Disorderly
Page 8
That’s when I’m rammed into the brick wall.
A large hand covers my mouth and I’m lifted in the air by the forearm of my attacker.
“You’re not going to scream, are you, baby?” My eyes flood with tears as I turn my head to the side. “Rora.”
Wyatt.
It registers then, which shocks me even more. He is erected and built to rip people apart and cut them up into tiny pieces. There is nothing “common” or, my favorite word of late, “normal” about him. I didn’t listen to my voice of reason, something I should be a pro at. That this man led me to be attracted to him just to get under my skin and take me to Jerry.
“Wrap your legs around me,” Wyatt rumbles softly. It must be a tact of his, the silky, smooth tone that he radiates to gain trust.
And I’m a sucker for it.
I shake my head as I start to kick at his thighs. His hand loosens from my mouth and travels down to the hallows of my neck. “I’m not going to assassinate you.”
The familiar conversation summons me to face him. The darkness hides his face but not his outline. The broad contour of his shoulders and neck are below me, making me feel vulnerable and completely screwed.
His course fingers skim my collarbone and across to the other side, launching my heart out of my chest.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he coos. “Wrap your legs around me.” I don’t until his voice deepens to a tone I haven’t heard yet. “Now.”
I do what he says, crossing my ankles together to keep from falling. He nestles his large frame between my thighs, sending goosebumps prickling at my skin as my back is pressed further into the brick wall.
“Please let me go,” I beg, not recognizing my own voice.
His fingers trail back up my neck and cups my chin before he speaks again. “Why are you running?”
“Don’t you know?”
“Obviously not if I’m asking.” His face gets closer to mine, and I lean back across the brick wall to keep my space. “Why are you scared of me?”
My hands wrap around my stomach. “I don’t trust you.”
I can feel his breath stroke my lips. “Good, trust no one. Everyone is a fuck up anyways,” he alludes. “But me.”
“And I’d do that because…”
He lets a moment of silence sweep between us before he continues. “Because I’d never physically hurt you.”
“Still not satisfying.”
Wyatt’s hands find my waist. “Who are you running from?”
“You at the moment,” I snap.
“Yeah, isn’t that something?”
I push on his chest to get some space. “Let go.”
“I buy you food twice and you’re making me feel like I’m the stalker here.”
“And I thanked you twice,” I counter.
He leans closer to me, claiming my space, and I shiver in response. “Are you cold?”
On the contrary, I’m hot as shit right now and forcing my hormones to calm the fuck down. I shake my head in response, and I can hear his smile in his tone. “I’ll take that the shiver was because of me then.”
“You would, you arrogant asshole,” I reply.
A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. I can feel it brushing against my chest. “Trying to make a point here, baby.”
“What, that you can tackle like a linebacker?” His face nestles in my neck, and I close my eyes at his contact. My body reacts to him, but my brain is telling it to concentrate on the situation at hand.
He just chased me.
Found me in the spiderweb of alleys and slammed me into a brick wall.
Now he won't let me go.
“I can do more than that,” he deadpans.
“Can you put me down?”
“Why, so you can run?” he says, his lips barely brushing over my flesh, but I feel it. “I kinda like you up here.” He groans softly. “I’m taking you home.”
“I can’t,” I retort quickly.
He pulls his face from my neck and looks up toward me. “Now we’re getting somewhere. There better be a fantastic fucking explanation or I’m going to do a lot more to get you to soften to me.” His hand appears at my thigh, sending tremors of yearning through every nerve ending in my body.
“There was a letter,” I deadpan.
He continues to trace a path closer to inside of my legs. “Mhm..”
“It was…from someone I don’t want to have any contact with.”
“Ex-boyfriend?” His fingers are so close to me that I know he can feel heat forming from my lust for him.
“No.”
He suddenly loosens his grip on me, letting my feet hit the ground before stepping away. Lacing his fingers with mine, he leads me out of the murky alley without saying another word. “What are you doing?”
He doesn’t answer me, just walks ahead of me with me in tow, eyes averted ahead. Once we hit the street, he looks over at me and halts. His gaze darts to my feet.
“You fucking ran barefoot?”
“Apparently, I did, Sherlock Holmes.”
He scoops me up in one sweep and turns back to the direction of my place.
“I can walk,” I complain, pushing against his chest.
He tightens his grip around my thighs. “And cut your foot on glass? Nah, I don’t think an ER trip was something we both had in mind tonight.”
“Wyatt, please.”
“Nope.” And with that, I sulk in his arms, pressed up against his hard chest. His long fingers loosen around my legs, carrying me effortlessly down the street like the damsel in distress that I am. I peer at Wyatt, the stubble on his cheeks longer than I remembered, his eyes still narrowed.
After a few silent moments, I clear my throat. “What are you doing out here?”
“I was out on business.”
I cross my arms like a child. “So only you are allowed to ask the questions?”
“For the time being.”
“The fixing car business doesn’t seem to be a midnight job if I remember correctly.”
