Indelible: Beneath His Ink (Teal and Trent Book 2)

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Indelible: Beneath His Ink (Teal and Trent Book 2) Page 3

by Inger Iversen


  “I choose making love instead of fucking.” Her now unassumingly coy voice shocked Trent as much as her words had. Her approach had changed from a little sexy kitten, to a coquettish little bird, and Trent sensed this was who the real Faye was.

  Shoving him away with a gentle push, Faye stared him in the eyes as she removed her clothes.

  Trent growled and stroked his cock. “Leave the panties for me.”

  She hesitated only for a second before acquiescing to his demand. Before long, she stood in front of him with pert breasts, thick thighs, and a slight tremble.

  Once again, Trent found himself reaching for her hand. “Take me to where you are most comfortable.” Her brow dipped as if she needed to think of the place to take him. “Is there a place here you feel safe?”

  Faye shook her head still seeming confused. “This is my home—”

  “I know that, but you didn’t answer my question.” Trent, more than anyone, understood that home didn’t always mean safety.

  Nibbling on her lip, she stood frozen in thought. “Um . . .” Trent would wait hours if she needed. Every choice would be hers and for her comfort.

  Moments later, she pulled him away from the stairs that he was sure led to her bedroom, and down a hall off the living room. “I—I know a place.”

  He followed silently behind her. Could he do this? Could he make love to her, then just up and disappear? Because there was no doubt in his mind that come morning, he would not still be there. He followed her down the long hall, passing fancy, decorated room after room, until they arrived at the closed door. Then, she led him into a large library.

  Trent took in the room like a kid. He wasn’t much of a reader, but Trent could admit when he was impressed. And fuck, was he impressed. He’d never seen anything like it. Painted in warm dark browns and rich blue hues, the room had large plush leather reading chairs placed strategically around a stone faced fireplace. “Fuck, Faye. I could move into this bitch and live here.”

  Her laughter brought his gaze to her. “I always feel safe here, so it’s nice to see that you like it.”

  Realizing that he’d wandered away from her, he made his way back, leaned in, and kissed her so deeply he tasted her passion, pleasure, and pain. She trusted him, thought him worthy enough to see her safe haven, even when she’d felt vulnerable and exposed. With gratitude at what she was giving him, he gave her everything he could possibly give that night, swallowing each moan and plea as they made love on the chaise lounge.

  Slipping away from a night of passion was no easy feat, yet Trent had perfected the art of abandonment. He’d dressed and grabbed his boots within minutes of waking up. Maybe it stemmed from the many before who’d left him in his time of need, or maybe it was his new inability to commit. Neither reason mattered to him, as he quietly placed one foot in front of the other.

  Trent took each step, carefully avoiding any path he thought would give away his position in the room. Once at the door, he slid through and gently closed it behind him. With no light to illuminate his path, he reached out blindly, using walls to guide him forward. He made his way down the long hallway into the main room where he and Faye had started their exploration of one another. Trent glanced to the spot where he first touched Faye, and groaned.

  He pictured her warm, tanned body sprawled out on the plush rug of her safe room, sated and sleeping, right where he’d left her. He imagined himself walking right back down the hall, spreading her thighs wide, and sliding home into her slick warm body.

  Instead, he headed to the fridge and opened it up searching for something to drink before he left. He saw some ice-cold beer waiting to be devoured. Pulling one out, he twisted the top and chugged half of the contents.

  Setting the bottle on the counter, he went back into the fridge; this time for food. He couldn’t hear the music from the party, but he was sure it still raged on, as it was only two in the morning. Popping a couple of pieces of sandwich meat into his mouth, he wondered if Jake and Logan were still there, or if they’d left his ass.

  If it were the latter, he’d have to call Logan to come and pick him up. He groaned as he remembered how damned nosey Logan’s neighbor was. Last fucking thing he needed was that woman wondering where his dick was. Trent made to grab the bottle and a shrill scream broke into the silence of the night.

