by JM Stewart
When they broke apart, they were both breathing hard. Tyler rested his forehead against hers, his cock stiff against the softness of her belly. She moved away enough to reach into the nightstand drawer, pulled out another condom, and handed it to him. The sound of foil ripping filled the silence as he tore open the packet. After putting on the condom, he reached down and hooked her knee, pulling it over his hip, then slid his hand to her ass and held her in place as he plunged deep.
He wasn’t slow or soft this time. Instead, their lovemaking took on a desperate edge. He used his purchase to pull her into him, his every thrust a powerful surge. Cassie dug her nails into his shoulders and thrust hard against him in return, reaching for something she couldn’t name but that gripped her chest all the same. The need to be as close as possible. To climb inside him and never come back out. The fear still gripped her chest. That he’d evaporate into the ether and she’d lose him again. Or wake up to find out this last week had only been a beautiful dream.
The sounds filled the room around her, a cacophony of their desperation for each other. The slap of flesh on flesh. His grunts. Her soft moans. They ignited a fire in each other. Every little sound she made, he groaned and pushed in deeper. Each hard thrust set a blaze burning through her blood and sent her hurtling toward climax at a speed that left her breathless and gasping.
It didn’t last long. In a few dozen strokes, they were shuddering together, his quiet groan mixing with the choked cries she failed to contain.
When it was over, they lay silent, still joined. Cassie trembled as she listened to Tyler’s harsh breathing and the wild thumping of his heartbeat at the base of his throat. The last wall between them had shattered to dust. Their lovemaking had often been intense. Tyler took her to places no other man ever had, before or since.
This experience had leveled her. She was sure she’d given her soul to him and taken his in return and an ultravulnerable sensation caught in her chest.
The thought left her somewhere between the delirious need to laugh like a lunatic and being too stunned to do much more than hold on to him. She feared if she let him go, she’d come apart at the seams. Three years ago—hell even six months ago—she’d have said she didn’t believe in that kind of “nonsense,” that it wasn’t possible to give someone your soul. Right then, taking each breath with him, she knew she had.
Still breathing hard, he dropped his forehead onto her shoulder with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I just…I needed you.”
“Don’t be sorry. I needed you, too.” She turned her head, kissing his neck, his jaw, his chin, any part of him she could reach. It was the most vulnerable she’d ever been and the most free, and it filled her with questions she didn’t know how to answer. What happened now?
And yet even as she asked herself the question, several more popped up right behind it. How could she ever let him go? How could she ever have been delusional enough to think that she could?
* * *
They had her again. From somewhere in the distance, Williams’s screams pierced the awful silence of the night. The agony in her voice shredded his insides and ripped his chest open.
Sore. He was so fucking sore. Every limb ached. His shoulder hurt like hell. Throwing himself against that door hadn’t done a damn thing except probably dislocate his shoulder.
“I’m here.”
The soft voice sounded through the darkness, faint, like the whispers of a ghost. He jerked his head up, searching the darkness.
Cassie.
The screams shifted, Williams’s voice rising in pitch, mixing with Cassie’s. Until they rang in his head, piercing his eardrums.
“Ty, I’m here…”
The voice sounded again, followed by more screaming. So much agony and fear. It gnawed at his insides like crows pecking at a carcass. He was useless. Fucking useless. They were over there doing God knew what to her, and he was here, sitting in the dark, crying like a five-year-old.
Because he couldn’t help her. He couldn’t get to her.
He couldn’t even help himself.
Her screams ceased, cut off abruptly. Panic curled through him. Her screams always dwindled before they stopped. He’d hear her whimpering. Now only aching, deafening silence enveloped him. Heart hammering in his throat, he turned his head, listening, praying, but long minutes passed in awful silence. Deep down, in a place he couldn’t explain even to himself, he knew she wouldn’t answer. Ever again.
