by Lauren Dane
“How about some hot chocolate? Or tea? Have you been sleeping well? Stupid question.”
She took a deep breath and blurted out, “Do you want to know? The story, I mean?”
He sat with her. Saw the strain on her features. He wanted to know so very much, but he knew it was stressful for her to relive it too. “Yes. But first, have you eaten? You look pale and a little thin.”
“It’s only been two days.”
“Don’t get peevish with me, missy. It’s been four since we connected and two before that since I actually saw you. I’m agitated that you’ve been alone dealing with this as it is. Now, you look pale and if I know you, you’ve been running yourself ragged. Have you eaten?”
She smiled and it made him feel better. “I was getting ready to order food up when you came. You came.” She blinked away tears and he pulled her legs up into his lap.
“I did. I will always be here for you. Get that through your head right now.” He leaned to grab the room service menu and flip through it. She needed taking care of and he was going to do just that.
“Anything good?”
She nodded. “Get the pie. I had the lemon meringue last night.”
He grinned. “All right. What else?”
“I want the chicken and potatoes. They’re real, not that powdered stuff. A bowl of soup, whatever they have is fine. And pie.”
He called it all up, adding the French dip for himself with some extras and a few beers.
“They said about half an hour.”
“Erin said to me, when she dropped me at the airport, that secrets hurt. And that it was time I let go of the stuff that was hurting me. You’ve been patient, letting me tell you on my own terms. You can’t know what that means to me.”
“I love you. There’s nothing else I can do. It means so much that you’d share. I know it’s not easy.” He took her hand.
“It’s not pretty either.”
“It’s not on you. You understand that, right? The stuff that happened to you when you were growing up was not your fault. I don’t think that and I want you to stop it too.”
“I’m trying. So when I was ten or so, my mom came back to town and we made a go of it for a while. She had a job at the grocery store. We had a little one-bedroom apartment over the hardware store. It wasn’t fancy, but she was with me.
“And then she just wasn’t. She didn’t come home. Two days later she hadn’t come home and we were out of food and her boss came over and saw I was on my own and they called child services. Again. They put me in foster care, this time in the next town over, Harperville. A few months later my aunt, my mom’s sister, came to the school and told me my mother had overdosed and died. I didn’t know enough then to ask any real questions. I just knew for sure that I’d never have a home. My great-grandmother was too sick to take me in and as I said, my other relatives wouldn’t. Later, when I was sixteen or so, I confronted her—my aunt, I mean. I wanted details. It had been a . . . rough time for me. She told me my mother had died after selling herself for a dirty bag of heroin. That they’d found her body in the gutter where she’d belonged.”
He sucked in a breath, trying hard not to let his rage show. She didn’t need that.
“So you know, I came out to L.A. that next year after I’d saved up every cent I could, believing my mother had abandoned me. Believing no one wanted me.” Emotion made her voice thick. He squeezed her hand tight. He wanted her.
“So two days ago one of my foster fathers came into the shop. He’d been looking for me—and I’ll tell you that story after we eat. Anyway, he and his wife had been looking for me. But first, they found my mother. Who wasn’t dead at all, but in a mental institution where she’d been for years.”
Her voice broke.
“I thought I’d cried it all out of my system. God knows I’ve probably gotten dehydrated from it since I found out. Anyway, she’s had a lifetime of trouble. They knew it, Jonah. My family knew she was alive and they told me she was dead and had abandoned me. I don’t understand why. Anyway, Mike and Bonnie visited her a few weeks ago. They had told her I was dead too. Back when I was fifteen. I can’t even tell you. She tried to kill herself then. And several times since. That’s why she’s here. She’s a self-harm risk and I guess the usual treatments don’t work on her. She asked them to find me and tell me she was alive and wanted to see me.”
He blew out a breath. “Wow. That’s some soap opera shit right there.”
“I know. I’ve been reeling. Everything I thought about my childhood, well, it’s not the same. None of it is what I thought and I don’t know how to process it. So I’ve been avoiding processing it. I feel like if I really face it I’m going to fall the fuck apart. What if I’m crazy too? Schizophrenia runs in families. I’ve got a family full of addicts and fuckups. What if it’s in me right now, just waiting?”
“Have you talked with a doctor about it?” He kept his voice calm, knowing she was scared.
“Not yet. I had to go through a background check to see her. I’m meeting with her doctor first, before they let me meet with her. But I don’t know that it’ll be the right time to ask about that. Or even if I’m ready to know yet.”
A knock sounded the arrival of the food, which was set up quickly. He pointed a finger at the table and she rolled her eyes, but got up and moved over, settling as she sipped the tea and began to eat.
“When I was fourteen I’d been placed, temporarily, in a far-removed family member’s home. It was through family court. They really only wanted me for the money and, well, apparently for other things. That’s where . . . well, the place I got the worst of the bad dreams from.”
“Where you were raped.”
She flinched but nodded. “A teacher at school noticed the big change in my behavior and called my case worker. They removed me the next day and put me in a halfway house.”