“Neither is chasing women in the middle of night, but hey, I like to keep it interesting.”
I wiggle in his arms. “You can let me go now.”
I see a smirk appear on his face. “Does my little assassin not like me talking about other women?”
“Aww, that would appear to look like I care. Isn’t that cute?”
He shifts me in his arms as we turn a corner. “Never had any problems before.” Before I can shoot back, he continues. “Do you eat?”
“Yes.”
He pulls me to his body and away as though he’s using me as a dumbbell. “You’re too light.”
I tsk. “What do you do bench, over a hundred and fifty pounds every day?”
“I used to.”
“Yeah. And I was a pageant queen.”
He glances at me. “Were you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I was too busy racing the neighborhood kids with my big wheel.”
His face softens. “Following in your dad’s footsteps?”
I shrug. “I guess, I haven’t since that big wheel though.” Wyatt stops, placing me down, and I notice that we are standing in front of my apartment building. “I’m not going in there,” I confess, staring at the entrance like a three-headed monster.
“I’m going to check out your apartment.” He pauses briefly, pondering my frozen position. “Then you’re going to tell me what happened.” He goes to open the double wide glass doors and waits for me to walk through them.
If it gets him to get the fuck out of here then fine.
Knowing defeat for the moment, I walk through to the elevators, not waiting for him to follow. They open immediately for us, and I saunter in, hitting my floor. The door closes and tense chemistry fills the air, suffocating me. I can’t deny it, it’s there. No use in ignoring it, but it doesn’t mean that I trust him.
Plus I have a baseball bat and knives at the apartment.
The chime of the door sounds and the doors open. Wyatt leaves first and stops outside the doors. “Which one is yours?”
I point to my still opened door. He holds out a hand. “Stay here.”
A few moments later, he reappears in my doorway. “C’mon, Rora.” Following his command, I walk into my apartment. The air doesn’t feel the same. The aura is battered with Jerry’s written words and the fucked-up memories I have.
Closing and locking the door, Wyatt’s hand cups my elbow and brings me to sit on my gray sectional. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” I say, eyeing my baseball bat in my closet.
He doesn’t answer, just helps himself to my kitchen and opens the fridge. Grabbing a bottled water, he brings it back over but notices the white note on the kitchen tile and picks it up. His eyes scan the simple sentence that rocked my world and his composure is back to rigid and stiff.
He holds the piece of paper up in the air. “Who wrote this?”
I lean back into the plush pillows of my couch. “Doesn’t look familiar?”
He penetrates a glare at me. “I don’t terrorize women, if that’s your question.”
I glance up at my ceiling, praying that I’m going to wake up from this nightmare. I have a man I barely know in my apartment, a fucked-up note, and I was jumped in an alley by said man.
Wyatt appears in front of me. “You gonna answer the question? I have this thing with repeating myself.”
“Jerry,” I sigh.
“Who the fuck is Jerry?”
“My mom’s assistant.” I bring my head down to level eyes with him. “Sit down, you’re making me nervous.”
He does as I ask, sitting on the coffee table across from me. “Where does your mom’s assistant and you form out in the same sentence?” he asks me, clasping his hands together and placing his elbows on his knees.
“You get two more questions and then it’s my turn,” I advise, pushing myself up to sit Indian style. “Jerry was a friend, he looked after me when my dad died. I was thirteen. Then things changed when I started dating.”
“How?”
I look over his shoulder at the painting I have of a small girl on a tree swing. The painter only used grays and blues, brushing gorgeous swirls for the accompanying pond and grays for the mountain in the background.
“Jerry started getting touchy, would walk in on me while I was changing in my room. Then when I started getting interested in boys, everything shifted. It tainted the friendship I thought we had. But it brought out a demon that I didn’t know existed in this world.”
Wyatt opens his mouth, but I stop him. “Your two questions are up. My turn.”
I’ve never had the urge to strangle a woman until I met Aurora. Her stubbornness isn’t a turn on, it’s an impulse to own every fucking inch of her. Her bluish-gray eyes challenge me to play her game of two questions apiece, but I’m not spilling dick. This is my family shit, my mission, and a pretty little thing like her isn’t going to fuck it up for me.
“What are your questions?” I offer.
“You’ve been gone for two weeks… Where have you been?”
I tamper down the burst of irritation that boils within me and squeeze my fingers tighter. “Out of town.”
She gives me a dirty look for my vague answer. Too bad because that’s all she’s going to get. I wait for her to push my answer with question two, but she surprises me with her next one.
“Why do you feel like you need to be involved in my business.” She holds that gaze, that sexy, hell-fire look. There is only one reason that I can think of why I’m here in this room, with this woman.
Isla.
The idea of my not stepping in and making sure Aurora doesn’t get hurt keeps tapping at my conscious. I want to turn my back on this whole situation, but when she looks at me, her smile melts down my defenses and it’s fucking dangerous. Ever since Andrew and prison, I’ll never let someone else ever have power over me again.
That, and she makes my imagination run wild every two seconds.
