Her wish for Jaxon’s sanity right now was that he would know she was safe with Lucky. There was no need to rock the boat or risk upsetting anyone by insisting he be the one to stay with her. She knew that’s how his protective big brother side felt inside.
“Fine,” Jaxon said, using the wall to stay upright before turning the corner.
“Goodnight,” she mouthed his way.
Under Lucky’s protective arm, she made it back to her room, withdrawn but accepting she’d wake up in the morning. There was no secret cave for extreme feelings anywhere in her body. She should be either crippled with fear or bursting with relief. Instead, she was numb.
“Thank you for the bath.” She wouldn’t tell him how much it hurt her raw skin because he was doing his best to be gentle. And his eyes hadn’t strayed from her back to gawk not once.
“You’re welcome,” Lucky said softly as he dampened a sponge and rubbed it cautiously against her overstimulated skin.
Sitting hunched over with her knees tucked into her chest, she let him very gingerly run some jasmine scented conditioner through the knots of her tangled hair.
“Thank you.” These were the pleasantries she’d worried about earlier.
She finished the long slow bath and then allowed Lucky to slip her arms into a hotel robe so soft and plush that she had to hug herself in its comfort. She began to thank him again but he stopped her.
“Hey,” he cupped her chin in the one spot it wasn’t scraped, “You don’t have to keep thanking me. I want to help you. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself otherwise.”
She nodded, understanding that last part full well.
“Trista, I’m just glad you’re okay.” He stroked her hair like he’d done so many times.
She yawned one of those yawns you get from not having enough oxygen rather than being tired.
“Let me help you to the bed.”
She was exhausted but didn’t want to sleep or eat or talk or be alone. She shook her head no. “Can we just sit?” she asked.
“Sure.” It was obvious the level of care this man was capable of. He’d never used anything other than a soft, tender touch with her and it seemed like his compassion was endless.
She just wanted to feel safe and have no expectations put on her. Lucky provided that as they sat silently on the loveseat, her head on his shoulder. I’ll never be good enough for you Lucky. Not after tonight.
* * * *
Jaxon stepped out of the scalding hot shower, the cuts and scrapes he’d received made fresh again. Damn, for the pain he’d inflicted on these wounds by standing under the pummeling water, he still didn’t feel clean.
He’d broke a few ribs before and could tell these were just badly bruised. The gashes and swelling on his face would go down eventually. His kidneys were sore but unless he started urinating blood, he wasn’t going to worry about it.
The thing driving him bananas right now was his complete restlessness. He tried to wrap his head around what had happened but ended up pacing the room. Mostly, he worried about Trissy. He was hardened enough mentally and physically to make it past the ugly side of human nature they’d endured together. The question of what would have happened had Lucky and Stefan not shown up when they did continued to nag at his thoughts. Even with all the promises he’d been given tonight, there was no escaping his need to know Trissy was okay. It wasn’t enough that she was in a safe place with a safe person.
He had to see for himself. He headed to her room.
* * * *
Lucky took care to ease himself up from the loveseat to answer the door. “I’ll be right back.” Trista just nodded and slumped against the cushioned arm.
Through the peephole, he saw Jaxon’s distorted head. He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway but kept his hand lodged in the door jam. Geez, Jaxon looked like he’d pissed off the wrong Mac truck. They shouldn’t stay out there long but it appeared they agreed talking in front of Trista was a bad idea. Unexpectedly, he wasn’t filled with hatred for his cousin.
“Look man, I’m sure you did your best tonight. I acted like an ass right at first because I had no idea what was going on. I mean, I still don’t, but if you need to talk, I’m here.” He folded his hands together as a gesture that he really held no ill will towards Jaxon.
Jaxon nodded but stayed planted in the hallway. “Lucky, I need to speak with Trissy, alone.”
