by K. Webster
Not even me.
Once we’re at the shopping center, I pull my Tahoe in and find a spot. I turn off the vehicle but neither of us moves to get out. We’re both wary, apparently.
“Do you not work?” she asks, turning to regard me. Her thick, dark eyelashes bat against the apples of her cheeks in a mesmerizing way.
I crack my neck. “I’m on disability.”
Her brows lift as she drags her gaze over my body. “You are?”
“I’m mentally unfit according to the government.”
She frowns. “So they pay you to stay home?”
It’s safer that way. Away from people. Away from chaos.
“They do,” I say finally. “When I came back from…there…I was met with an NDA. I’d already signed one, but they wanted to be sure I wouldn’t detail out what went on out there. I was paid for my four months in captivity and then they determined because of what happened via a psychological evaluation, that I was unable to work.”
I was a problem that didn’t go away.
Five men tortured and killed. One remained. America didn’t want that splashed on the tabloids. They thought it best for the country for me to come back quietly and blend back into society. The government didn’t want another war and cleaned up the mess behind closed doors.
“You went over there for your country and when you came back, your country swept you under the rug like a little leftover dirt?” she asks, her voice slightly rising.
I rub at the back of my neck and squeeze my eyes shut. “They keep tabs on me. I have to see a psychiatrist monthly.” My head turns and I pop my eyes open to stare at her. “It’s how I found you.”
Her gray eyes bore into me for a long while, studying me to the point I squirm under her intense stare. Then, she reaches for my hand. I squeeze it as if it’s a lifeline.
We spend the next hour in a shop that carries women’s clothing. She tries on several pairs of jeans and grins so happily I think my heart will burst. Alan kept her captive wearing that fucking horror show of a dress and then I wasn’t much better. When she’s with me—smiling and laughing and talking—it’s easy to subdue the monster and let the man win. The man wants to keep her and cherish her and spoil her. The beast wants to destroy her, but the man has managed to wrangle a big fucking leash on him. For now. Hopefully forever.
After we buy her clothes, I take her back to the Tahoe so she can change out of my things. Eventually, she slides out of the vehicle looking so young and innocent—like something I want to protect. The jeans fit her well and the women’s tennis shoes seem so small compared to the ones she’d borrowed from me. Her pink hoodie makes her lips pinker and her eyes brighter. I pull her to my chest and inhale her hair that smells like my shampoo. I love that she smells like me.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur against her hair.
She lets out a happy sigh, hugging me. “Thank you. Are you hungry? Whatever that smell is, I want it.”
I pull away and seek out the source. A pizza parlor sits at one end of the shopping center and beckons for us. I grab her hand and together we walk over to it. Once inside, my stomach grumbles as I inhale the garlicky scent. Natalie grins as she takes in the obnoxious red decorations and pinball machines in one corner.
“Ocean City Pies,” the guy greets. “What can I get ya?”
I’m staring at the menu when Natalie leans into me. I cut my gaze from the menu board to the way the guy blatantly checks her out. Possessively, I wrap my arm around her and pull her close.
“What do you want, honey?”
She shrugs. “I haven’t had pizza in so long. Pepperoni?”
I order us a large pepperoni with some drinks and I have to fist my hand to keep from slapping the shit out of “Craig,” as his nametag boasts. I’m able to drag her over to the windows that overlook the ocean, away from Craig’s leering eyes.
She’s mine.
The thought of anyone even looking at her makes my nerves buzz with violence.
“If you weren’t unable to work, what would you like to do?” she asks in a conversational tone as she unwraps her straw.
My brows furrow as I wonder what it is I’d like to do. I was a military man. Serving my country was more than my job, it was my duty. I’d never considered anything else. Then, after all the terrors I experienced in Halayeb, I had no will or drive to do anything. The only thing fueling me was hate and revenge.
“I don’t know,” I mutter.
She takes my hand and squeezes it. “It’s okay.”
Our eyes meet. Hers are soft and caring. It fucks with my head. I don’t understand how we got to this point—us having a date in a pizza parlor like we’re fucking normal.
