I open the leg pocket with trembling hands and haul out the knife. I look at its matte black blade. I’ve never seen anything like it. As I flick it before me, a shudder ripples through my chest.
“How many people have you killed with this?”
He gives me a glare through heavily lidded eyes that, despite his weakened state, is so filled with danger it makes me shiver. That is obviously a line I’m not supposed to cross.
I march off to the fireplace, opening one of the thick glass doors and sticking the blade in the fire for a few seconds. Then I walk back to the couch and sit down next to him. As I hold the tip to the wound, the blade is still smoking hot. Christian glances at what I’m doing and jerks away.
“For fuck’s sake! Let it cool first!”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to—”
“No! I can take it.” I blush and wait. After a while I let the side of the blade rest against the back of my hand. It has cooled off.
It’s time.
Christian
Her hand trembles and her face is pale. She lifts the knife and aims its tip at the wound’s entrance. Then she lowers it again. The surge of adrenaline when I thought she was going to fucking cauterize my shoulder woke me up pretty good and I’m a lot less tired than I’ve been these last hours.
“Ker, sweetheart, are you sure you’re up to this? It’s not as easy as you think, to cut someone.”
She waves the knife in front of my face and I can’t help a tiny flinch. I don’t think she has the slightest idea just how sharp that thing is!
“I’m not your sweetheart, Christian! How dare you when I’m sitting here with a knife? Besides, I have cut you before. And shot you.”
I purse my lips as I regard her. My little tigress. Closing my eyes, I lean my head back. I can’t help but smile ever so little. She’s coming back to herself. “Go ahead, then, tough girl.”
When still nothing happens, I open my eyes again and peek at her. The tip of the knife hovers by the wound.
“Don’t think. Just do. And you’ll see that afterward you’ll have that tingling feeling in the pit of your belly, like when you come so hard that you almost lose it.” I shoot her a leery grin to piss her off enough to get her to just do it.
It works like a fucking charm.
Her gaze darkens. Biting her lip, she pushes the tip into the wound, pressing it deeper and deeper. I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut, it feels as if she holds a torch to my skin and I can’t help the shudder that wracks my body. When I look again, the knife is out and my shoulder feels a little less strained already. A stream of grayish, dirty-looking pus is seeping from where she punctured me. It’s not as much as I’d have thought, but it seems to make the difference.
“You’re such a piece of shit,” she exclaims and gets up. The knife clatters as she drops it on the table.
I cock my head and look at her. She is so sexy when her eyes flare. I smirk as I get up off the couch, grabbing the strips of sheet, pushing them to the leaking wound. When she sees me standing, she takes a couple of steps back, her eyes darting between mine, my naked chest, and then back up. I know I scare her, and I know that’s not the only thing she’s feeling when she gives me that look. She wants me too, but she’s gonna keep denying that to her last breath.
I start toward the bathroom and Kerry steps to the side. I saw a pack of antibiotics there when I rummaged through her cabinet before. Is it already a couple of days ago? Whatever they were prescribed for, it can’t be wrong to try them.
Before I pull open the door I stop and look at her. “Was it as good as I said it would be?”
The slap is hard, unexpected, and probably well-earned.
I touch my burning cheek as I lick my lower lip. It tastes salty from her palm.
“That felt good,” she snarls.
I pull the door open. “I’m sure it did, Ker.” I flash her a grin and wink.
She puts her hands on her hips and glares back at me. “You’re such a prick!”
I raise an eyebrow, holding her gaze. “I know.” Leaving the flushed little woman behind me, I lock the door and exhale on a shudder. All this touching, and all this unexpected closeness, has made me itch. My groin aches and suddenly I’m anything but tired. I don’t need her to see the thick bulge in my pants. I’m sure she’d freak out if she saw the urge to pull her to me and ravage her that I must radiate.
I need this woman so fucking much.
