by P. Jameson
It twisted his stomach until he wanted to run to the bathroom to make sure he didn’t lose his dinner. Fuck.
Love.
Was that right? Did he love her?
He wanted to. Minutes ago, he was sure.
Good can feel bad, Marlee had said, when bad is all you know.
Yeah, that shit was real.
“Monster?” Vegas’s soft voice broke into his thoughts, and he tried to ignore it and what it did to his insides.
He closed his eyes to her, letting his new beast soothe the rough edges of his heart as much as it could.
Vegas. His mate. She was here, in his room. Safe under his protection. Fed and cared for. As comfortable as she’d allow herself to be.
For tonight, it was enough.
In the morning, he’d figure out what was happening to him inside.
And find a way to make the good things feel good instead of bad.
***
Vegas waited and watched. Had he heard her?
“Monster,” she whispered again.
This time he opened his eyes. He seemed to find her easily in the dark, his gaze locking onto hers even though he shouldn’t be able to see her.
Firecat.
Marlee had said he was like Ratchet. Something supernatural.
Of course. That was how he’d known she was crying.
“Yeah?”
His deep voice brought new chills to her skin. The blanket wasn’t enough.
She let her hand ease into the opening between them, hitting that line of light she hid from, until it stopped just within his reach.
“Do you want to try again?” she asked.
Monster’s eyes flashed with longing so heavy it made her heart climb to her throat. But then he pressed his lips into a tight line and shook his head.
Oh.
“Okay.”
She pulled her hand back under the bed and tucked her icy fingers beneath her chin to warm them. Silence filled the space once more, and she tried to focus on the steady pull and push of his breath. It helped warm the area between them. It wasn’t much, but it was something. She found herself leaning toward it.
“Can’t touch you anymore,” Monster murmured so quiet, she wasn’t sure if she was meant to hear it. “Not even a little.”
Sadness went over her in a wave. Why did sadness always feel so cold? Why couldn’t her cheeks flush the way some people’s do when they’re emotional?
“Why?”
“Because I can’t do just a little, like before. It was too hard to keep still and not touch more. Do more. And I made you a promise. I want to keep all my promises to you.”
Silence stretched between them while her mind went wild with possibilities.
“What did you want to do?”
His gaze faltered. His brow wrinkled with a frown.
“Nothing that you’d want me to. Don’t worry, snowflake. I can control myself. I learned how at a very young age. I’m good at it.”
He rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He fisted his hands at his sides and stayed that way for a few breaths before twisting again, so that his back was to her. This put him right at the edge of the bed.
Like he was guarding it.
But this time, it didn’t feel like a threat. It made her feel safe. If anyone came in the room, they wouldn’t get past him.
Vegas stayed very still and let the quiet sink all around them. Pretty soon, Monster’s breath evened out and the muscles of his back went slack. He didn’t move.
Asleep.
She waited even longer. Uncountable minutes. Before she whispered what was on her mind. “You didn’t answer my question.”
And he didn’t answer it now. Didn’t even hear it. Which was how she intended it.
Quietly, she shuffled her body to the edge of the bed to soak up more of his warmth. She was growing sleepy too. For once, maybe there was a decent rest waiting for her when she closed her eyes.
A shiver rattled her body. The nearer she got to him, the more delicious his heat felt. The more it drew her in. The more she wanted contact. Just one touch to make her fingers stop cramping, and then she would go to sleep.
Inching her fingers closer to his broad back, she took a deep breath and pressed her hand to his body.
Warmth instantly traveled through her numb fingers and up her arm like a random miracle. He was so hot.
Firecat.
She wanted more. Couldn’t remember wanting anything as much as she wanted Monster’s warmth.
Shuffling closer, she pressed as much of her body to his as their situation would allow and let him warm her all the way through. He didn’t know it, but he was already making her stronger.
And that night, for the first time ever, she didn’t fall asleep to the sound of her teeth chattering.
***
Monster came awake to slits of sunlight streaking through the blinds and the feel of something warm and solid at his back. Mind still clouded with sleep, his first instinct was to attack. If there was one fucking rule he could swear by, it was that he always woke up alone.
Not anymore, the voice inside whispered.
And everything that had happened over the past days came pounding back to him like a mental heartbeat.
Vegas. Mate. He’d freed her from Bastian’s dungeon. And now she slept beside him of her own will.
They were on the floor and she was technically under the bed while he was jammed up against the frame, but he didn’t mind. Not when the feel of her against him was the biggest relief he’d experienced in his life.
Monster closed his eyes and held still, not wanting to wake her.
He’d stay a statue for as long as she wanted to sleep. Felix probably wanted him back on garbage duty since he wasn’t working for Bastian anymore. But that could wait. For today at least. They could give him one fucking day after enduring the hell of watching his girl be starved.
Monster started making plans in his head while he waited for Vegas to wake up. He’d make this day a good one. Show her around the warehouse. Get her whatever she wanted to eat. Take her for a ride on his bike maybe. Let her pick out some things online to order. Things she could call her own. Whatever she wanted. He had money saved up.