Her lips purse as she takes in my mood change. Natalie is perceptive and intuitive.
“I used to think I wanted to be like my mom. I’d studied acting and was in drama in high school.” Her head bows as she plays with the straw paper. “After what happened with my mother, and then having to live with Alan, my hopes changed. I just wanted something for myself. Something that was completely mine. You know?”
“Like a restaurant or a business?”
Her cheeks tinge pink. “I don’t know. Maybe. It seems silly to have thought about these things when…” she trails off and shudders. “I was stuck with him with no hope of getting out. Only a dreamer would imagine a life she couldn’t have.”
I think back to the times I was in the cold dark bowels of Anta’s mansion. So often I’d dream of a house with a woman. Kids like my brothers had. Home-cooked meals. A normal life. They were cutting my flesh from my body and letting me fester in my own infection. I should have been hoping for food or medicine. Not a white picket fucking fence. And I did. I still did.
“I get it,” I reply huskily.
Natalie continues to chatter easily about things from her old life. I’m only half listening as she talks about her old friends and stuff she would do. I stare at her pouty lips as she says each word, mesmerized by the movement. I’m shaken away from my daze when Craig brings us our pizza.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” he chirps to her, completely ignoring me.
He’s blatantly eye-fucking her like he actually has a chance with her. I’m about to tell him to get the fuck out of here when he finally leaves. We eat our pizza in silence and the happy moans that come from her have my cock hardening in my jeans. If I’d known pizza would make those sounds come out of her, I would’ve gotten it every day.
“Do you have any quarters?” she asks, nodding toward the pinball machines.
I smirk and dig some from my pocket. She rises from the table, and of course, I can’t help but follow. I press against her from behind and cage her in, my hands on the outside of the machine. She feeds in a couple of quarters and then leans against my chest as she slaps at the buttons. Nuzzling against her hair, I inhale her. I nip at her ear and kiss the side of her neck. One of my hands slides under the front of her hoodie so I can touch the bare skin of her stomach. She groans in pleasure.
My dick is aching with need and I press against her so she can feel it. Her ass rolls against me, teasing me. I’m harder than fucking stone. If I didn’t think it’d bring attention to us, I’d yank her jeans down her thighs and fuck her right against the machine, forcing Craig to watch. I’m half sold on that idea when my phone rings.
“You should get that,” she says breathily and distracted.
Grumbling, I pull away to see that it’s Emily. “I’ll be right back,” I tell Natalie before answering. “Yeah, Em?”
Emily starts yelling through the phone as I push through the doors and stand in the icy wind outside. “She has to call and let them know she’s okay. It’s all over the news, Cole. They still think she’s been kidnapped.”
She was kidnapped.
“She wasn’t kidnapped,” I lie. “She’s happy with me.” Not a lie.
“I get that,” she barks out. “But apparently her cousin doesn’t. He’s worried about he
r. And I’m afraid with his political influence, if you don’t make her call and clear the air, then he’ll come after you.”
“He doesn’t know she’s with me,” I argue. “Who the hell cares?”
“They have the FBI involved, Cole. Snap the hell out of it. I just watched an interview with a profiler and they described you to a T. Just…” She fumbles around for a second and then my phone buzzes. “Watch the interview. I texted it to you. You’re going to get pulled into a shitstorm and your life is going to be dragged across national television all due to a misunderstanding. Clear it the hell up. Otherwise, they’re going to dig up your past and pick off the scabs of old wounds. And I do not need this right now as we try to open this other restaurant. Your past weaves with mine.”
I grit my teeth. “Fine. I’ll make her call.”
Bitterness roils in my stomach, souring it. She’s afraid of him. The last thing she wants to do is talk to him. I don’t want to make her, but I also don’t need him poking into my life either. Fuck.
Emily hangs up and I pop open her text. The video isn’t long, but it sets my teeth on edge. They’re looking for a man in his thirties. Ex-military. Possible PTSD. Someone who is familiar with the area and frequents the locations in a ten-mile radius of the place she was taken. Apparently they have video footage of the kidnapping that they are still analyzing.