Chapter 4
Kerry
I don’t know why he’s being such an ass again. I was only trying to help. My stomach is in a tight knot from the tension of having to cut into his wound and then the charged afterplay. There was something in his gaze that I recognize all too well. I’ve seen it before. I’ve lived through the consequences. They were spectacular, and devastating.
Those nights when he came to me, the hunger, the possessive look in his eyes – the memory will never leave me. It still makes my gut clench with want.
I’m utterly thankful when Cece wakes up and gives me something to occupy my body and mind with. Except my mind isn’t where my body is. I can’t help thinking about his heated skin, the glint in his warm brown eyes, and about what the hell he’s doing in my bathroom for so long.
I almost jump out of my skin when the door finally opens. I’m feeding Cecilia an apple I’ve cut into slices and I’m thankful to keep her between us.
There are new, clean strips covering the wound, and apart from that he’s naked from the waist up. My eyes are inadvertently drawn to the thick string of dark hair that continues along his stomach and then disappears beneath the waistband of his pants. My dad’s pants, but damn, they look good, hanging low on Christian’s hips. He gives me an unreadable glance and slowly pulls the flannel shirt back on, leaving it unbuttoned. I avert my gaze. I do not want to look at this man’s naked chest. It does things to me, makes me ache in all the wrong places. I have to remember what he is, what he’s done. I fell for him once, so hard, but that was before I knew him.
Instead of coming to the couch where we sit, he walks to my bedroom and closes the door behind him.
I’m up and off of the couch the same moment the door clicks closed. No way! I grab the apple slices and put them on the counter, well out of her reach. Tossing Cecilia a doll, I then dash through the room and rip open the door.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He’s lying on my bed. He’s lying on my bed! His shirt is still unbuttoned, and I stop flat. “Get out!”
He lies with his hand behind his head, glancing lazily at me, his cheeks slightly flushed. “I just had to get you alone for a second.”
“W—why?”
“Come here.” He crooks a finger and bids me closer. I take a hesitant step toward him.
“What?”
Gripping my wrist, he pulls me to him. His hand is warm, strong, and dry. “Please just sit.”
Against my better judgement I hesitantly sit on the very edge of the bed.
“I was a prick. I admit. I just felt for a moment there was something there… Something more.” His voice falters.
My heart makes an unhealthy jump. There was. There is. How can I ever get out of this spell?
“Look,” I say and swallow hard, my thoughts a tangled mess. “I guess we can be moderately civilized as it is, being stuck under the same roof and all…” I squirm and adjust a little on the uncomfortable wooden edge of the bed. “But something more… I think you misunderstood, Christian.”
He still holds my wrist, and I haven’t pulled away. Why haven’t I pulled away? I look him over, wishing things were different, wishing I could lay my head on his chest, listen to his heartbeat, his breathing, feel his warmth. I have missed him so much, despite everything. It’s not rational, and I don’t know if it will ever go away.
“I get that now,” he says tiredly. “I know what you’re about to say, but can I please sleep for an hour on your bed? I’m so, so tired.”
&nbs
p; Please again.
I exhale erratically, my skin scorched from his touch. “Fine. But in an hour, I’ll throw you out.”
He smiles, then pulls me toward him, lifts his head slightly and places a featherlight kiss on the back of my hand. “Thank you.”
I jerk my hand out of his grip, jumping up from my sitting position.
He has closed his eyes. “Too much?” he mumbles.
I don’t answer and slam the door shut behind me. Yes, too much. But it’s not his fault. I’m the one who has lost their mind!
Cece has lost interest in the doll and is playing with a jigsaw puzzle on the floor, slamming the large pieces of wood against each other. Something is different. I rub the back of my hand again and look around me. I don’t know wha—
It’s quiet outside. The storm is over.
The symbolism doesn’t pass me unnoticed. It’s over outside. I believe it’s over inside too.
Or did it just begin in earnest?