And for tonight, he had a surprise for her. Something he’d thought of last night as he was falling asleep.
Vegas moaned and stirred against his back, her small hand curling into a fist around his shirt. It was lucky his back was to her. If she’d been within reach, he didn’t know how he would’ve kept from touching her.
Careful, careful.
He blew a breath out, grasping for his restraint. But another breathy moan from her lips had his cock raging and instantly hard. Maybe it was smarter to wake her. Just so she wouldn’t make those sounds anymore.
But god-have-mercy… he liked them.
As if she could read his mind, she drew in a shocked gasp and backed away, further beneath the bed.
Monster felt the absence of her body like an empty spot in his heart. It was that thing where someone fills all the holes left there by other people. Vegas was becoming that for him.
But now, with her awake, he could feel her fear returning. Inside, he didn’t panic though. Not like he had last night. He’d proven himself once, he’d do it again. Every day, if that’s what it took for his mate to trust him.
Without a word, he rose from the floor and dressed, shucking his sweatpants and replacing them with jeans. There wasn’t time to waste. He had shit to take care of for his girl.
He laced up his boots, grabbed his wallet, pulled a bottle of water from his mini-fridge, and left it with a muffin on the floor next to the bed.
One last look before he let the door click shut, showed a small hand reaching out from beneath the mattress to snatch the muffin.
As Monster strode to the stairs, he felt something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Something that had been beaten and cut from him just as harshly as his soul had been, once upon a ti
me.
A smile.
And it didn’t feel good. But he knew it would someday. Maybe even someday soon.
Chapter Sixteen
“Fucking, fuck. This is stupid. The rug is too big for your floor. It won’t fit. See look. And besides. It looks like you skinned a Wookie and had it made into a floor covering. The hell, ugly? The hell I say.”
Fang had been bitching for the last twenty minutes about the size of the rug Monster picked out. But it didn’t matter what the asshole thought. The rug was perfect.
Monster stood back to reevaluate the situation.
His bed was pushed up against one wall, the chair against the other. The desk was shoved halfway in the closet. And he and Fang had to make the goddamn rug fit before Vegas got out of the shower.
Her third one of the day, but he didn’t mind. If she wanted to bathe a hundred times and use up all the hot water, he’d let her.
New freedoms were important to her. He’d learned that today. And she needed to test them.
He pressed his lips together to hold back the strange smile he’d been battling most of the day.
He’d taken her to see the other Dolls and left them to visit while he and Fang went to pick up the rug. Afterward, she’d shopped for some clothes online, offering to pay him back as soon as she found a legitimate job. He’d growled at her over that, but she only ignored it. Like she was getting used to his rough ways.
Finally, he took her up to the roof. He knew it was Ratchet and Marlee’s place, but he’d wanted to get Vegas outside and it was the only good view in the warehouse. Not even great. But better than the gray steel walls and concrete floors.
Up top, she’d stared at the open sky for so long, eyes huge and fearful, that he wondered if he’d made a mistake taking her up there. But then he told her she could come up there any time she wanted, that it was as safe as the warehouse, and she’d relaxed.
They didn’t mark off everything on his to-do list, but there would be time.
“You lift that side of the bed,” he told Fang, “And I’ll push the rug all the way to the wall. It’ll fit like that.” And it would be perfect because it covered most of the hard floor. No more worrying if his girl was cold or uncomfortable.
She wanted to sleep under the bed, fine. But she’d have a soft, warm floor to do it on.
Fang grumbled something and stomped over to the bed to lift it. Monster dragged the heavy, furry monstrosity into place and moved out of the way before Fang let the bed drop to the floor.
“There. See? It fucking fits.”
“Yeah, fine. I guess. If you like walking on Wookie fur.”
“Help me move the bed back to the middle. Then we’ll get the chair back into place.”
Together, they put the room back in the right order.
“What made you choose this fluffy fucker anyway?” Fang muttered. “You miss your animal that much.”
They lowered the bed and went for the chair.
“Needed something thick. And soft. Something warm.”
Fang straightened, giving Monster a curious look.
“So Vegas isn’t sleeping on the concrete.”
Fang’s eyebrows shot into his forehead. “You make your girl sleep on the floor? Damn. That’s savage.”
“No, asshole,” Monster growled. “I tried to give her the bed. She doesn’t want it. Prefers the floor.”
Fang laughed, and it almost sounded real. Almost. “Bullshit.”
“It’s true, okay? She likes to sleep under the bed.”
“Fuck, really?”
“Yes. So I needed something good enough for her to sleep on.”
Fang eyed him, and he busied himself by pulling the desk from the closet and setting it back against the wall.
“That’s…” Fang’s voice sounded lost. “Well, damn. That’s weird as hell, but kinda nice I guess.”
“What do you mean nice?”
Fang shrugged. “Just… that she’s okay here. With you.”
Monster stiffened. “Why wouldn’t she be?”
