by Vanessa Dare
“Military school?” Nick interjected.
I nodded. “Kansas.” That transition hadn’t been smooth. Europe to the Great Plains was vastly different. Assimilating to the strict rules of pseudo-military life had been rough. Total understatement of the year.
“Have some more wine,” Carrie urged, lifting her chin as if pointing to me.
“You're trying to get me drunk.”
“Yes,” they said in unison.
I laughed and surprised myself. Telling the sorry details of my life wasn’t as hard as I thought. Maybe the wine was loosening me up. Or knowing they might have worse skeletons in their closets than I did made it easier.
“Five years of military school. I then realized getting kicked out wouldn’t bring me home, so I gave up. Settled into school. It wasn’t so bad once I accepted it. After graduation, my father sent for me. I was surprised as I hadn’t seen him in eleven years. I was thrilled. He wanted me back! He told me I was marrying his business partner, Todd Lawton. I turned eighteen the following month and I was married the day before my birthday.”
The waiter stopped by the table to take our orders but Nick shooed him away with a simple wave of his fingers.
“The day before?” Carrie wondered.
“I could be underage since my father blessed the union and I'll explain why they did that in a minute.” I picked up my wine. “At first, I was so happy. My father wanted me home, he’d found someone he thought special for me to marry. I was just so excited about that alone I was blinded to the why of the whole thing. Turns out, my mother left me money for when I turned eighteen. Money becomes mixed property with marriage so my father and Todd had plans to control it. To answer your question…” I glanced at Carrie. “I think they wanted to ensure I was married to Todd before I got the money so there weren’t any chances of the things falling through.”
“This is like a soap opera,” Carrie said, ripping up a bread stick into a pile on her little plate. “It would be really good if you weren’t the main character. I think I can guess, but what happened next?”
“My mother’s will indicated the money would come to me. It listed the amount, millions of dollars.” Carrie’s eyes went up at the amount, but didn’t say anything. Nick didn’t even blink. “Her will didn’t mention that there was a note to give me when I turned eighteen. When the money became mine. I never knew about the money, nor the letter, before then. Never. Sitting in the lawyer’s office with my brand new husband, I’m given a letter from my dead mother. She told me the money was mine outright, no one could touch it, but me. I guess my mother learned the hard way what a husband could do and wanted to protect me from a similar fate.”
The waiter came to our table to get our orders once again.
“Do you want me to order for you?” Nick whispered in my ear.
I nodded. I’d completely forgotten about the menu and didn’t think I could focus on it now.
After the waiter took our dinner choices, he left.
Nick prompted me to continue.
“Todd was furious. I remember he broke a vase in the office.” I picked up a bread stick, swirled the tip in the plate of oil. “When my father found out, he was livid. Todd was legally bound to me, not my money. I’d just turned eighteen and was stuck. Stuck with a husband I’d only known for a month, who, it turns out, didn’t even like me. I couldn’t have our marriage annulled.” I blushed at the thought, even now. I didn’t dwell on my wedding night. Ever. It wasn’t something I wanted to remember. Lots of girls hated their first time, and I wasn’t an exception. That was before Todd learned about the money. He’d been rough, uncaring toward my needs even with the expectation of my millions in bed with us. “Todd wouldn’t get a divorce. Both would have been scandalous in their circle, especially immediately after the wedding. Two months later, he gave me to his brother.”
Two months of enduring all kinds of hell, I thought as I put my uneaten breadstick down on a little plate.
You’re worthless. I can hardly get it up around you. When I do, you don’t even know what to do. My secretary fucks better than you and she’s dumber than a box of rocks. Maybe I’ll have her give you a few pointers. Now roll over, ass in the air. I don’t want to see your face.
There had been no escape, no way to get expelled. Military school had actually looked appealing.
Nick slammed his beer down on the table. I jumped, lost in the past.
“Gave you?” Carrie asked, sounding stunned.
