by K. L. Jessop
"And you still stayed?"
Dexter having Bipolar changes nothing. "I'm still here.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t see what you believe everyone else does.” Pressing my lips to his, I kiss him with a promise that tells him I speak the truth. “But can you at least tell me a little bit about it?”
He raises a brow. “You mean you’ve not done your research already? Wow, that does surprise me.”
“Behave. Help me out here.”
He chuckles, taking another drink and handing me the bottle back. “It can be unpredictable. The devil in me is sleeping, so I’m currently going through a good phase but they never last.”
“How long can they last? The episodes?”
“It depends. A week. Maybe longer. There’s no pattern to it. Not for me anyway.”
“Do the meds work?”
He shrugs. “Sometimes. Having Emmet around when I’m low helps.”
“And alcohol? Does that help?”
“Probably not, but I can’t help it. No matter what I do, it’s a downward spiral, and I’ve no idea when it will end.” He sighs. “I’m not a nice person then, Blue.”
“I know. I've witnessed it."
Reaching out, he tucks my hair behind my ear as he murmurs. "Only, you haven't. What you've seen doesn't even touch the surface. I say things—unforgivable things—and… I relive haunting moments that I try so hard to forget. There's no escape. Who I truly am will scare you.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because he frightens me,” he whispers. The agony coating his eyes makes my chest tighten with a pressure that takes my breath away. I think back over what happened in the market today and I question whether that had been the bipolar or his troubled mind. When I’d found him outside on the balcony this morning, I’d known he wasn’t the Dexter I’d been with the night before. He’d looked tired and torn. His reaction to that little girl hadn’t been normal.
“So if you’re in a good phase, what was today all about in the market?”
His eyes fall from mine. “That… that was nothing.”
“Dexter, please.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Pepper,” he says firmly. “You know too much already.”
But that’s it. I hardly know anything.
"Why do I feel like there is so much more to your story than you are telling me?” I whisper before I can stop myself.
"Because there is. I'm not a good man, and the person I am when I'm locked in the shadows is not a man I want you or anyone around.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true. I’d get out while you can.”
“That’s not your choice to make!” I snap, leaving the bed and feeling as though I’ve been wounded.
His words hit me deeper than I expect them to, leaving me with a body full of anger and uncertainty at the thought of not being around him.
My naked body paces the room while I drink down the rage he’s suddenly inflicted with JD.
I need to calm down; I don’t wish for him to get enraged by my behaviour, but how dare he—how dare he tell me to ‘get out’. How dare he assume that’s what will happen.
In the beginning, I would have run, but now… damn him for everything he’s doing to my heart.
“I said it because I’m trying to protect you, Pepper.”
"You said it in the hope I’ll walk away!"
Insensitive arsehole.
He doesn’t respond and that pisses me off as much as I want to calm him.
As much as the other side to him scares me, his demons running far deeper than I realise, how can I walk away from this, him, everything he’s making me feel?
“I never set out for any of this,” he admits quietly.
Stepping closer, I relax my shoulders in defeat, looking at him with truth in my voice and a heart full of everything I want and more. “Neither did I, Dexter, but how can I walk away? What kind of person will that make me if I run when you fall?”
“A sensible one. No one would blame you if you went.”
“I’m not walking away.”
“Pepper.”
I step back when he reaches out for me. The determination in my voice is soul deep. “I make my own choices, Dexter. No one ever makes them for me. Ever!”
He studies me for a moment before he sighs heavily. “I fear you’ll be the death of me, woman, and it’ll be very slow and painful.”
“I can kill you outright if it helps.”
His low chuckle has me fighting my own smile, and I drop all resistance when he reaches out once more, grabbing my wrist to pull me close.
“Blue…” he whispers. His warm breath hitting my skin. “Come lay with me.”
“No.” My breath hitches when his lips press just below my navel, creating that ultimate electricity he always has the power to generate. He’s got me, and the bastard knows it.
As he takes the bottle of JD from my hand, he places it on the nightstand whilst continuing the path of butterfly kisses little by little across my body.
“Seducing me doesn’t change anything.” My guard has fallen. My voice is weak as my fingers weave through his hair before he brings my body back onto the bed. He turns us together so I’m on my back, his muscular weight covering every part of me in the way he knows I like.
“It changes everything,” he breathes. Wet kisses are placed on my neck one by one. “We forget all the wrongs that have wounded our hearts and damaged our souls. Life doesn’t seem so cruel when I’m with you.”
My stomach tightens. If only he knew what his words are doing to me right now. Life doesn’t feel cruel when we are together, and I loathe myself even more: where I wanted to find a purpose in life, I’ve never expected it to be with a man—a man who has so many levels to him that I can’t keep up with; a man who has me quivering under his touch at the slightest identification of him on my skin. Only I haven’t just found a purpose: I’ve found someone that I don’t think I can live without. I’m falling for a man I hardly know, and it hurts more than I ever thought it would.