He guessed he knew that was coming. Whatever had happened, neither Jaxon nor Trista seemed ready to discuss it with him. They stepped back inside Trista’s room where she now sat on the end of the bed. She acknowledged she wasn’t the only one in the room by looking up but made no attempt at conversation with either of them.
The silence became awkward so he offered to go back to his room to give them some time. “Is that all right with you, Trista?”
“Yes,” she said solemnly, her eyes empty.
He left against his better judgment.
* * * *
Once they were alone, he went to her and embraced her in the most pleading and desperate hug he’d ever known.
“God Trissy, I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said, softening his embrace as if he’d just remembered what they’d gone through. The physical pain still humming through their bodies.
They’d plummeted into this crazy situation and then been yanked out so fast that even Superman wouldn’t have had enough time to come to terms with it. If Trissy’s thoughts and nerves and emotions were anything like his right now, they were still a contorted hissing jumble that needed to be stripped down and rewired. Until they accomplished that, there would be no answers, explanations, or closure for themselves or their well-meaning friends.
“Jaxon, I am not okay.” She tenderly put her fingertips to the skin of his face, trying to find the spots that weren’t bruised and cut and hurting. “And neither are you.”
He knew she was right. His back throbbed with pain from his beating but he lay back onto her bed in spite of it and then held out his hand to help her ease back and take the space beside him. She winced and rolled to her side instead. The fact that she faced away from him hurt. Where did he go from here with his best friend? How did he fix it?
After a while, he reached his hand out to smooth her curls against the pillow. Her hair was damp and smelled like sweet flowers. She’d washed it. He didn’t know why but that one thought made him almost want to cry. It was such a simple act but one she may not have lived to ever do again.
Because of him and her attachment to his sordid midnight world.
She rolled over and he could see the same things he felt wading across her face. He inched closer as her hurting soul pulled at him. “You don’t need me Trissy, but I need you. I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, then kissed the tip of her nose. “Get some rest, baby girl.” Laying at her side, he rolled to his back but angled his head so they were nearly cheek to cheek.
His women had smelled like many things, but never quite like her. He was so fucked up right now, he could actually cry over it. Perversions were nothing new to him; he’d seen it all. But there was no excuse for the hard on growing between his thighs. “Flowers?” he whispered down to his dick. “Fuck you, you little fucker. You don’t get her. Ever.” What the hell did his body want from him right now? On a good night, he loved the shit out of sex. But honest to God, he’d never looked at Trissy with lust. And this was the worst night of his existence. Still, his balls were now full too. “Fuck. Me.” He rolled away from Trissy who just lay there on her back. Maybe he just needed release. “I hope you’re happy you little asshole,” he said, then wrapped his fingers around his cock, sliding them up and down. A few minutes later, hot cum spurted into the comforter he’d hidden under in case she woke up. “Christ, thank you,” he again whispered to himself. Breathing in too deeply through his broken nose, he rolled back to face Trissy. Still out of it. But that was good. She’d missed his freak show.
The jasmine accents surr
ounding her lulled him away from the ugly thoughts that refused to leave him be until he saw her wince and try to wiggle a shoulder free from her robe. Half out of it from exhaustion, he untangled the wrap around tie, loosening the robe’s opening so she could ease out of it if it was rubbing against her cuts. Part of it fell away, letting him see the raw skin of her collar bone and the fingertip bruise marks. The sight made him choke, but he undid the tie completely and eased the robe away. Then he pulled a single sheet up to cover her lightly.
The darkness of the room sheltered him along with the goodness he hoped had survived in his friend. He knew his time with her wouldn’t last much longer, that he’d have to—no—wanted and needed to give her back to Lucky. He nuzzled his nose into her hair and inhaled the sweet scent. She was safe. And then he stopped thinking because it hurt his head too much.
Before he drifted off completely, he heard Trissy ask in a subdued voice, “Are you going to be okay?”
No more thinking. Only the truth. “Eventually, yes,” he replied. “And so are you.”