A hand slid over his shoulder, the fingers warm and soft. Startled, Tyler swore and rolled, scrambling to get away. Where had they come from? He hadn’t heard the heavy door open. Its rusty hinges groaned. How the hell had they gotten in without him hearing?
In his haste, he fell over some sort of ledge, his hand catching the edge of a solid object, sending it crashing to the floor with him, where he landed hard on his ass. He turned his head, scanning the darkness for the threat, when a shadow caught his attention. It moved in his direction, a black arm reaching for him, fingers stretching.
“It’s okay, Ty. I’m okay. You’re okay.”
Cassie. Her words were soft, but their meaning rushed over him, and grief hit his gut with the force of a meaty fist. No. He wasn’t okay. He’d never be okay again. They’d taken her from him. What the hell did he have to live for now? They’d taken them all, one by one, then took her, too.
The shadow moved again, thin fingers reaching through the darkness like the hand of death. He ducked and rolled, determined to get out of reach. If they were taking him now, he’d go down fighting.
Before he could draw his next breath, he was scrambling to his feet. Something sharp sliced into his instep, and he swore under his breath, favoring his injured foot.
“Tyler, don’t move!”
Feet thumped the floor and a click sounded, the room flooding with light. The sudden brightness froze him in his spot, momentarily disorienting him. As his eyes adjusted, he turned his head, scanning the room around him, and found…nothing he’d expected. He faced a familiar baby blue wall as he stood beside a white nightstand he’d seen more than a dozen times. Confused, he turned the other direction. Glass crunched beneath his feet, jagged pieces cutting into the sole of his foot, but the pain didn’t register.
“Ty, don’t move. You knocked over the lamp.”
Cassie’s voice wafted over him. She rounded the end of the bed, her face twisted in concern. She was naked and the back of her hair was mussed, locks of it sticking up at odd angles, but she looked like an angel. So damn beautiful that for a moment, he could only stare. Was she real? Or was this another dream?
He reached out to her and turned, needing to touch her, to know, when she gripped his arm hard, stopping his movement.
She nodded at the floor. “Glass, honey. You broke the lamp.”
And that’s when the dream snapped shut and reality slammed him against the wall. He was in Cassie’s penthouse. In her room.
She looked down, the grooves between her brows deepening. “You cut your foot. Sit, Ty. I need to clean up the glass; then I’ll help you with your foot, okay?”
Cassie didn’t wait for an answer but turned and ran from the bedroom, her rapid footsteps echoing down the hall. It wasn’t until he followed her gaze, looking down at the floor, that it hit him what had happened. Splotches of red blood now stained her white carpeting.
“Fuck.” He dropped onto the end of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees, ducking his head into his hands. The dreams. He must have called out in his sleep. She must have reached for him, and he’d reacted.
Before he could think much more than that, Cassie rushed back into the room, a brown paper bag in one hand and a small vacuum in the other. She set the vacuum aside and squatted in front of him, glancing at him as she picked up the big pieces of her broken lamp and tossed them into the bag. “I want to clean up the glass first. Then I’ll take a look at your foot.”
Forget that. “Are you okay?” His voice came out hoarse. Had he been screaming? Or just talk
ing? His mother told him he often did both. Shame rose to suffocate him. He hated knowing Cassie had been privy to that.
“I’m fine. You were calling my name in your sleep.” She dropped another chunk of what looked to be an expensive lamp into the bag and offered a wobbly smile.
He didn’t miss the way her fingers trembled or that while her smile was pleasant, the sentiment didn’t reach her eyes.
“I didn’t hurt you?” He held his breath, waiting, scanning her body for any sign he might have struck out at her before realizing she wasn’t one of the insurgents who’d captured him. No red welts or fingerprints. Her skin was still as perfect as ever.
She froze, her head jerking in his direction, eyes going wide and round. The same look he remembered that night three years ago, when he’d sank to his knees and asked her to marry him. Just this side of panicked. Her chest rose and fell at a rapid pace as well, and she swallowed before blinking and shaking her head. She dropped the bag and pushed to her feet, maneuvered the glass on the carpet, and sank to the bed beside him.