“It’s the normal thing to do,” I assert. It’s lame, unplanned, and I probably could have pulled something better out of my ass, but that’s what I got.
“Even when that said person is trying to keep you out of their shit?”
I give her a cocky smile. “Your two questions are up.”
She pushes off the couch and stands in front of me. Her gray sweatpants that are too long for her, sagging off her legs, and her T-shirt is wrinkled as she plays with the bottom hem. I set my jaw, slowly bringing my eyes up, exploring every inch of her before they reach her face.
“Question time is over,” she exhorts, stepping to round her sectional, but I grasp her hips, keeping her in place.
Near me.
Her pussy is directly in front of my face, and my mouth waters with the need to see how she tastes while she moans my name and calls for God. Fuck, I want to break this woman and see if she adds up to the outline in my head; strong, resilient, wild, and liberating. I want to see her chestnut hair tangled in my fist while I thrust inside her from behind.
“Question time isn’t over,” I reply. “Sit down.”
She studies my face, and I know she’s battling with herself to throw me out of her apartment, or to trust me. I can’t blame her, it’s something I don’t give out either. Apparently, we both have dark pasts. I’m just hoping hers isn’t as fucked up as mine.
“No more games,” I press lightly. “I’m not here to hurt you, that’s the honest to God truth. I know you have no reason to trust me. Shit, with the way I look, I don’t blame you.”
“Has nothing to do with your looks.”
“Then what?”
“It was too convenient,” she appeals. “It was—”
“I’m sorry,” I deliver, rubbing her upper thighs in silent comfort. “I was taking a walk to clear my head and I saw you dart out of your apartment. When you heard me call your name, you bolted, and I knew something wasn’t right.”
“How did you know it was me?”
I fight back a smile. “You want the truth?” She holds my eyes with hers and nods slowly. “I told you that your ass would always hold a special place with me.”
Aurora bursts out in chuckle. “You’re an idiot, Rugged.”
“Rugged?” I repeat.
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, it was a name I called you before I knew your name.”
I purse my lips. “I like it.”
“It’s stupid.”
“Not coming from you.” And that’s a fact. It sounds sensual coming from her lips, and I like that she thought of me after that first meeting. Her hand touches my shoulder, and I suddenly start disputing within myself.
No nicknames.
No sex.
No kissing.
This girl has obviously been through enough. Keep your shit out of her backyard.
“Truce?” she affirms, holding out a hand to seal the deal.
Fuck me, I can’t with this girl.
I need to leave, but I don’t want her to be the morning news as a murder victim because I don’t know what she’s fully left behind.
“If you tell me more about this Jerry shithead, then yes.” She shakes her head. “I’m not going to beg you. I’ll just get it out of you another way.”
I watch her swallow, then nod her head. Sitting back into her couch, she crosses her arms and takes a deep breath.
“I was in denial for a long time,” she starts, keeping her eyes down and smoothing the fabric of her sweats. “I blamed myself for years on how I could’ve been so naïve to not know sooner where it would lead. Mom and I were never close. I
n fact, I swear that she hated me for the longest time when I wanted to be wherever my dad was. It may have been jealousy or envy.” She shrugs. “I really don’t know.
“When I was sixteen, I went on my first date. His name was Trevor. He was kind and smart, president of our Junior class. We went out to the movies and drove to this quiet overpass. Long story short, Jerry and one of his men, hoodlums, whatever you call them, showed up. They followed us, beat the shit out of Trevor, and Jerry attacked me.
“I woke up in my bed. I wasn’t sore, so I knew he didn’t rape me. Thankfully screwing passed out girls isn’t his thing. He likes to watch the fear in someone’s eyes, the whimpers and the sobs.”
“You can stop,” I blurt out. I can’t hear another word of someone crushing her spirit or the terror she must have felt. Not when I’ve heard similar screams from Levin and Isla in the night.
“There’s more,” she retorts. I clamp down my jaw and motion with my hand for her to continue. “I told my mom everything about that night, she didn’t believe me. We both thought that Jerry was gay, but he was a closet freak. When nothing transpired with her, Jerry came full force. From sneaking into my room at night to being outside my school, and when I’d go out with friends. He’d sneak in the house before I came home and would wait for me, touch me, smack me, punch me.” Aurora looks down at her hands. “That was until the last time.”
I reach for her, gripping her knees and coming to sit on the floor. “Hey, baby, we don’t have to talk anymore.”
I regret pushing this and making her agree. I didn’t expect this, a similar yet so different situation. My stomach stirs nausea into me, and I don’t know if it was from past experiences or what my heart feels for her, but I want it to stop.
“But I have to,” she whispers, weak and defeated. “The last time I was almost eighteen, two weeks away from graduation, Paige and I had a plan. I’d been stealing money from my mom’s purse for over a year and had over three grand hidden away. We were going to leave Chicago and go to California. Paige always wanted to be a model, and I just wanted to go somewhere warm where the sun would never leave my face. I felt overcasted with his shadow.