I need to make us dinner, but I’m a mess. I keep rubbing at the spot where his lips touched my skin. It’s like a twitch. I can’t control it. My heart is still pounding. I’m in shreds. Like his damn shirt. Damn, damn, damn shirt! Unable to focus on anything, I finally manage to boil potatoes, mash them and cut some ham. I’m out of vegetables. I should make my way to the delivery box. The box. I realize I have no car. That’s an hour’s walk on a sprained ankle. And Ray? My heart drops. Did Ray get it? Did he call the police for me? Will cops come here now that the storm is over? Oh God, oh no. That can’t happen.
I don’t think that will go over well. For who, I don’t know, but it will be a disaster! My knees fold and I slide to the floor, trembling and nauseous.
Numb, and with sluggish moves, I pull myself together, serve Cecilia and put some on a plate for me, but I can’t eat. She tries her best to hit her mouth. I usually help her, but now I just sit and stare, fighting to not cry in front of her. I don’t want to worry her.
“Mama?”
I jerk and look at my wonderful little child. She’s holding out her fork for me, the piece of ham falling off it as I look. I smile and pick it up off the table, putting it in my mouth.
“Thank you, love.” I caress her cheek and when I look up Christian is standing next to me. His face is a little less pale, and his eyes aren’t as dull as they were a couple of hours ago. Something dark rises in me.
“What do you want?” I snarl and then the words just burst right out of my chest. “What do you mean when you say you want me? What do you mean ‘want’? Do you want my… body? Do you want us to get married? What the hell do you mean?” Cecilia has stopped eating and stares at us, her eyes widening and filling with tears, but I can’t comfort her right now. I’m frozen. I can barely breathe.
“Eat up!” I hiss at her. Her plump little lower lip juts out and begins to tremble.
Christian glares at me and then goes to sit next to her. Cooing, chasing a piece of ham on the plate with the fork and then feeding it to her, he makes her giggle.
I begin to cry again. “I hate you!” I bellow.
Christian throws me a dark gaze and then wipes some mashed potato off her cheek before he gives her another forkful of ham and potatoes.
I stand so abruptly the chair topples and falls to the floor behind me. “Stop feeding her! She’s not your daughter! You have no right—”
“For fuck’s sake, what’s gotten into you? Get a grip!” He gives me a furious glare and helps Cece off the chair. “I’m gonna talk to Mommy a little, hon.”
My heart rate picks up as he stands and walks over to me. He grips hard around my wrist. Too hard. “Come on, get it off your chest, whatever it is, but don’t take it out on her.” He pulls me with him and forces me to come closer.
“Wh—what are you doing?” I stutter, my heart leaping to my throat.
“Take it out on me, Kerry, on someone closer to your own size. I can take it. Not on her.” He nods at our daughter and I have to swallow against the sudden lump in my throat.
“Mama?” she says, her little voice quavering.
“Do your job.”
I stare at him, frowning, then back at her as I compose myself and smile through the tears. “Mommy’ll be back in a second, honey. It’s all right.”
It’s not all right! Nothing will be all right again!
Christian pulls at my arm and I stumble behind him until we’re alone in my bedroom again. He shoves me inside and pulls the door almost closed, leaving a sliver open.
“What’s with all these fuckin’ questions all of a sudden? What’s the matter with you?” His lips are a thin line and his eyes gleam in the dusky room.
“What do you want with me?” I snarl. “With everything you’ve done to me, what you’ve put me through, there’s no way, never, I’m letting you ‘have me’. You coming here and… It’s too late for everything. You fucked it all up.”
“And I’ve never done anything good for you? Never given you anything?” His voice is hard, his eyes charcoal black and lethal.
“No!” I scream.
“Keep your voice down! Not even her, then?”
For a moment, I can’t say anything, a cloud of fury boiling up in my chest. “You didn’t ‘give’ her to me,” I snap. “She happened anyway. It’s nothing you can take credit for!” I turn away from him with a sob. I don’t want to cry in front of him, but there’s nowhere I can go when the tears begin to fall again.
“Ker, I’ve told you already, in so many fucking ways, that I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to do. And life is something to value a hell of a lot more than you do. Once it’s gone it’s just… gone.”
