly believe in something they couldn’t scientifically prove to be real. “When I enlisted, I hoped maybe with the danger I was in, it would help me finally understand my family’s need to believe in that higher being. I thought it would help me understand them.”
“Did it?” she asked sleepily.
“No. I wanted to be closer to my family, but they never showed affection while I was growing up, so I’m convinced that made it harder for me to connect to any of them. They pushed me away even more when I told them I was leaving for basic training. At first, I thought it was from fear of me getting hurt or killed. It wasn’t long before I realized it was shame.”
Ev rolled to her other side so she was facing his stomach. Tears were still bright in her eyes, and tracks covered her face. “They weren’t proud of you?”
He shook his head no. “I went back to see them after I lost my leg.” Pausing to take a breath. Memories of that time never failed to cause immense pain and anger at the same time. “I think my mom wanted to try and mend our relationship, but my dad kicked me out. Said I was a failure, and no son of his could be some cripple.”
Her sniffling had him looking down at her, wiping her tears away with his thumb. “Don’t cry for me, Kitten. Family isn’t always by blood. They can be chosen, and mine fucking rock.” Her small smile made him happy.
Finally arriving home, he noted Ace’s vehicle was gone, and Dee and Jax were in the yard with the chickens. Coming upon his cabin, he saw Dom sitting on his front step, waiting for him.
He rose as Case shut the truck off. A silent question written in his features—had he brought Ev home?
Nodding his head, it seemed as though his friend breathed a sigh of relief.
“Casey?” Fear was back in her voice.
“Yeah, Kitten?” His finger trailed her jaw lightly, hopefully soothing whatever she was feeling.
“I don’t want to be alone anymore.” Her voice cracking was his last straw. Pulling her into his arms, he climbed from the truck.
“She okay?” he heard Dom ask as he climbed the steps. Upon hearing his voice, she began to shake again. “Shit, what the hell happened?” Dom’s anger was palpable, and she felt it.
“Tone it back, man,” Case warned him for once.
“She need Dee?” He paused at Dom’s meaningful question. He hadn’t thought of it before, but it hit him like a ton of fucking bricks.
Was she raped?
The question began a sickening replay of all the times he’d seen women in third world countries during his service that had been violated in the most heinous ways possible.
Dom must have noticed the dread in his face. “Go, get her settled.”
Nodding, he carried her shaking form to his room and placed her on the bed. He drew the small afghan over her lithe body, hoping to warm her up and stop the shaking.
“Evelyn, look at me.” Her eyes were tightly closed. She peeked at him after a moment. “I’m going to make you some tea and get you some clean clothes, all right?”
Apprehension clouded her vision, and she was slow to nod. Wrapping the blanket snuggly around her, he left the room and made a beeline for the kitchen to turn the kettle on. Pulling a mug from the cupboard, he grabbed one of the herbal tea bags from the canister on the counter. As soon as the water was finished boiling, he poured her a cup mixing a small amount of honey in it, thinking she would need the boost the sugar was bound to give her.
Quietly entering back into the room, he found her eyes wide, sight unseeing. “Evelyn?” he called softly. Sitting beside her on the bed, he placed the tea on the small night table. “Can I help you sit up?” She nodded. Taking the cup when he gave it to her, she sipped a couple of small mouthfuls before handing it back to him.
“I’m so tired.” She sounded it, too.
“Want me to lay with you?” he asked, hoping she’d let him hold her. As soon as she nodded, he grabbed a t-shirt from his dresser, asking, “Can I help you change, or do you want me to leave?”
“Help me, please.” With no hesitance. He was shocked.
Taking her ripped sweater off, he had to swallow a groan because she was completely naked underneath. Her small breasts were the perfect size to fit his hands he was sure. Slipping the shirt over her head, he fought his desire off with thoughts of baseball statistics.