That was the extent of their conversation. He waited until her eyes fluttered closed.
In his mind, he knew they were done. Finally, sleep came over him.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Lucky waited in his room. He hadn’t slept. Just waited. Wondering when he might hear from Trista. He wanted to be ready for when she called. But she hadn’t done so yet and it was fast approaching ten a.m. He remembered that he still had her room key and so he decided to go see if she was doing any better.
When he arrived, he knocked lightly to no answer. She was most likely asleep. If that was the case, he didn’t want to wake her. But he felt an overwhelming need to see that she was okay. And so he reached into his back pocket and pulled out the room key, slid it into its slot and on the sign of the green light, slowly opened the door.
The room was dark, much more so than his, with curtains pulled together so tightly not a single shard of light barged through. But since their rooms were laid out identically, he maneuvered by memory amidst the dresser, the bed and the small table and chairs. He remembered from past experience that Trista had preferred to sleep on the left side of the bed. So he hoped that by making his way to the right side he’d be able to simply lay down and not wake her up until she was fully rested.
The moment he knelt down to feel for the edge of the mattress, he was tackled to the ground and had a man’s hands in a chokehold around his neck. He would’ve fought back however a light came on after he hit the ground and the sight of Trista scooting hurriedly over the few feet of the bed to look down in his direction stunned him. He was pinned beneath Jaxon, wedged between the couple feet of space between the sturdy frame and the wall. Thank God Jaxon wore shorts. But why had Trista moved so quickly to cover herself up in the sheets? Before he could give the troubling thought anymore of his time, Jaxon’s voice bellowed out at him.
“What the fuck, Lucky? You scared the shit out of me. Shit, that fucking hurt.” Jaxon winced and moved his hands to the left side of his rib cage. They were obviously still tender from the attack. Trista was out of his view now and he wondered why she wasn’t still watching to make sure they weren’t pummeling each other. What had her more preoccupied than the possible intruder who had entered the room unannounced in the dark?
He might be down-home and simple but any man in love would be attuned the same way he was and he knew something was very wrong. Lord, had he been a fool to leave Jaxon with Trista for so long? “Get off me, man.” A vein throbbed near his right temple as angry blood pumped through his reeling head.
Jaxon raised his hands and started to back off, reaching a hand out to pull him up. But Lucky gave him a slight shove instead and then got up on his own. Jaxon stumbled a couple steps back.
What would he see if he looked over at her now? As it was, all Jaxon had on were his shorts. And he’d seen in a brief flash that Trista was wrapped up in a sheet undoubtedly to conceal her nakedness. He took deep breaths to quash the spinning in his head. Not again. He had to leave. This was too much.
Firm in his assessment of the situation and without looking her way, he spoke to Trista. He masked his hurt with a curt tone. “I guess you’re okay so I’ll leave now.”
“Lucky, don’t go,” she said in a quiet plea.
But he couldn’t stay. And it felt like her words lacked conviction. Fight for me, Trista. Say something else. But she didn’t.
He gave her his full attention in one last look. His breathing was shallow but his heart felt like it would erupt at any minute. Why hadn’t she come to his side just now? How could he have been so wrong about her? When their eyes met, he could have sworn she’d had more to say but all that met him was silence. Bowing out, he turned to leave before the moisture plucked again at his eyes.
“We need to talk, come here.” It wasn’t Trista, it was Jaxon. His cousin finished pulling on his black pants and tee and then escorted him with an insistent glare toward the door. “Do you want to do this in my room or yours?”
“I have nothing to say to you so it doesn’t matter.”
“Fine then, mine. I’m closer.” If Jaxon’s words hadn’t meant to be a punch in the gut, he wouldn’t have known it. Just needing out of that room, he followed his cousin into the hall. And then against his better judgment, went with him a few doors down to his room. It was like he had to hear whatever crap Jaxon was about to throw at him so he could throw it right back. All he wanted to do in that instant was leap at Jaxon’s back and pound him into oblivion. Again, his cousin had stolen the woman he loved. There was no bigger fool for miles around.