“Why can’t you leave me alone?” I sob. “Why did you have to be who you are?” I could bite off my tongue. Why did I have to say that? I sink down on the edge of the bed, hiding my face in my hands, completely drained, trembling with exhaustion.
He settles next to me. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About Cecilia. I missed you so fucking much. It’s killing me that I fucked everything up.”
I let my hands fall into my lap and look up at him. Even sitting down, his hulking appearance towers over me. “I went to see your boss,” I say.
“Oh, I know. That was fucking stupid.”
“I had to. I carried your child. You showed up at my home. I thought you came to kill me. I needed to know. Then he said he couldn’t control you, that you were going to do whatever you wanted anyway.”
“He said that? The fucker!”
I don’t answer. His presence makes my whole body tingle and I jerk when I feel his hand on my shoulder.
“Was there ever a time when things could have been different?” he asks quietly.
“A… what?”
“Was there a time when everything wasn’t too late?”
I stare at him. “No, there wasn’t,” I snarl. “Even if you hadn’t tried to murder me, you’re still a monster I could never touch again once I learned who you really are.”
“I don’t believe you, Ker. I know you felt something too.” His eyes darken again. “You’re lying. To yourself. To everyone. That’s how you’re gonna raise my daughter?”
I open and close my mouth several times as I try to come up with a reply. Suddenly, he stands and opens the door. I look at his back as he leaves the room.
“Fucking fine parents she has, then!” I shout after him. “One murdering mafia goon, and one liar!” I dart up, slam the door shut and fall onto the bed, sobbing, my sorrow over what I am, what I’ve become, raw, eating at my heart, at my soul and my conscience. This is not who I want to be. I scream into my pillow, the sound hoarse and tearing at my throat.
I don’t like who I am anymore.
Finally, when there are no more tears, I stop the sobbing and listen instead. What are they doing? I wonder what time it is. My stomach grumbles and reminds me I haven’t eaten. A sudden panic makes my chest clench. It’s too quiet. They’ve left! I’ve been bad and they’ve left me! I’m up and off of the
bed in a fraction of a second, shoving the door open and bursting out into the living room
They’re sitting next to each other on the couch, a little bowl of raisins in Cecilia’s lap. A fire is crackling peacefully and he’s reading to her. About Sammy the Fire truck. Her favorite book at the moment. Christian looks up and gives me a warning glare.
Cece doesn’t look up at all, she points to the picture. “Sammy.”
Christian looks back to our daughter, smiling at her. “And what did Sammy do?”
“Wouu faie.”
“Yes, he did,” he answers, without having a clue what she was saying.
My heart pounds so hard it hurts. He’s taken her. Right before my eyes. He didn’t even have to fight. I gave her to him. I’m a freak. I’ve turned into a monster. I’ve turned into everything I’ve ever accused him of being. With a sob, I turn on my heel and dart back into the bedroom. Slamming the door closed behind me, I fall onto the bed again.
The bed sinks as he sits down on the edge, making me jerk in surprise. I never heard the door open.
“Go away!” I rasp, my throat too clenched for proper words to pass.
“Ker.” His voice is unexpectedly tender. “What’s the matter with you? I honestly thought, earlier today, we had come farther than this. Suddenly, we’re back on square one. What the fuck happened?”
“She hates me,” I sob. “I hurt her and she hates me, and she prefers you over me.”
He snorts. “That was nothing. She’s already forgotten it ever happened.”
“I’ve never—” My voice breaks. “I’ve never yelled at her. I hurt her!”
“So, she’s a fuckin’ lucky child, then, if that was her first yelling. It happened, suck it up.”
I’m hugging the pillow, afraid of his closeness, and even more afraid of being left alone with myself. “When are you letting us go?”
“When you get over yourself and take your asses back to civilization.”
“I— You—” Is he gonna let us go?
“Ker, you’re not the only person in the world who’s been hurt. You have to move on.”
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