  Trent straightened so damned fast, the beer bottle shot from the counter and shattered onto the floor. Ignoring the mess, he darted through the house and out of the front door where the screaming continued. The sound of Faye’s groggy voice sounded from the steps. He turned to face her just as her bare feet hit the stone walk way.

  She strode closer to him. “ What the hell is happening?” Shoving her disheveled hair from her face she turned and faced the crowd. The scream rang out again, causing her face to pale at the words the woman spoke.

  “He raped me. He fucking raped me.”

  It took only a moment for Trent to see the gravity of the situation without the screaming accusation of rape. From the wild look in the blonde’s eyes, to the ripped clothing she tried so hard to keep covering her bruised body. Trent had seen this before with his sister Paula and the abusive men she continually brought home.

  “Shit.” He reached out and pulled Faye into his chest. “Do me a favor and stay here.” Defiance lit her eyes as she stared up at him. Leaning in, he placed a chaste kiss to her lips. “Just in case.”

  “In case what?” She gently pulled away. “I’m not scared and I need to know what happened over there.”

  Knowing her ass wasn’t going to listen to him, he took her hand in his and made his way over to the growing crowd. Faye’s body shook in his arms as she spoke in a small voice, so unlike the strong-willed woman he’d spoken to earlier. “What happened?”

  Trent was sure he didn’t need to answer, since the woman screamed rape at the top of her lungs. The unseen threat had Trent pulling Faye closer. A stranger she may be, but Trent was not about to let her go until the situation was under control.

  Placing a hand over her plush stomach, he leaned in and spoke in a calm, yet hopefully reassuring tone. “Stay close to me.” He did a quick survey of the area, nothing seeming too out of place. “I am not sure if the guy is still here or not.”

  His words caused Faye to jolt in his arms. Her head swiveled from side to side, as if she too were looking for the unknown assailant. He didn’t believe she’d be snatched from his arms and raped, but as he watched the blonde woman hold her torn clothes to her body, Trent’s stomach churned and he could not help but be dragged back to his childhood. When he was younger, he had been too weak to protect his sister. It wasn’t until he got older and took an interest in the gym that he was able to best the men his sister brought home.

  The sound of loud feet pounding across the street, and men cursing, pulled Trent from his thoughts. A crew of college guys broke through the fray of the crowd and headed straight for the crying woman. The blonde woman opened her eyes and as she saw the men coming forward she stiffened, as did Trent. With his arms still wrapped protectively around Faye, he moved closer to the woman and tensed for a fight, until he watched as the blonde fell into the arms of one of the guys.

  “He fucking raped me, Julian!” The blonde screamed at the top of her lungs. Her tear-streaked face darkened as mascara fled down her cheeks, and swollen lips smeared with pink lipstick dipped into a frown as she grasped her shirt closer to her chest.

  Trent took in her body, noting the bruising on her wrists, where she was most likely held down during her ordeal. Also visible, the darkening bruise on her cheek and what looked to be oval-like bruises over her exposed arms and chest right over her breasts. He narrowed his eyes, squinting hard to get a better view of the oval marking.

  Shifting closer for a better look, Trent was shocked at what he gathered were teeth marks. His blood boiled at the thought of some piece of shit out there, probably jetting off in his BMW, laughing at the poor girl after using and abusing her body.
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br />   “Jesus,” Faye whispered in a quavering voice.

  He’d nearly forgotten she was with him. Glancing down at her, he noted her expression wasn’t the same as the other women whose expressions ranged from disbelief to even annoyance. Faye on the other hand had covered her mouth and sported a bright sheen to her eyes. She appeared to be in shock, her body shook; tears flooded her eyes and her fingers tightly clasped around his shirt.

  Trent pulled her even closer, hoping to shield her from the chaos, as the woman’s friends finally surrounded her. Men shouted out directions and a vague description of the man they’d seen her with. At this rate, they’d never find him since one guy recalled her being with a Delta Nu frat brother, while a different male recalled her with a guy from his fraternity.

  Meanwhile, Trent searched the growing crowd for Logan and Jake, wondering if they were aware of the situation out on the lawn, or if they were even still there.