He knew enough about the system to know quite often halfway houses were the last resort placements for older kids who had been in the system long term and for kids with criminal and severe behavioral issues.
“And then the Thompsons came along. I was sent there and they gave me my own room. They had a daughter who was nearly two years older than I was. They were so good to me. Bonnie—that’s Mrs. Thompson—was a nurse. She had this way about her. They left me alone when I needed it. Let me lock my door when I went to bed. After eight months there, the longest placement I’d ever had, they asked me if I wanted to live with them permanently. I was going to have a family. My god. You have no idea what that felt like. I had a family. People who wanted me. So they started the process. My biological family were pretty much like yeah whatever, take her off our hands. But it’s a long process. My grades improved. I made friends. I had a cat named Ginger. For the first time in my entire life I was happy every single day.”
She ate for a while as dread tore at his insides.
“You don’t have to say anything else.”
“Yes, yes, I do. So Missy, that was their daughter, she was a cheerleader and had convinced them to let her go to cheerleading camp at a nearby private college. It was a summer program, the students slept in the dorms with their teammates. She had classes and stuff on tumbling and that cheerleadery jazz.
“And one day she didn’t come back from dinner. They ate in the residential dining halls but it wasn’t that far from their dorms or practice field.
“For two weeks they combed the area. They waited for a ransom call. They went on television begging for her safe return. They found her body. It was bad. She’d been tortured.” She had to stop, putting her fork down and mopping her face with her napkin. “What had been done to her, well, no one should have to have endured it. The Thompsons just sort of checked out. One day, a month after they found her, Mrs. Thompson picked me up from school, took me to the hospital’s social worker and said the state had to take me back. They weren’t going to adopt me. They weren’t going to keep me as a foster placement. She gave me all the money in her wallet, hu
gged me and walked away.”
He had to stand, the rage pulsing through him was nearly too much. He clenched and unclenched his fists.
“These people are scum, Raven. They had no right!”
“No, they didn’t. But they lost a child. I heard over the next year that their marriage had broken up and they’d lost their home and had moved away. I’d heard here and there that Mike had developed a problem with alcohol. That next placement was my last. I’d been saving up money since I got my first job at fifteen. I was going to buy a car with it. Such a normal thing and something else that I’d never have in Happy Bend or anywhere else in Arkansas. A few months later I packed up everything I owned, which filled one suitcase. I left my sketchbooks in my great-grandmother’s garage and she sent them to me a year later. I never looked back. Except for when I came back to her funeral. When my aunt told my mother I was dead, she used the story of Missy’s death. She didn’t just tell my mother I was dead, Jonah, she told her I’d been tortured, raped and murdered. I will not rest until that’s been dealt with.”
“Jesus, baby. I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged. “I’ve never told that story to anyone. It’s been like a sore in my belly for so long it’s been what I thought was normal. But Mike Thompson came to me at the shop. He apologized. He and Bonnie have been looking for me for ages. I have closure on that. I needed that. And I have it and it’s been important. He flew out here with me. They live just about an hour away. They invited me to stay with them. But I had to do it without them. But thank God I don’t have to do it without you. That is if you’re still, you know, if you still want to be with me after I told you all that stuff.”
He knelt in front of her chair and hugged her, his face buried in her chest. “I love you so fucking much it should be scary. I wanted to be with you before I knew this. I want to be with you now. I want to make this better for you and I can’t. I want to punch people and sue them and make them sorry they treated you so poorly.”
She hugged him back, her heart pounding against where he laid his head on her chest. “I’m a terrible person, but that makes me feel better. Jonah?”
He pulled back and looked up into her face. “Yes, baby?”
She smiled. “I love it when you use endearments. If you tell anyone, I’ll only deny it. I love you too. I don’t know that you’re getting as good a deal as I am. But there is it. I’m so weary. You make me less so.”
He grinned. “That’s a pretty damned good deal. I’ll take it.”
They talked for a while longer. He watched her while she ate, making sure she cleaned her plate. Though she was nauseated from the telling, she had been letting herself get run down and she needed the energy and calories. It also made her feel better that he was there to frown at her and tip his chin at the next bite to be taken.
“I’m going to take a shower. Why don’t you get snuggled into bed?”
“Sadly, these showers are of the very small variety or I’d offer to get your back.”
“You’re here. I’m here. That’s what matters. I’ll let you get my back when we get home. I’ll join you for a snuggle when I’m done.”
She went into the bedroom adjoining the smaller common space and pulled the blankets back. Two weeks ago, while staying at his house, she’d stopped locking the door. The first night she’d been awake pretty much the whole time. Dreams intruded when she did get to sleep. But the next night she was there, she tried it again and that time she slept.
She hadn’t told him because she didn’t want to get his hopes up that she’d be able to transition into his room soon. And she was tired of it. Tired of the things that had sort of frozen her life into a ball of anxiety. She wanted to be with him and so she pushed herself bit by bit, and the last time she’d stayed at his house, right before Carrie had come, she’d slept with her door open a crack.
And she’d slept all night long.
So when he came out of the shower, she patted the mattress as she drank in the sight of him. So masculine, even in sleep pants and a T-shirt. He smiled and slid in with her, pulling her close.