We were getting to the part of the story where I’d done things I couldn’t take back, that would surely drive Nick and Carrie away.
I licked my lips, took a sip of wine. “He drove me to David’s house and told me to do whatever his brother said.”
The waiter brought our salads, twisted fresh cracked pepper on each one while we sat there silently. I had no doubt Nick and Carrie weren’t thinking about their food. I wasn’t even hungry.
“Short version so we can eat—David tried to rape me, I got away from him, found a gun, killed him. I was arrested, accused of murder, denied bail and sat in jail for forty-two days. It was finally ruled self-defense and I was free to go. A woman gave me a way out, I took it, and became Anna.”
I picked up my fork and pierced a cherry tomato, but Nick and Carrie just stared.
Nick pushed back his chair, the legs scraping against the black and white tile. “Will you excuse us for a moment?” he asked his sister without even glancing her way. He stood, held out his hand to me. I just looked up at him, at his unreadable expression, and took it.
He pulled me through the restaurant and into the hallway that led to the restrooms. At the very back, he turned us both so my back was to the wall with him blocking me in, sheltering me from the world. I couldn’t see around his broad shoulders. I could only see him.
“Nick, I—”
“You said attempted rape.” He looked tormented, concerned, yet lethal. “Did he do other things to you?” Just because Nick worked for Moretti didn’t mean he condoned rape. It was like child molesters in jail. They didn’t last long. There was a code, even among criminals. I hadn’t had people worry about me before so this strange new feeling, something akin to being cherished, took root. I liked it. Because he made me feel that way, I wanted to put his mind at ease.
I put my hand up to his cheek, rough with stubble. “No. He tried, but I got away before he did anything.” When Nick just looked at me skeptically, I continued. “Really. He just ripped my shirt. I got some scratches, a black eye, but that was it.”
“That was it? A black eye?” He looked at me carefully for a moment. His eyes dropped to my mouth, stayed there. “So if I kiss you, and I don’t mean like I did before, I mean really kiss you, it won’t dredge anything up? Freak you out?”
I shook my head. “No. At least I don’t—”
He shut me up with a kiss and there was nothing gentle about it. He was demanding as he angled his head to take it deeper all at once. His mouth opened and his tongue licked out over my lips. I gasped at the erotic touch, and he took full advantage and plundered into my mouth. It wasn’t just a kiss, but a full onslaught to my senses. I picked up Nick’s scent—soap and a hint of male. His shirt was soft, the material cool beneath my fingers on his chest. He tasted of beer, but his mouth was hot against mine.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered against my lips.
“You won’t,” I promised. Not right now.
With one hand at my nape, the other at my waist, I couldn’t move. He held me right where he wanted me. The world didn’t exist but for this kiss, this man, this moment.
He pulled away suddenly, a second before I heard footsteps coming down the hall. Nick stepped back slightly, to let a little bit of space come between us, but he didn’t break his dark gaze from mine.
Once the hallway was quiet again, I asked, “Why did you kiss me like that?” My breath came out in little pants, heat pooled low in my belly.
“I had to. Had to feel you, tast
e you. Your story, Jesus.” He tilted his head back, looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “I’m so…bent out of shape. I don’t pity you, don’t think that. But I feel bad, that’s not the right word, but I don’t know if I can explain what your words do to me.” His fingers dove into my hair at the back of my neck, cupped my nape. “I feel like shit, sorry, because it’s my job to protect you and I wasn’t there for you.”
I tilted my head, gave him a little smile. It thrilled me to my toes to hear his possessiveness of me. Good possessiveness, not the creepy kind. A week ago I didn’t need anyone. Or at least I thought I didn’t. I’d been doing fine on my own. Now, I needed Nick. It was hard to justify, to come to terms with needing someone who was bad, but he was just so good. “You didn’t even know me then.”