“Why do you not wish to run from me, Blue?”
I grip his face and express my words with an honesty that I hope he will hold onto forever. “Because underneath all the shitty attitude you give and the secrets I don't know, the nightmares I know you’re riddled with, I know there’s a good man hiding and desperate to come out. You’re not evil, Dexter: you’re misunderstood. And I’m ready for whatever you throw at me.”
That’s all the sincerity he needs for his mouth to crash on mine.
Chapter Twenty
Dexter
"Why do you never let me wake up beside you?" I hear Pepper ask, a little frustrated. The regret I feel with her question makes my heart sink. I’d love nothing more than to wake beside her, but the truth is, I’m protecting her—I’m saving her from me. What I’d said yesterday was true—she needs to get out sooner rather than later—but what she doesn’t realise is her reply had more of an impact than I ever imagined it to. The frustration in her reaction and the determination in her voice had brought it home to me that I can’t control everything I touch, and I certainly can’t control what Pepper feels. Then, I’d become angry because I’ve put her in a position that at any point could change everything, and I know it will not be pleasant. I have no clue when the depressive state comes. Sometimes, I have a warning—feeling myself retreating; other times it smacks me in the face. What I do know is I’m left in such distress that it puts people in vulnerable situations, and even though she refuses to run, it’s only a matter of time before she will.
"I'm not that sort of person," I reply, looking out of her window as I drink my morning coffee. Not long after she’d fallen asleep, I’d left the bed and had come into her living room where I remained until dawn broke.
"The lies you tell, Mr Wilson."
That, too, hurts more than she’ll ever realise. I
don’t like keeping the truth from her, but I’m not going to throw myself into a situation where too many questions are asked and too few answers are given. It shames me that my weaker side was exposed yesterday. I don’t know what the fuck I’d been thinking in going to the market. I don’t do people, and I certainly don’t do the chaos that is London town anymore, but I’d gone along with it for her. When I’d heard the sheer cry from that little girl, I’d suddenly become that fourteen-year-old boy who had done nothing to save his baby sister from those sick bastards who took her.
All I’d been able to see was Tessa.
All I’d heard were her screams.
All I’d been able to smell was her as I relived that fucking nightmare all over again. But what had shook me more was the strong sense of protection that had cascaded through my body when Pepper’s hands had captured me and her eyes had brought me home.
Pepper.
She is my refuge, my reason, and in that moment, I’ve never felt so safe in her arms and because of that, I’m willing to try harder. But that in itself scares the fucking life out of me because I’ve never had this type of intimacy with a woman. I don’t know right from wrong and it’s the latter part that I don’t want to fuck up. Whatever this is growing between us, I don’t want to get it wrong because she deserves more than that. Hearing her open up about her sister had been painful to listen to. I’d wanted to kiss away every demon that had fallen with her tears. I’d wanted to hold her forever and never let go because I, too, know that pain.
The horrific experiences she’d faced had hit home so strongly that I’d found it hard to breathe. She hadn’t just lost her sister that day: she’d lost a huge part of who she is, and that emptiness is all too familiar.
I turn my gaze from the city to the woman in question in the kitchen as she prepares herself a coffee. In only a short shirt and pants, her black bed hair is a ray of tangles. Her skin is pure, her cheeks tinted with a soft shade of rose that makes her powerful eyes pop.
She’s fucking beautiful.
I’ve not felt her against me in hours, and the rejection I’m feeling right now no doubt mirrors that of her own when she woke. I want to protect her, make her feel safe, but the idea of holding her all night brings so much fear to my heart because the last person that ever laid beside me was ripped away, and it’s something I’ll never be able to come to terms with.
Striding over to the kitchen, I wrap my arms around her waist, so she turns to face me. Her picturesque smile graces her face, producing a warmth to my heart as she links her arms around my neck.
“Good morning.” Reaching up on her tiptoes, she presses her mouth to mine softly before we connect with a kiss that confirms to me everything I’ve been fighting. With every stroke of her tongue, every touch of her on my skin, she's removing that murky part of my world and filling it with light.
She’s changing me.
She’s the comforting wind to the furious storm.
When I feel like this—in my good place, my bubble of euphoria—she makes me happy and I don’t want it to end. But how can I bathe in something I want so badly but also don't deserve to have?
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper.
Her eyes dance with something I can’t recognise as she circles the nape of my neck with her fingers. “You’ve never said that to me before.”
“I know but it’s true.”
She presses her lips back to mine is a soft kiss. “You know, I’ve been to many places in my life, but right here in your arms is my favourite of them all.”
Her words stun me, and I want to kiss her forever and relish in this feeling that she elicits in me, but my only reply is two words that have a double meaning behind them because I’m truly grateful for everything she’s done for me over these past few weeks. “Thank you.”
“What is your favourite place in the world?"
Anywhere where you are.
And it’s true because the only place I’ve been other than in her arms and against her body is on the streets. However, the reality of her question makes me realise once again how different our worlds are and how little I know of the world in which I live.