But he knew what his friend was thinking. Vegas was supposed to be scared shitless of him. Like all the other women he encountered. She was supposed to be trying to get away from him. Not settling for a spot under his bed.
She was supposed to be fleeing the monster, not sticking around to tame him.
Monster resisted the urge to tell Fang that she had liked his touch. That he had done something right with her.
But it was just a finger wasn’t it? And maybe she was just messed up from all the shit that went down. Maybe she didn’t mean what she’d said last night.
Monster swallowed hard and looked away.
In the bathroom, the shower shut off, and he knew she’d be done in minutes.
“Hey, don’t get your panties in a knot—”
“Just get out of here, why don’t you.” If Fang would leave, maybe he could push all the shitty feelings down, and be happy again.
Happy.
Shit, was he happy today? Doing all this stuff for her, with her. Was that why he’d had to keep his face from contorting into a grin?
“Look,” Fang tried again, his tone serious. “It’s got nothing to do with your damn face. I just meant it’s nice that she can be here and not feel scared. Because you’re looking out for her.”
Monster’s frustrated breath made his chest heave. “What do you mean?”
Fang tipped his chin to the rug. “You made her a nest. Because she doesn’t feel good on the bed, right?”
Monster nodded.
“You’re looking out for her.”
Damn right he was. And always would. Even if last night had been a mistake. Whether she meant it or not, she was barbed wire around his fucking heart. And she was there to stay.
***
Her second day of freedom went a lot better than her first.
For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel like a captive. She’d walked without a snarling guard at her back. She’d eaten as much as she wanted to. She’d stood on the roof, trying to get comfortable with an open sky.
And it was all because of Monster.
He wasn’t so bad.
This morning, she’d read more of his journal. The things he described, the things he’d endured, broke her heart into pieces. His father, and the others of the clan, had spent a lot of time training the werecats to be cruel. It was no wonder he’d ended up guarding her in Bastian’s basement.
It was no wonder he had to try so hard just to speak without growling.
But for her, he did.
Vegas stepped out of the shower—again—and dried off using another of his fluffy towels. Showers might be her new favorite thing. She wondered if it was possible to take too many. To over-shower her welcome. But until someone asked her to stop, she had no plans to.
She brushed her teeth and slipped into the oversized t-shirt and sweatpants Monster loaned her. Just until her own clothes came, he said. And he’d bought her enough to last a lifetime. Or that’s how it seemed anyway. She would find a way to pay him back for it.
A legitimate way. A legal way. A way that didn’t make her feel like trash.
The idea made her mouth turn upward and she looked in the mirror to check.
Yep. There was a hint of smile on her lips.
Wow.
She couldn’t remember the last time she smiled.
Vegas stared at her reflection, picking apart the pieces of it like she never had before.
Her hair was still jagged, but she’d washed it so many times with Monster’s good smelling shampoo, that it felt different. Smoother. Softer.
Her eyes were still tired, but they didn’t look dead anymore. Not dull. They shined just a touch, the way eyes did when they weren’t hopeless.
Her lips were still cracked some, but they weren’t shriveled from lack of water. They were plumping up and no longer pinched with anxiety.
Two days. Just two days is all it took for her to feel human again. Imagine wh
at could happen in a week. A month. Longer.
Gratitude made her eyes water, but she blinked away the tears, not wanting Monster to see them.
He was something special. Something she didn’t believe existed until now. Only in dreams. Only in her imagination. Supernatural part of him aside, he was something she’d always considered mythical.
He was a good man.
The kind like she’d hoped her father was.
The kind opposite of Bastian and all the men who worked for him. Opposite of the men who borrowed Skye and Janet.
Monster was hard on the outside, rough and rigid and calloused. And he was hard on the inside too. Like she was. But he’d chosen good, just like her. Said no to the bad man, and took the path that would lead him to redemption, just like her.
Maybe when it was all said and done, they’d both find theirs.
She could only hope.
Vegas pulled open the door and stepped into the bedroom, stopping short at the changes he’d made since she’d last seen it twenty minutes ago.
The floor was no longer concrete. It was covered in a thick, dark rug that stretched from one wall to another, stopping a few feet in front of the bathroom entrance. Tip-toeing forward, she tested it with one foot.
“It won’t bite you.” Monster’s gruff voice pulled her gaze up.
He stood by the bed, hands on his hips, eyes on the floor, appraising the new set-up. When she didn’t answer, he lifted his eyes to her and seemed to soften in a breath.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked, his gaze giving her a quick up and down before skirting away, then back to her face.
He’d done that all day. Like he wasn’t sure where he should look. She wanted to tell him anywhere was fine as long as he would keep his eyes on her for more than a glance.
He did though, when he thought she wasn’t looking. He’d linger as long as he didn’t think she would notice.
But she noticed.
“Yes,” she answered. “I’m comfortable.”
“Good.”
She padded over to the bed, letting her feet get used to the softness of the rug. It was nice, even if her instinct was to reject it. Softness was good. She just had to reprogram her brain to realize it.