How do they know all this?
I was so careful.
Frustrated, I research more articles on her missing whereabouts. Every interview with Alan makes me seethe with rage. He plays the perfect part of worried cousin. All the while, a monster, not unlike mine, lurks beneath.
I shove my phone in my pocket and head inside. Natalie’s still at the machine, but her whole demeanor has changed. She’s no longer happily playing the game. Her body is stiff and motherfucking Craig is leaned up against the machine talking to her. He looks at her like he can convince her to go to the backroom and suck his dick. Over my dead body.
Stalking forward, I let out a growl of warning as I approach. His eyes widen at my unmasked rage and fury radiating from me.
“Problem here?” I demand, my voice cold and harsh.
He shrugs like a smug bastard. “Nope. Just entertaining your girl while you were gone.”
Sensing my impending explosion, Natalie turns toward me and hugs me. “I’m fine,” she whispers. “I’m fine now that you’re here.”
Her words settle me, but I can’t help but glower at the dickhead. He simply smirks and walks off. I thrum with the need to bash his fucking skull in.
“Let’s go,” I bark out, dragging her behind me. It isn’t until I have her at the other end of the shopping center that I let out a breath of relief. “Are you really okay? You looked tense.”
She nods and burrows against my chest, seeking my warmth. “He gave me weird vibes, but I think he was only flirting.”
I tense up, eager to go back and fuck him up, but she chuckles.
“I didn’t flirt back and he didn’t mess with me. I’m fine. You don’t have to worry, although it’s really sweet you do.”
I tilt my head down and stare into her stormy gray eyes that match the sky exactly. My lips crash to hers, violently and fucking needy. I want to kiss her in a way that proclaims to everyfuckingbody she’s mine. Her moan is sexy as hell and I devour it as my hands grip every curve available to me. I want to drag her back to the Tahoe and fuck her in the backseat. But I can’t. We have business to take care of. Reluctantly, I pull away and guide her over to the payphone.
She frowns. “What are we doing? You have a cell phone.”
“You have to call him.”
“I don’t want to,” she chokes out, terror in her eyes.
“You have to.”
“Please don’t make me.”
When she begs and pleads with me, I can hardly deny her. She’s not like them. She never was. So her pleas actually make me take pause. We could walk away and go home. End of story.
But then what?
Would they take her?
Panic rises in my chest and I pull some coins from my pocket. “I’ll be right here,” I assure her. “But you have to let him know you’re safe.”
Her bottom lip wobbles as she takes the receiver. “But once I speak to him, I won’t be safe anymore. He won’t stop until he finds me.”
I look up the number of Alan’s office on my phone and then shove the quarters into the slot before dialing it. I brush some errant strands of hair from her face. “He’d have to come through me first.”
My words don’t calm her and she visibly trembles. When someone answers, she says, “Alan Dusana, please.” Then a pause. “It’s his cousin.”
Seconds later, she shuts down. All happiness and will to live bleeds away as she sinks into herself. Her shoulders hunch and her head bows. I can hear him yelling through the phone.
“I’m safe,” she whispers.
More yelling.
“I’m not coming home.” Her words crack. She’s meant them to be bold, but they’re weak and unsure.
She’s not going home.
I pluck the phone from her to tell him myself. “Are we done here?” I growl. “Call off your dogs.”
Cold silence and then a cruel laugh. “So you’re the filth who thought he could take my family away from me. Do you have any idea how valuable she is to me?”
“She’s a grown-ass woman who can make her own decisions. She’s decided to stay with me,” I inform him. “Indefinitely.”
Her eyes lift to mine and shine with such adoration I’m nearly knocked over by the sheer force of it.
“What’s your name, dog?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“So I’m supposed to believe some unnamed hero has my girl and she’s perfectly safe. I want to see her. Bring her to me. Now.”
I tense at the very thought of losing her to him. “No can do, asshole. Let your people know she’s safe and back the fuck away. We don’t need to let the world know exactly how you love your cousin, do we?”
