“I’m okay.” I watched the police take the assailant away, his black mask now removed. They marched him out, and I was grateful he was gone. I wasn’t afraid of him, but I was certainly afraid of what Calloway would do to him. “This guy robbed my apartment, but he didn’t take anything.”
“Did he hit you?”
“When I saw him inside, we got into it. He hit me a few times before I broke his nose and pinned him to the floor. Then the police arrived and arrested him. So everything is fine. Honestly, it looks worse than it feels.”
He dragged his hands down his face, a vein throbbing in his forehead. He looked like he was about to scream at the top of his lungs. He took a deep breath to steady himself but that didn’t dim his anger. “You knew he was inside, and you came in anyway?”
“I was robbed last year, and it really sucked. I wasn’t going to let someone take my shit again. Last time, they got my Michael Jordan—”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He got in my face again, screaming. “You don’t go inside. Rome, he could have killed you.”
“I wasn’t afraid of him.”
“That’s not the fucking point.” He threw his arms down, furious. “He could have had a gun or a knife.”
“Well, I’m protecting my shit.”
“Is your shit worth your life?” His hands balled into his fists until his knuckles turned white.
“No. But I’m not letting anyone think they can scare me. If you cross me, I’m coming after you. That’s the point.”
He dragged his hands down his face again.
“Nothing happened. I kicked his ass, and the police took him away.”
“But it could have turn out completely different, and you know it. Why didn’t you just wait in the hall and call the cops.”
“Because he could have run down the fire escape.”
Calloway walked away and started pacing the room, shaking the floorboards with his heavy footsteps. He was about to explode again, yelling in my face and calling me a goddamn lunatic.
I admit my actions weren’t the smartest, but I wasn’t thinking in the moment. I just reacted. I’d learned to fight a long time ago, and I didn’t see a problem using my skills when they mattered. “I’m sorry I upset you, but the past is in the past. Move on.”
He turned back to me, his eyes burning holes in my skin. “Pack your shit. You’re staying with me.”
“They’ll fix the door tomorrow. It’s not a big deal.”
“You. Are. Staying. With. Me.”
I wasn’t a fan of the bossiness—not like this. “I’ll just stay at Christopher’s. It’s fine.” I knew Calloway didn’t want me to sleep over, and I really didn’t want to be invited just because I had nowhere else to stay.
“You don’t understand what I’m saying.” He jabbed his finger into his chest with every word. “You aren’t living here anymore, Rome. It’s not safe, and I can’t handle it anymore. You’re staying with me until we find something better.”
“There is nothing better, Calloway. You think I haven’t looked?”
“Trust me, there is.”
“But nothing I can afford.” I didn’t want to make this about money. It was an awkward subject, especially since he was wealthy. I didn’t want him to feel bad for me since I didn’t even have a savings account. Happiness was measured in different ways. “Really, it’s fine. I can stay with Christopher, and the door will be fixed tomorrow. I know you’re upset, but you’re overreacting.”
“Overreacting?” He got in my face with the look of a madman. “You just told me you’ve been robbed before.”
“But it’s not that big of a deal—”
“What if someone tries to rape you next? Or kill you?”
Again, he was overreacting.
“My girlfriend isn’t going to stay in a place like this. That’s the end of this discussion.”
“Excuse me?” I hissed. “No, it’s not the end of the discussion just because you say so.”
“You bet your ass it is.” He looked down into my face with the threat of a king. “You will do as I say. You will not question me. When I tell you to do something, all you’re responsible for is doing it.”
“I’m not a dog, Calloway.”
“I never said you were. But you need to listen to me.”
“Fuck you.” Hell no, I wasn’t letting him boss me around like he owned me. “I’m willing to listen to your opinion and advice, but that’s it. I make all the decisions for myself. I’ve never needed a man to do that for me.”
“Well, that’s about to change.” He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me against his body. “You’re staying with me. End of discussion.”
“You don’t even want me there.”
“I wouldn’t ask if I felt otherwise.”
“Are you going to make me sleep outside like a dog?” I hissed. “Since I can’t stay in your bed?”
He glared at me, his look hotter than fiery coals. “Get your shit, and you’ll find out.” He finally released my arm. “I always win, Rome. Fight me all you want, but I promise you that outcome won’t change. Save yourself the time and energy, and just do what I say. Now.”
“Fuck. You.”
He grabbed both of my shoulders and shoved me into the wall. He held my hands above my head and kept me in place, pinning me with his strength. I couldn’t even wiggle. “I’m supposed to take care of you. Now let me.” His face was so close that his lips brushed against mine when he spoke. “I’m not asking you to stay with me out of obligation. I’m doing it because I want you under my roof where I can look after you. I want you to be in a safe place because you’re the most important thing in my life. I have to protect you. If something ever happened to you, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He finally released my wrists. “Now pack your stuff and let’s go.”