  Faye’s sniffling brought his attention back to her, only to find her bright, golden eyes overflowing with tears. The playful glint was gone, engulfed in a hidden darkness. Without asking, he knew something similar had happened to her, or someone she knew.

  Jutting his chin in the direction of the melee, Trent spoke softly, “Do you know her?”

  Faye glanced over her shoulder again. “We shared a class freshman year.” Turning her face back to him, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his chest. “She and I don’t hang in the same group of friends.” Swallowing hard she added, “But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t need my support.” She moved from his arms and turned to face the woman with doubt in her eyes.

  Trent agreed, although he loathed letting her go. He thought back to his sister, Paula, and wondered how things would have fared differently if she’d had any female friends. He’d often consoled her and reminded her of her worth, yet Trent knew his words had always fallen on deaf ears when his sister would return to her abuser. Maybe there was something to be said about female solidarity.

  It seemed that some women often times found their strength in numbers, and there was nothing wrong with that kind of empowerment.

  Turning her in his arms, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss to her lips. “If you want me to wait here while you go talk, I will.” Sensing she was unsure, he added, “Or not. It’s completely up to you.” He didn’t want to force her.

  Surprising him, she freed herself from his arms. “I’m going to head over there. I mean, if she tells me to leave her alone, then I will. But I just—” Taking her bottom lip between her pearly whites, she took a step away from Trent. “Um, so you’ll be around?”

  Trent glanced around again for Logan. “I need to find my ride. Make sure they didn’t leave me.” His libido had calmed, and at this point, he just wanted to make sure she made it home safe. “If you need me, holler, yeah?”

  With a nod she smiled. “Okay, if I’m not here—”

  “Either be here, or safe in your house with the doors locked.” He’d meant to amend his rough tone, but as her smile widened, he knew he’d done well.

  “If I am not here when you get back, you can just come over to my place.”

  Trent watched as she made her way into the crowd, then leaned in and spoke to the blonde. She glanced over her shoulder to give him a reassuring smile. Only then did he turn away and head up the lawn to the front door of the frat house. He knew the definition of a one nightstand, and that meant he couldn’t go back to Faye’s house after this. When he walked inside, pity for the woman assaulted truly hit him.

  The bass music still bumped, partygoers swayed with drinks in hand, as if a woman hadn't been beaten and raped at this very party. Though the crowd had thinned out, Trent still had to shoulder his way through. He headed up the stairs after a quick search in the main house. After knocking on doors and being cussed out, Trent headed back to the car, only to find Logan propped against the hood and Jake sitting in the driver’s seat.

  “Hey!” Logan called out to Trent as soon as he saw him.

  Trent strode up to the car. “Why are you two over here? You see what happened over there?”

  Jake jumped from the driver’s seat and sidled around the car. He’d removed the stupid blazer and hoodie, revealing a white muscle shirt. “Nah, what’s going on?” He walked past Trent and stopped, taking in the group of people standing around.

  Trent turned and saw light bruising on Jake’s neck. Having experienced that exact thing after a night with a feisty woman in the past, he knew exactly what they were. Catching Logan’s attention, he gestured to Jake’s neck.

  Damn, man,” Logan said. “You meant it when you said you were coming to get laid.”

  Jake reached up and covered the hickey with a palm. Face twisted into a grimace, he asked. “What the fuck else do you come to a college party for? To have sound conversation about the varieties of race, class, ethnicity in women in society or some shit? Or to score?”

  Logan laughed and threw his hands up in surrender.

  “Besides,” Jake’s face morphed into a devilish smile, “when I came looking for you, you were nestled tits deep in some redhead.”

  The two high-fived, while Trent stood off to the side, pissed they were ignoring the situation. Having had enough, he spoke loudly to interrupt their bro moment. “Some girl was raped.”

  Both men froze and shut the hell up. Well, that stopped their hooting and hollering about chicks and getting laid.

  Trent sensed Logan’s reaction before he even saw the man move. He took a few menacing steps toward the crowd, as if his hotheaded anger could not only kick the rapist’s ass, but unrape the poor girl as well.