He hisses. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. She told me everything. Now stay the hell out of our business and I’ll stay out of yours,” I warn. “Don’t test me, Dusana.”
I hang up on him and pull Natalie to me. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t let him take me.”
“Fucking never.”
ANXIETY THREATENS TO EAT ME alive. Hearing his voice chilled me to my bones. I was right back in that kitchen. Alan brutalizing my ass. Despair my only emotion. Silent tears track down my cheeks the whole way home with Cole. He’s quiet and agitated. I should try and keep him calm so he doesn’t lose it, but I’m barely keeping it together myself.
Once we pull up next to his house and get out, I think about running. Away from everyone. Right over the cliff. Cole seems to sense my fragile state because he hugs me from the side with his arm that’s not holding the bags and ushers me into the house.
“I need a drink,” he says, dropping the bags onto the floor just inside the door.
I follow him into the kitchen, needing his nearness. His warmth and safety. He pulls a bottle of vodka from the freezer. I watch him as he unscrews the lid. His brows are furled together and his nostrils flare. He wraps his lips around the top and tilts it back, taking a hearty swig. When he swallows it down, he hands me the bottle.
I’ve never drunk really, aside from stolen sips of my mother’s wine when I was a teenager. I grab the icy bottle from him and sip it. Fire burns my mouth and then my throat when I swallow it down.
“Ahh,” I hiss. “Yuck.” I’ve just decided to not drink another sip when I realize in its burning wake, numbness remains. I attempt to hold my breath and take a bigger swallow.
Cole’s eyes sear into mine as he plucks the bottle from my grip. With his stare never wavering, he gulps down more. Intensity thickens the air. This is probably a bad idea, but it doesn’t stop me fro
m taking the bottle back.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
The kitchen grows warmer and I pull off my hoodie when he takes another gulp. His eyes drag down my front.
“I like you in a bra,” he rumbles. “Let me see it.”
I’m hot anyway, so I tug off the tank top. My breasts seem fuller and perkier in the pink, lacy bra. I look dainty and fragile standing across from this menacing man holding a bottle of vodka and wearing an evil smirk. Heat floods through me. He sets the bottle on the counter and then grips my hips. My body is on fire from the liquor and it seems to blaze out of control from his touch. He lifts me and sits me next to the bottle. I spread my thighs, welcoming him between them.
He kisses my lips and then my cheek. Then, his tongue slides along my jaw bone to my ear. His hot, breathy words send currents of desire rushing through me. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.” His teeth nip at my earlobe and then he bites playfully down my throat. I let out a groan when he grips my breasts through my bra and squeezes them lightly. Then, he pulls down the front of the cups to expose my nipples to him. His kisses trail down as he bends over and takes my nipple in his mouth.
“Ohhh,” I whimper.
He pulls away and stares at me with a wicked gleam in his eye. Then he takes the bottle and pours it down the valley of my breasts. The liquid is icy cold and I cry out as it runs down and soaks my jeans. But he warms me up when his mouth is back on me, sucking and tasting. The alcohol is getting to me because I’m warm and dizzy and fearless. I yank at his hoodie, desperate to see it go. He pulls away long enough to let me remove it and admire his tattooed, sculpted flesh for a moment before diving back in.
“You’re mine,” he snarls, his hot breath tickling me. His teeth tug at my nipple and I cry out, my fingers yanking at his hair.
“Cole,” I whimper. “I need you.”
He pulls away, his eyes dilated with lust and ferocity. Then, I’m yanked off the counter. The bottle hits the floor with a thud and then a glugging can be heard as the liquor spills out. Cole unfastens my jeans and unzips the zipper before twisting me around. My jeans and panties get jerked down my thighs as he pushes me down onto the counter. So many times Alan took me like this. I’d felt vulnerable and helpless. With Cole, I feel desired and wanted. He fumbles with his own pants and then his cock, hot and hard as stone, pushes between my thighs seeking entrance. He has to hold on to it to guide it into my wet opening from behind. From this angle, he feels larger, thicker, longer. I moan as my fingernails scrape along the countertop.