17
Calloway
I set her bags in the entryway then grabbed her face with both of my hands. The swelling around her eyes was fierce, turning black and blue from the popped blood vessels. The guy hit her hard, slamming his knuckles right where it counted. Her bottom lip was swollen, but the bleeding finally stopped.
I felt…dead inside.
“I think we should go to the doctor tomorrow. I’ll make an appointment.”
“Calloway, I’m fine. Nothing will help the swelling go down other than time itself. And the bruises will go away on their own too. If I take a few pain killers, I’ll be good.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to get an exam.”
“I’m not going.” She said it with her aggressive attitude then picked up one of the bags from the floor. “I’m going to shower. Which bedroom is mine?” She glanced at the stairs before she turned back to me. Her eyes were glued to mine with the same fierceness she always possessed.
“Mine.” My past and my nightmares couldn’t control me forever. If I didn’t move on, I would be stuck in this vortex forever. A true man needed to face his fears and conquer them. Could I call myself a man if I didn’t take my own advice?
Rome knew I didn’t want her in there. She could read my expression because she understood it. She’d been studying it every single time we’d been together. Now she was a pro. “I’ll just find a vacant one.” She walked up the stairs to the next landing until she disappeared.
I watched her go without stopping her. When she was out of earshot, I went into the kitchen and whipped up food for both of us, making an easy meal of spaghetti. All I could think about was having her in my bedroom, and it gave me so much anxiety that I could barely breathe. Just the idea of having someone in the house while I was unconscious terrified me.
Could I do this?
She sat beside me on the couch, her arm hooked through mine. She pulled her hair into a ponytail because she’d just washed and moisturized her face. It was the first time I’d seen her without makeup.
And I thought she looked beautiful.
Her skin was just as flawless without foundation on. Sometimes, there
was a difference in tone above her cheek and below it, but those negligent flaws didn’t mar her obvious perfection. Her eyes looked smaller without makeup, but somehow, they looked brighter. The natural intensity of her eyes made them stand out like diamonds in the dark.
She felt me staring at her, so she turned my way. “Hmm?”
I didn’t hide my gaze. I didn’t care if she knew I was staring at her. I didn’t hide my actions from anyone, and if they bothered her, she could walk away. But I knew she never would. “I like the way you look without makeup.”
She rolled her eyes like my compliment was absurd. “Yeah, okay.”
“I’m being serious.”
“The only reason why I took it off around you is because my face is screwed up anyway.” Her lip was still swollen, and her left eye would be dark for days.
Every time I looked at her injuries, I felt rage bubble deep inside me. I’d find out who her assailant was, and even if he went to jail, I’d still find a way to torture him. I’d break through those bars just to strangle him for laying a hand on my girl.
Having her stay with me wasn’t the best option, but I knew she would be offended if I got her a new apartment. She would never take my money, no matter how much I pushed her. She had too much pride and self-respect to rely on me for anything. While it frustrated me, it was still a turn-on. Any other woman would take my gifts without blinking an eye over it. But she was too strong to accept help.
Everything about her was contradictory.
“Even with the bruises, you’re stunning.” My hand rested on the back of her neck, and I massaged her gently, feeling the loose strands of soft hair that didn’t make it into her ponytail. My thumb rested against her pulse, and I felt it quicken under my touch. I aroused her, excited her, even if she tried to hide it.
“You’re sweet, Calloway…”
“Honest. There’s a difference. You know I’ll say stuff to piss you off tomorrow.”
The corner of her lips rose into a smile. “I know that all too well.” She moved from my embrace and gave me a quick kiss right in the corner of my mouth. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” She didn’t glance at me as she reached the stairs then disappeared.
The awkwardness settled on my shoulders like the weight of the world. Not having my girlfriend sleep with me while staying in my home was the weirdest thing ever, and I knew that’s what she was thinking even if she didn’t say it. It was strange, to say the least.
With my subs, I didn’t sleep with them simply because I didn’t want to. And I didn’t need to explain that. It was okay to be an asshole because I was the one in charge.
But Rome was different.
I walked to the third story then found the bedroom she was staying in. I lightly rapped my fingers against the door. “Sweetheart.”
“Come in.”
I cracked the door and walked inside. The guest bedroom had a private bathroom and more space than a single person could ever need.
She was already lying in bed, her tiny frame looking remarkably small in the large bed. The sheets were a mixture of brown and gold, and the accompanying furniture was constructed of fine dark wood. A TV was mounted on the wall between two windows covered by curtains that matched the bedspread.
I sat at the edge of the bed and searched her face in the darkness. Even without a single light on, I could see the brilliance of her eyes. They possessed their own light that shone outward with its own vibrancy.
She sat up and rested her back against the headboard, wearing a loose t-shirt that hid all of her delectable curves from view. Her hair had been pulled from the ponytail, and now her long strands framed her shoulders. There was an obvious kink where the band had constricted her hair. “What’s up?”