Cold stones, little food and rain clouds were my upbringing. I’d loathed every human that had walked past me without a second glance.
Hating myself, my eyes fall as an honest statement leaves my lips. “I’ve never even left this shit hole of a city to know the true meaning on the words ‘favourite place’. And London is definitely not that.”
“You don’t have to leave it to find it. London is not a shit hole. It’s a place where dreams can be made if you let it—a place that’s full of sparkle and kindness. It’s a place of adventure and fun, love and warmth.”
I shake my head. “I don’t agree.”
“Why not?”
“Because this city has never been kind to me. My dreams were broken the moment I thought of them and the adventure has been nothing but a nightmare. I see no good in this city and have no love for it like you do. I wouldn’t know where to start looking in order to find it, even if I wanted to.”
She holds my gaze and I pray to any man listening that she doesn’t push me on the admission that’s just passed my lips. I’ve said too much. I always fucking say too much.
“But do you though? Want to try and find it?”
“I guess. I’d like to wake and love the city like others and enjoy the right things that come with it rather than dread what could go wrong. I’d like to wake up and be free of everything that weighs me down and see life and this place from a different perspective. It’s knowing where to—”
“I’ll help you find it.” Her reply comes out in a rush as if she’s been waiting for me to give her the go-ahead. It causes me to bite back a smile. “If you’ll let me? I’ll help you find it if you let me.”
Even Emmet bangs on about how wonderful this place is and that I’m missing out on so much. Maybe it’s time to find out what the hype is all about.
“I’d like that. But so you know how bad I am with this city: I’ve never even been on the London Eye."
"Never?"
"I'm not fortunate like you. I don't even have a passport."
"You don't need a passport to go on the Eye,” she jokes.
"You think you’re so funny." Lifting her, I sit her onto the kitchen island for her to wrap her legs around me.
She glides her fingers through my hair, tucking the loose strands behind my ears as she eyes me with reassurance. "You don't have to have money behind you to be fortunate and have fun, Dexter."
"True. But the fortune helps you get somewhere in life if you have it."
“But you're privileged in other ways. Your work for starters. You have to believe in yourself."
"It's hard to believe, Pepper, when you’ve had a life of setbacks and been made to feel worthless,” I admit.
"You're an amazing person with incredible talent, Dex. You are far from worthless."
Dex.
She’s never called me that and I’m having to hold back the smile. “Do you realise what you said then?"
“Yes, I said you’re not worthless. Were you not listening?”
“Not that part. The bit before that.”
She rolls her eyes. “I don’t recall calling you an arsehole so what’s your point?”
"You called me Dex."
"I don't think I did."
"Oh, you did. And you never call me that: it’s always Dexter. So I would know."
She grins. "Well, my bad. That was clearly a slip of the tongue."
"I'll give you a slip of the tongue young lady." I press my lips against hers in a kiss that starts off slow and passionate. Our bodies lock together as fingers lace through each others hair. I escape her mouth and kiss my way down the side of her neck. Her soft moan whispering against my ear makes my dick jolt to attention, and as much as I want her, right now I have other plans in mind. I want to walk the city streets with her. I want to explore the sights already, smell
the air like the kid in me never had the chance to. I want to hold her hand as we walk through London and let everyone know that this beautiful creature beside me is mine.
“Come on. We’re going out.”
“Seriously. You’ve got me all hot and bothered and your response to that is for us to get dressed because we’re going out?”
“Yes. I want to go and explore with you. Today. Now.”
“What?” She hops off the breakfast bar, stopping me in my tracks. “Dexter, we don’t have to do that if you don’t feel comfortable in public places.”
She’s referring to yesterday, and as much as I hate being around people, I want to do this with Pepper. I hold her concerned stare. “We can take some time out if I find it gets too much.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more certain. Now hurry up and get dressed.”
“Ugh, so bossy.”
I smack her on the backside as she moves passed me. “Stop complaining and go do it.”
“Why do you need a bag of spray paints? Are you planning on working when you get to mine?” Pepper asks as we sit at a little bright green metal table in Pierre Herme, a place in Covent Garden that provides every flavour Macaroons you could ever begin to imagine. As soon as Pepper brought me here, my jaw dropped, and my eyes widened as we’d walked through the door. I’ve heard of this place but never experienced it.
“No. I’m not working today.” I lean over the table with half a Key lime Macaroon and place it into Pepper’s mouth for her to try it. We’ve chosen six different flavours each and cut them in half, sharing them with one another. During our mission to see the city, I’d had an idea spring to mind which changed our direction and led us back to mine so I could collect some spray paints. Seeing Pepper so down and vulnerable yesterday when she spoke of Persie has made me want her to forget the pain that she’d had to endure. I have an idea that I believe will bring a smile to her face; I have to find the right spot.
“So why the paints?”
“You’ll see.”
She eyes me curiously. “Why do I get the feeling you are up to something?”