“I know that. Deep down, I know,” he continued. “That doesn’t make it any easier. I want to keep you safe and it practically kills me to know what you went through. I can’t take it away, but I can make it better. Now, I can.”
He lowered his head so our noses bumped, rubbed his back and forth Eskimo style, our breaths mingled.
“You do make it better,” I reassured him. “Your kisses, they’re like a drug. I want more. I can’t stop.”
Nick grinned and lifted an eyebrow at my words. “You want more? Then you can have more. Later. We should get back to my sister. But first, I want you to undo the top two buttons of your blouse.”
I just stared at him for a moment, processing his words. Yes, I’d heard him correctly. “Um…”
He looked at me now, so brooding and dark, his eyes heated. I’d made him that way, aroused and curious. It was a very heady sensation, this power I had over him. This little request, it was a game between lovers. Or almost-lovers.
“Just for me, Anna,” he murmured.
Reaching up, I undid the first button , my fingers fumbling a little, then the next, Nick’s eyes eagerly following the motions. Once undone, I dropped my hands to my sides.
He leaned in, placing one forearm on the wall above my head. He was so close, close enough where if I tilted my head up I could nip his jaw.
I was frozen in place, waiting for him, taking tiny little breaths, like prey caught in the sights of a wild animal. Using just one finger, he slid the fabric of my shirt to the side, opening the V at my neck. The very tip of his finger brushed my sensitive skin and the back of my neck rose. With the two buttons undone, my shirt still wasn’t revealing. Some ladies in the restaurant right now were exposing more cleavage than I was. But I used my clothes as a barrier, separating myself from others. Like my secrets, Nick was revealing all of me, one little button at a time. He nudged the cotton over about two inches, exposing the very top curve of my breast. From his vantage, I had no doubt he had a decent view down my top.
“Is that pale pink?” he whispered, his head tipped down, overly intrigued with a scrap of lace.
I felt like melting into the wall. How did just showing Nick a tiny hint of my bra turn me on like never before? He was taunting me, teasing me, while doing the same to himself. This was foreplay at its finest. If I could feel like this being completely clothed in a restaurant full of people, what would happen when he got me naked?
I licked my dry lips. “Yes.”
“Pretty,” he said. His finger slid lower, over the top of my shirt, to run a small circle around my hardened nipple.
The searing touch, even though the layers of my shirt and lace bra, was so intense I felt my legs buckle. I pushed against the wall to hold myself up. I couldn’t see anything else but Nick, his dark, intense eyes focusing solely on me. I was lost, completely lost in him.
“Feel that?” he asked.
I could only nod. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.
“I feel it, too. Later,” he murmured, full of promise. “Later we’ll explore this thing between us. For now, I’ll think about pink lace.”
CHAPTER NINE
Grif
My head was about to explode. It was borderline impossible to keep calm after hearing Anna’s story. I now knew what the Hulk felt like when his anger had made him transform into a big, green scary guy. I was ready to morph right then. Jesus, what she’d survived.
I thought my childhood had been shitty, with my parents getting divorced. That had been nothing. I’d had my sisters go through it with me, together. The Griffin family looked like a fucking Norman Rockwell painting in comparison to Anna’s.
Olivia’s. I couldn’t picture her with that name. To me, she was Anna.
And shit, to her, I was Nick. Not Jake.
I had to yank her out of her seat, lead her to the only private spot in the restaurant. It was like my inner caveman took over. No one would get to her, have her like I would. I had to kiss her. Touch her, know she was real, that she was in front of me, and that from now on, she was going to be okay. I was going to make sure of it.
Just the feel of her, God, she was incredible. So small, so soft, so special, yet had survived things that would have broken a lesser person. And she’d been six—six—when she’d been shipped off to boarding school. Her father had literally gotten rid of her, only to yank her back into his life when it was time to claim her money for himself and his asshole “business partner”.