I had no obligation to tell her a damn thing about my past. Keeping my secrets was a much easier way of life. During my time with Isabella, I didn’t tell her a single thing about myself. She didn’t know about my father, my mother, or the other things I’d seen in my lifetime. It was all about business with her, fucking and fucking hard. But with Rome, I wanted to tell her. I wanted to give her more of myself than I’d given to anyone else. She’d confided her secrets to me and asked me not to pity her. I needed to do the same. “My father had an unusual style of punishment.”
When Rome heard me speak, she stiffened slightly. Her eyes didn’t blink, and she watched me with concentration. She didn’t even breathe, like making a single sound would chase me away.
“He told me the act of punishment isn’t what gets to people. It’s the anticipation. Waiting and knowing what’s coming is worse than the pain itself. It does crazy things to the body, makes it clench up with anxiety. Your heart palpitates, and you sweat out your entire body weight. The feeling of doom drowns you.”
She moved her hands to her lap and kept her eyes on me the entire time.
“When I did something my father didn’t agree with, he told me I would be punished. But he never told me when or how. I had to use my imagination to figure it out on my own.”
For the first time, she blinked. She waited so long that her eyes started to water.
“My punishments were always served during the night. He waited until I went to sleep, and just when I was in the land of dreams, he would strike. He would yank me from the bed, hitting me with a bat or doing things I won’t speak of. The punishments themselves were never the worst part. It was trying to fight sleep because I knew what was coming. It was exhausting myself by trying to stay awake that killed me. It was the suffocating feeling of wondering when he was going to get me. That was the worst part, by far.”
Her eyes continued to water, but not because she hadn’t blinked.
“That’s why I can’t sleep with anyone. If someone’s lying next to me, I won’t be able to sleep. And if I do fall asleep, I’ll have nightmares. I need the door locked so I know no one can get to me. When I told you it had nothing to do with you, I meant it.”
“Calloway…” She reached for me and placed her hand around my wrist.
I stared at her hand, momentarily feeling bliss run through my veins. It was one of the few times she touched me, and I didn’t immediately think of pinning her down against the mattress and having my way with her. All I thought about were her fingertips and how soft they felt against my skin. Her hand was cold in comparison to mine, and the effect was oddly soothing.
But then it disappeared just as quickly as it came. “Don’t feel bad for me.” I looked into her eyes and gave her a command, a silent one. She had to obey me since I gave her the same respect.
She closed her eyes for thirty seconds, taking my words to heart. When she opened them, her usual look of resilience had returned. She gave me that closed-off expression, hiding her thoughts. “Of course.” My request was something she understood too well, and I didn’t have to fight her over it. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Not sure why I did.” I didn’t owe her anything. The two of us were spending time together and exploring each other. There was no love involved. Forever certainly wasn’t involved either. But my body was constantly aching for hers, and not just the swell of her breasts or her tight pussy. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and protect her from the world.
I also wanted to give her the world.
“I do.” She wrapped her finger around mine, making them hook together. Her voice carried like a whisper, softer than the wind and nearly inaudible.
I only heard it because I was staring at her lips.
“We’re the same, Calloway.”
We’re not the same. I was the dark, and she was the light. If she really knew me, understood the type of kinky shit I was into, she’d understand we were nothing alike. Maybe she possessed some of the same heartache. Maybe she understood true suffering. But even then, we weren’t on the same level.
And we never would be.
When I went downstairs the following morning, it smelled like pancakes and vanilla mixed together. The scent wafted through the
kitchen and all the way up the stairs, making the house smell better than it had in years.
She stood at the stove and shoveled flapjacks onto a plate before she turned off the burners.
I didn’t want to scare her, so I chose to stare at her instead. She wore a tight, black pencil skirt with a teal blouse. I loved both colors on her because they complimented the shade of her skin. It was darker than cream but lighter than tan. And it was so soft. You could tell just by looking at it.
I wondered how red it could get.
She turned in my direction, probably to walk out of the kitchen and let me know breakfast was ready. She stopped in her tracks and covered her chest like she was about to have a heart attack. “Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me.”
I loved seeing her flustered, so I continued to stare at her.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to check out your ass.”
“You check out my ass even when you know I’m looking.”
I shrugged. “True.”
She set the plate on the table. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m always hungry for pancakes.” I wrapped my arms around her waist and kissed her. “And you.” The ChapStick on her mouth tasted like vanilla, and I was starting to wonder if she did it on purpose. Her perfume was the same scent.
“Well, I take less time to prepare than pancakes.”
“Saves you time.” I squeezed her hips and pulled her tight against me, her tits pressed to my chest. I’d never tit-fucked her, and it was on my bucket list. But I really needed to fuck her soon. All this touching and kissing was going straight to my dick.
When she pulled away, she squeezed my arms, her favorite feature. “How’d you sleep?”
Black Obsidian Page 17