  Logan seethed and increased his pace, nearly making it past Trent. “The fuck do you mean raped?” Teeth clenched, back ramrod straight, and fists balled at his sides, his friend was aching for a fight.

  Trent shifted his stance and threw out his arm. He had just come from over there and the man who'd hurt the woman was long gone. Logan’s presence was not needed. Hell, the last thing that woman needed was another raging bull headed toward her. “She doesn’t need you, brother. She’s in safe hands right now.”

  Logan’s eyes narrowed, no doubt questioning the certainty of Trent’s words.

  “Trust me.” Trent could still see Faye’s expression of determination as she made her way through the crowd.

  He dropped his arm, sure that Logan would back down. They’d built a trust over the years, and Trent wouldn’t lie to the man. Well, at least not about this—his past was a different story.

  Jake pulled an abused toothpick from his pocket and stuck it back in his mouth. “Shit, maybe she liked it rough.”

  Both Trent and Logan turned to the man, disgusted by his indifferent attitude. The words of his sister’s ex blasted through his mind as he remembered watching her limping through the house black and blue. Meanwhile, her current POS of the week spouted similar shit.

  Trent couldn’t control his need to hurt Jake, he moved before his brain knew where he was headed, and ended up in Jake’s face, with a fist full of his muscle shirt. “You saying that girl deserved what happened to her back there?”

  Logan went stock-still, tensed and ready for action.

  Jake’s laughter broke through the silence. The little piss ant had found humor in his situation. His manic laughter gave Trent pause and hit his off switch.

  Jake stepped back and used his car to support his weight while he wiped tears from his face. “Dude, I am kidding with you, but let me ask you this,” his laughter ended, his tone now severe, “if she were raped, why aren’t the cops here? Why didn’t she run out of that house and demand the cops be called?” He pushed himself off the car and straightened his shirt. “Sounds like a drama hag, looking for attention if you ask me.”

  Trent glanced back over to the crowd that had thinned a bit. Noting Jake’s observation that there were no red and blue lights flashing, no cops busting up the party, and not one male rounded up to sit on the curb to be inte
rviewed. Had Trent not seen the battered crying woman himself, had he not looked into her eyes—eyes just like his sister’s after a beating—he too would wonder at the validity of her claim. Before Trent had a chance to say this, Logan spoke.

  “Nah. Just ‘cause the cops ain’t here, don’t mean something didn’t happen.” Trent nodded, showing his support of the statement. “And honestly, maybe we should be the ones to call the—”

  Jake lurched forward. “Fuck that. I ain’t calling the law over some dumb broad!” The vehemence in his voice had Trent swinging back around to eye the man. “I am not getting involved with that shit.” Pointing in the direction of the crowd he added, “Besides, we need to leave. Shit, this is just like that night that chick said Poe Boy tried to rape her.”

  Trent shoved a hand through his hair and laughed. “We all know how that turned out.” He only found the situation humorous because the chick had never accused Poe Boy of rape. Poe Boy joked about how he liked to wake his woman up with his face buried deep between her legs, and it’d been misconstrued into rape some way.

  That’s what happened when you ran your mouth about the girls you were currently fucking, around the girls you’d recently fucked over. Trent relaxed a bit. “Poe Boy’s problem is he can't keep the Jim Beam out of his system and enjoys bragging about who he’s fucked.”

  Logan guffawed. “Shit, I remember that night.”

  Jake coughed and turned his head to spit. When he turned back to Logan and Trent, his earlier jovial expression had morphed into a contemptuous sneer. "No, that mother fucker’s problem is that he likes his women like he likes his liquor."

  Trent's brow bowed in feigned confusion, as did Logan's. He knew what the asshole meant, but he liked to fuck with him. Snapping his fingers, he said, “I got it. Strong and free?”

  "Fuck. You dumb or something, boy?” Jake spat. “You do all this talking ‘bout being part of the KKK, yet you don’t get a joke about coons when one’s made?"

 

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