She reached out, her fingers trembling in the air for a moment before settling over his knee. “You would never hurt me, Ty.”
His gaze had stuck on her trembling fingers, his senses honing in on her soft body against his side. “Then why are you shaking?”
She laughed, light and airy, the sound someone makes in a hysterical moment. “’Cause you scared the hell out of me. I wasn’t prepared for you to go launching out of bed.”
The weight of her revelation and what it meant—that she’d been privy to his humiliation—pressed down on him, and his shoulders slumped. He was a fucking mess. They were just getting back on track, but what good did it do him? He couldn’t give her what she wanted. She needed him to stay, to hold her while she slept, and he couldn’t. He wasn’t even sure it was safe anymore.
Never mind that he couldn’t take care of her. He didn’t have a job. He had a vague prospect, one that required he be mentally competent. Yeah, he was pretty sure he was failing that particular test. He was fucking useless.
“I’m sorry. I should go. I’m not sure this was a good idea.” Numb now and too damn tired, he pushed to his feet, ignoring the pain shooting through his sole as he scanned the room for his clothing.
Cassie surged to her feet and moved in front of him, blocking his path. All five feet six inches of her. Her eyes narrowed as she braced a hand against his chest and jabbed a finger at the bed behind him. “No you don’t. Sit. Down.”
Helplessness washed over him. All he could see was the room. The shattered lamp. The splotches of blood staining her carpet. The chaos he’d brought to her quiet life.
He swept his hand in the air. “Look at your room, Cass. This is life with me now. This isn’t a once in a while thing. This is an everyday occurrence for me. If you want to sleep with me, you can’t ever close the bedroom door. More often than not, I sleep with the TV on, because it acts like a night-light. Hell, I’ve flat-out asked Mom to turn the light on a few times, because it felt safer than sleeping in the fucking dark. I have no idea when I’ll be able to go back into one of those clubs you love so much. Or a movie theater. Or hell, a crowded restaurant.”
He was breathing hard by the time he finished. There it was. His entire pathetic self wrapped up in a neat little bow. Yeah, some boyfriend he was. And he wanted to marry her? Have kids he could hurt as easily? To ask her to settle for a life filled with this crap? God, she deserved so much better than this. So much better than him.
Cassie froze again, staring at him. Tense seconds passed as those eyes searched his. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she thought, wasn’t sure he could handle it, but the longer he watched, the more her beautiful eyes filled with tears. They hovered at the edges of her lashes, stubborn, like her. Finally, she swallowed, blinked, and her shoulders rounded. “And you somehow think that changes how I feel?”
It should. He wouldn’t blame her if it did. A relationship with him wasn’t easy or uncomplicated anymore. He came with baggage. Big, heavy fucking luggage he didn’t know if he could carry anymore. Why the hell should he expect her to?
“Doesn’t it?” He dragged a hand over his head, clutching the short hairs on top. Instinct told him to look away, to hide from her, but he couldn’t stop watching her eyes. He needed her response like he needed to breathe or eat.
A single tear escaped, trailing down her cheek, but she swiped it away and drew her shoulders back.
“No. Now sit down, damn it. I need to clean this up first, so neither of us gets cuts again, and then I’m going to take care of your foot. If we don’t get that glass out, it’ll get infected. We can talk when I’m done.” She planted her hands on her hips and stood glaring at him like a fucking drill sergeant. When he didn’t move—because he was too awed by her to do much more than stare—she jabbed her finger in the direction of the bed again. “Sit.”
So he sat, because who the hell could argue with her?
Chapter Twelve
Cassie bent to the mess spread out around her, picking up as much of the broken glass as possible and chucking it into the bag. Tyler sat on the bed. He was quiet, too much so, and he wouldn’t look at her. Rather, his shoulders rounded, elbows resting on his knees, and his head sat in his hands. She couldn’t even tell if he breathed.