“Thank you for coming. I know I said it before, but I want to say it again. It means so much to me.”
“I’m here for you. Carrie would have wanted me to come to you, you know. She likes you. She’d be heartbroken to imagine you were here alone all so I could have taken her out to dinner and a movie or whatever.”
“Family is important, Jonah. Carrie doesn’t need to know about this. All she ever needs to know about me is that I value your commitment to her and that I will always expect you to put her first. That’s your job. And memories are made from dinners and movies. That’s more important and you can’t say a damned thing that would make me disagree.”
“Stubborn.” He ran his fingertips over her collar.
“I have to be to keep up with you. I had to take it off. At the airport I mean.”
“The collar?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
He laughed, pulling her even closer, which was just fine with her. He gave off heat like a furnace and he made her feel safe. Plus he smelled good.
“Don’t apologize. It’s not because I think you need it to remember what we have. Also it’s the airport, you have to do it and I certainly don’t expect you to do otherwise.”
“It helped. The collar, I mean. When I felt alone or overwhelmed I’d touch it. Or when I was lost, it would be there against my skin. Reassuring. Strong. Like you.”
He hummed, kissing the top of her head. “I like that. You should sleep. I’ll leave when you fall asleep and lock the door. There’s a bed in the couch. I’ll be fine.”
“The last eight times I slept at your house I started experimenting. At first I’d unlock the door when I woke in the middle of the night. Then I left it unlocked, which was hard, I admit. But then I left it unlocked and slept just fine. The last time I left the door open a crack. I want you in here with me. I can’t promise I’ll be able to do it, but I want to try. I want to sleep next to you. I need that. Especially tonight.”
He moved so that she was on her back and he loomed over her. “Really?” He kissed her softly.
“Yeah.”
“Then I’ll have to make you nice and tired, good and relaxed, so you’ll sleep well.” The flash of that grin made things tighten up. Her nipples, her clit. Her skin was extra sensitive with him so close.
“Yay.”
He kissed her again. A slow, deep, meandering kiss. His tongue slid over her bottom lip just before he nipped it. She moaned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Holding on.
He slowly unbuttoned her shirt, petting over her skin, bringing her to life in a way only he could. She gave over to him immediately because things were better when she did. Because he took away all the anxiety and worry and he made it all right.
“Love these tits.” He pinched her nipples, tugged at the hoops in them until she writhed into his touch.
She managed to get the muscle control to grab the hem of his shirt and pull it off, tossing it away somewhere. She hissed when she rose up and they were skin to skin. The heat of him was so good.
She licked over his chest. “I can pierce you. If you like.” She ran the edge of her teeth over his left nipple, the one he favored. The one that made his cock jump in her hand where she’d shoved it down the front of his sleep pants.
“Yeah?”
“Mm. Yes.”
She ran her nails down his sides. She still had one last session to do on his back to finish up the shading and he’d be done. She was careful not to dig her nails into the muscles there, though she wanted to. Though he made a rather delightful groan when she did. He needed to be totally healed first.
Then she’d scratch her nails down his back so he’d know he was all hers.
“That smile you’re wearing strikes fear in my heart.”
She laughed, her head tipping back, exposing her throat to his hot, openmouthed kisses. “I was just thinking about how I’m going to m
ark your back up with my nails so no other ladies can get a taste. You’re all mine.”
He laughed, nipping the delicate skin of her neck. “I’m all yours already. Not like any other ladies will be around me with my shirt off to see anyway.”
“Oh, well done. I like that answer.”
“It’s true.” He reared up long enough to pull her pants and underwear off and kick his own free as well. When he returned he lay on her, all his weight for a short period of time. Skin to skin. Both groaned at how good it was.
“I never understood what it was to be like this with anyone. I heard people talk about the deep connection they had while they were having sex and I thought it was bullshit. Sex is great and you can feel close to your partner, sure, but this? What I feel every time I touch you? Nothing else compares.”
He kissed her long and slow again, seducing her as she let herself fall under his spell. She was safe with him. No matter how much he excited her or stoked her desire, she could trust him with the barest parts of herself.
He licked her nipples and she sucked a breath, arching into his mouth as his hands found her hips and held her just where he wanted her to be.
He nibbled and licked as she was helpless to do anything but hold on. So she did.
“I need you a whole lot right now,” she managed to say. “I want you inside.”
He pulled back enough to look into her face. “Hands and knees.”
She rolled and got into position. Once he got behind her, she leaned into his thighs because that’s how he liked it. He thrust into her pussy so fast she nearly choked when she sucked in a breath.
He kept a pace that pleased him. He wanted to pull out and make her suck his cock before he let her come. He wanted to come on her tits and make her finger herself to orgasm. So much. But she’d opened herself up, told him some things that left him sure he needed to keep those things on deck for another time. That night he wanted to possess her, to let her know she was his to protect and cherish. It’s what they both needed.
She was so tight and wet around him as she thrust back in the small amount of space the position allowed. She essentially bounced back on his cock, her ass against his thighs.