Anna had been a pawn. Just that. Nothing more. Not any longer. I’d only known her for ten days, but that was enough. The physical attraction I had for her had been a problem since Moretti wanted me to use it like a weapon. No longer. Now it was a distraction, a completely different kind of problem entirely. One I liked immensely, especially if it involved a pink lacy bra.
Anna was mine and I was going to slay those fucking dragons of hers. The way Carrie looked when we returned to the table, lawyerly and laser focused, I knew she would help.
I didn’t want to push Anna further; she’d told us so much we needed to process it. I needed to talk to Peters, get other details that might be useful. Things Anna might not remember or reports she didn’t know about. We didn’t talk much for the remainder of the meal, lost in our own thoughts.
Carrie, bless her fucking heart, saved the day when we walked out of the restaurant. “I feel like some ice cream. There’s a great place up the block. Anna. Olivia. Crap.” Carrie laughed. “What do you want me to call you?”
“Anna. I like being Anna.”
“Good, because I’m terrible with names. I’ll get all confused and sound like my grandmother rattling off a bunch before she gets to the right one.”
Nana Addie never called one of her four children by the right name. By the time grandchildren came into the mix, sometimes she called out the dog’s name.
“Walk ahead with me because I want to ask your advice about my boyfriend and Nick doesn’t want to hear it.” Carrie gave me a sisterly look that screamed payback for making her go into Anna’s kitchen earlier.
Anna looked to me, then to my sister. Shrugged. “Sure, but I’m not sure I could be much help.”
“You’re my new best friend, remember?” Carrie linked arms and pulled her ahead. “And we’re getting ice cream. The world’s problems can be solved with both.”
The minute they were far enough away, I whipped out my cell, called Peters.
“Holy shit, man. We were going in the right direction last night, but this? I couldn’t have come up with this,” Peters told me.
I remembered Carrie’s soap opera reference and ground my teeth together.
“She told me,” I replied. “I know what happened.”
The street noise was loud. It was Friday rush hour and everyone was leaving work, beginning their weekend. Taxis whizzed by, horns blared, the sea of pedestrians fast moving. I stepped out of the main stream of people so I could focus, stood by a parking meter.
“All of it?”
“I got the main idea, but we didn’t go into the details.” I glanced out into the street when a taxi honked at a wrong-way biker. “Yet.”
“I’ll email you some links to read if you don’t want to ask Anna—Oliv
ia, herself. It’s pretty rough.”
Shit. I’d wanted her secrets, but they were bigger, darker than I ever imagined. Now, I didn’t want her to tell me more, to have her dredge it up. I could see why she built up those walls, to separate herself from one fucked-up thing after another.
“Give me the worst,” I said, dreading it. “The two-minute version.”
I could give the girls a head start, but not much.
“You know about the money.”
“Yeah.” I kicked at a pebble on the ground, watched it arc off the curb into the gutter.
“When it didn’t pan out for her ex, Todd—” he said the name with complete scorn, “—decided to share her with his brother. That’s some weird shit. One account is that she went to his house and murdered him in cold blood. She’d just graduated from military school and knew her way around a gun. Eighteen years old and a Prep champion sharpshooter, three years running. Won state, too. The military was wooing her right alongside of Todd Lawton.”
I ran a hand through my hair, paced between the parking meter and the light pole. I wanted to kick the shit out of something.
“She was arrested for murder. Her side of the story was self-defense, attempted rape. Her husband at the time didn’t take her side. Said that he’d married a psychopath whose skills were groomed at an elite military academy and the crazy bitch killed his beloved brother. Hubby pushed for murder. So did her dad.”
The fucker.
“Bail was denied,” Peters continued. “She spent forty-some days in jail because her due process was slowed down to a crawl.”
“Forty days? Let me guess, her husband and father got to the cops. The judge. Left her there to rot. Where the hell was her lawyer? She had buckets of money, she could have afforded the best out there.”
“The money was frozen. She was considered a flight risk since she’d lived overseas.”