The moment of truth had arrived. She had a decision to make, a big one, and she was pretty sure she knew the answer. They needed each other. What she had to do now was be honest with him. So she started talking, because she didn’t know what else to do.
“You know, when I met you, all I wanted was a fling. Since Nick’s death, I lived by certain rules. I didn’t date men in uniform, and I didn’t allow myself to get close to anyone, because I couldn’t handle losing someone else. But God you were gorgeous in that uniform, with your bulging muscles and throwing those one-liners at me with that cocky damn grin on your face.”
Remembering made her shiver again. Running headlong into a pair of strong arms, only to find him grinning at her. And then he’d tossed that awful line at her. She was pretty sure she’d fallen for him that night.
She shook her head, picked up another large shard of glass, and tossed it into the paper bag. She could only pray she was reaching him. “I’d convinced myself you were just a fling, that I wasn’t falling for you, but when I was with you, I felt good. Free. You were the one man in my life who didn’t seem to want anything from me. You accepted me as I was, crabby and demanding and all. Hell, you laughed at me for it, teased me.
“Nobody’s ever done that for me. Even my father wants me to be something I’m not. But when you dropped to your knees and asked me to marry you, it scared the hell out of me. You were leaving and it meant I could lose you. Like my mother. Like Nick. When you didn’t come home…”
Her voice cracked, and she stopped to collect herself as the memories of that time, when Marilyn had called to tell her the news, filled her mind. The pain that had wrenched at her chest. The months of trying but failing to go numb. To somehow figure out how she’d live without him. The shame of realizing she’d fallen in love with a man who’d died thinking he meant so little to her.
She drew a shuddering breath. She was telling him all of this, because she wanted, needed, him to know. She had the distinct feeling he was making decisions, ones that didn’t include her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tyler lift his head but he remained silent, watching her, somberness emanating from him.
She swiped at the tears, picked up another chunk of her broken lamp, and went on. If she was losing him, fine, but she’d do everything not to. He’d at least know what he really meant to her.
“Somewhere along the way I fell in love with you. You want to know what I did when I thought you died? I buried the pain. In alcohol. In other men. I pushed myself to the limits, because it was easier than admitting I couldn’t live without you. My life doesn’t make sense without you, Ty. So all this crap?”
She swiped
her hand in the air, encompassing the mess around her.
“This is just stuff. I can buy a new lamp. What I need is you. In any way you’ll let me. If that means you have to go home at the end of the night, fine. Do what you have to do, but don’t think for one second that I care about this mess or how fucked up you are. Because you’re alive, Tyler. Alive.”
Tyler remained silent. Tension rose in the room like a dense fog, until she was sure something would break between them. He’d shut himself off from her. Never in all the time she’d known him had he ever gone to a place she couldn’t reach. Was this what he felt like all those times she’d shut him out? Her cheeks heated, shame rising over her. How could she ever have treated him like he was nothing? Tyler was her everything. The sun her world revolved around.
Unable to stand his silence, she chucked another piece of her broken lamp into the bag with a little more force than necessary and jerked her gaze to him. “Say something, damn it.”
He’d been staring at the floor but lifted his gaze. Those blue eyes she loved so much, normally bright and playful, were now devoid of emotion, blank and unreachable. “What do you want me to say?”
Heart aching, she abandoned the mess and maneuvered around it, coming to squat at his feet. “Talk to me. I know I deserve the silent treatment, because I’ve done the same to you too many times, but please don’t shut me out.”
He ducked his head, running trembling hands back and forth over the top. “I don’t know if I can do this, Cass. I’m barely making it through the day. I can’t ask you to live with this.”
She reached out carefully, allowing him time to adjust to her movements, and rested her hands on his knees. Somehow, she hoped the touch would ground them together. It always had in the past. “What, you mean like the way I’ve asked you to live with my moodiness? To deal with my need to be perfect all the time?”