“Have a seat, Lucky.” Jaxon winced at the simple extension of his arm and motioned toward a chair.
“I’m not some little kid you get to boss around, Jaxon.” But he sat down anyway.
“Listen to me. What you saw just now, that was not what you think it was.”
“Yeah. Okay. Look, if you want me to sit here and listen to you, fine. I will. But let’s be honest. I’m a god-damned man, Jaxon. Why don’t you try being one and tell the truth.”
“All right.The truth. But you better sit there and really listen.” He gave the threat a second to sink in and then started again with a new intensity until he began to speak of Trista and her pain. “You have no idea what happened last night.” Jaxon’s face paled as a shudder caused him to breathe in through his nose with a loud hitch.
“You’re right, I don’t. All I know is what I keep seeing when I find you two together.”
“Shut up and listen. Last night, we were attacked by a bunch of assholes. They were sadistic fuckers and they beat me before I could do anything to get Trissy out safely.”
“That doesn’t explain how you ended up on top of her, on the cold ass ground, Jaxon and…” Saliva choked in his throat. “In bed with her just now.”
Jaxon shook his head then settled in a dead lull. “Lucky, these bastards were forcing me to rape her.”
What had his cousin just said? The words wouldn’t sink in, they couldn’t. They just oozed over him like putrid, burning acid. “What? They forced you to—oh my God!”
“That was their game, their plan. But I couldn’t do it. I fucking tried, Lucky. But I couldn’t do it. They got pissed and were gonna take her and gang rape her because I couldn’t do that to her.” Jaxon’s dead eyes were drowned out by brimming tears. “You and Stefan drove up and then they tossed us to the ground and beat us a few more times. I did the only thing I could do; I tried to protect her by hiding her under me. I didn’t know it was the two of you coming up.”
He sat down and tried to settle his anxiety and disgust over Jaxon’s depiction of the events. For as much as he hated what was going on with Trista, he couldn’t deny the stream of sincere gratitude at Jaxon’s protectiveness. But he still couldn’t forget what he’d just intruded on.
“I’m sorry, man. I had no idea. But—“
“What you just saw, Lucky, was what I needed from her. I had faile
d. Let her down. And you have to know as a man who cares about her what that feels like. I can’t explain this to you. I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to understand, but I needed to have some time with her where I wasn’t hurting her. Where I was a comfort instead of a drain on her goodness. I swear to you, it was nothing more than that.” Jaxon didn’t blink.
“You couldn’t have done that with your clothes on? How big of a fool do you think I am? I know you well enough, Jaxon; I know you’re a guy, just like me.” He couldn’t imagine lying next to Trista, after just having gone through that kind of ordeal with her, and not wanting to soothe her. To be the man she needed.
“Look, you have to take my word for it, Lucky. I mean…what the hell? If I wanted sex with her, if I was some perverted, disgusting asshole, I would have done it out there on the fucking hood of the God damned car!” Jaxon exploded at him with a loud, punching voice he was sure the entire Ritz had overheard.
He, on the other hand, was speechless. But Jaxon wasn’t done.
“She was shaking and cold, Lucky. You try lying next to someone who’s just been through what we had and ignore that shit. If you can, then you’re a cold-hearted son of a bitch. I’m a lot of things, but that’s not one of them.”
He had his own retort. “It should have been me. Okay? I thought I was giving you some time to talk or—I don’t know—but not that. I left on good faith that you weren’t going to take advantage of her, again.”
Jaxon shook his head and tugged down at the skin on either side of his battered face with his cut up hands.
“Lucky, don’t be a fool. Trissy told me last night, before all this, that you are the one. And I believe her. If there’s one thing that girl doesn’t do, it’s lie. I don’t have to tell you that, do I?”
Sidewalk Flower Page 28