She lay back down so he could remove her pants, and what he saw forced his cravings for her body to the back burner as he witnessed the bruising at the junction of her thighs. Someone had forced themselves on her, and he couldn’t do fuck all about it until she told him what happened. He highly suspected it was that Marcus character judging by the way she reacted to just hearing his name.
Evelyn wanted to die when Casey helped her remove her clothes. Knowing he would see the evidence of Marcus’s assault had her skin crawling and her stomach in knots. She didn’t want to tell him at all but knew he had the right to the truth.
He didn’t comment about it, for which she was grateful, rather just asked if he could lay with her. She desperately needed his strength wrapped around her. When he didn’t climb into the bed immediately, she looked over her shoulder to see him undressing. His body was a work of art, all sculpted muscles and gleaming tan skin. Dark tattoos covered his shoulders and arms. The designs that stood out the most were the stars on his side right over his ribcage and on his right front shoulder. They were inked as just outlines, and for some reason, she felt like they were empty…missing something.
Her eyes darted away from him when he caught her, but a magnetic force drew them back almost immediately. A sensual smirk played on his lips, and his eyes sparkled in amusement. The scruff on his face gave him a sexy yet rugged appeal. There was just enough coverage that said he didn’t give a fuck whether he was shaven or not.
As he turned his back to her so he could sit on the bed, a gasp of shocked pain left her mouth at the sight of a scar from what was undoubtedly a bullet on the back of his shoulder. Without thought, her hand drifted to him tracing the jagged skin. He tensed, and she knew he was waiting for her questions. After their last bout of Q and A, she kept them to herself. She wanted him to tell her at his own pace.
Sitting in just his boxer briefs, she couldn’t help letting out a sigh of appreciation. He truly was beautiful. His dark hair and eyes gave him a mysterious appeal that was well-deserved. It made her want to unlock all of his secrets and expose him to all of hers.
She watched with rapt attention as he began the process of taking off his prosthesis. The pulling of Velcro from the strap around his thigh was almost deafening in the quiet of the room. Placing it against the night table, he began to slowly roll the protective sock down his thigh, over the ball of his knee, and off. Unveiling what looked like a painful stump, it was red as though he’d worked it too hard for too long.
Some of the skin looked dry and cracked. It was upsetting to see. Not because she couldn’t stomach the image, but because she couldn’t begin to imagine how much he went through to get where he was now. The surgeries and rehab must have seemed endless at a time when he probably wanted to disassociate with society.
After he had everything removed and put where he wanted, he grabbed a cream from the drawer of his night table. When he popped the cap, Ev jumped at the opportunity to help him.
“Can I?” she asked timidly, reaching her hand out.
He gave her a funny look like who does that but handed her the tube he was holding. Climbing from the bed, she kneeled in front of him. Almost intimidated by the rippling muscles in his thighs.
Popping the cap, she squirted a dollop into her palm. Rubbing her hands together to warm it up, she began massaging just above his knee where the redness started. Touching him with her fingers, she applied the cream gently and felt a light shiver run through him. Digging her thumbs into the tight knots she felt in the muscles, he moaned what sounded like a cross between pain and pleasure.
“This okay?” she asked quietly.
“So fucking okay,” he groaned, leaning back on his hands and watching her on the floor at his feet. Her fingers moved on their own as she met his eyes. They were hooded and shining with arousal.
Her offer of help went from wanting to know him better to a sexual awareness she hadn’t expected. With every dig of her fingers into his taught skin, he tensed, and she could see the outline of his cock twitching and slowly rising with his arousal.
Soon she was glued to watching him grow. The more she touched, the larger he became. Eventually, she began to squirm, her thighs pressing together as liquid heat pooled in her panties. She wanted this man with everything in her. She was just terrified she wasn’t ready.
Deciding it was now or never because there was no appropriate time to tell the man you wanted to be intimate with that you were violated, Ev blurted out, “He forced himself on me.” She glanced down at his leg, not wanting to see the dangerous look that would surely enter his eyes. The longer she waited, the deeper her fingers dug into his skin until they were cramping.