by J. D. Mason
“Get her legs, man! Hold her!”
She was pinned to the ground. Cristina tried to scream.
“Shut up!” he growled. “Shut the fuck up!”
Oh God! Oh God, no! Not again!
He pushed the hem of her dress up around her waist. She could tell he was fumbling with his belt. Cristina looked ahead and saw the bar in the distance. Cars pulled in and out of the parking lot. People were standing there, talking. She tried to scream but his hand covered her mouth, and with his other hand, he pushed her face down into the ground.
“I said, shut the fuck up, bitch!”
Her hands. He’d pinned her arms to her sides with his thighs. She struggled to free herself, but Drew hit her hard against the back of her head. Cristina was dazed again. Weak. She could feel him, his erection pressing against her. Drew pulled on her panties, tearing them off of her. No! This wasn’t happening again!
“Stop it, or I will fucking kill you!” he growled in her ear.
Then he was going to have to kill her! Cristina gathered every ounce of strength she had inside her, and twisted underneath him until she had turned over onto her side, loosening the grip he had on her mouth long enough to scream. “Noooo!”
He drew his arm back to hit her again, but she wriggled her arm free, reached up to his face, and dragged her nails from his forehead to his fucking eyes!
“Aaaagh!” he cried out.
It was enough, enough for her to wriggle out from under him far enough to reach for a rock, grab it, and swing it hard against the side of his head. Drew fell off of her. She scrambled to her feet and ran.
“Hey!” Ellis said, catching her as she stumbled into his arms. “What…”
He looked at her, and then he looked over her shoulder at Drew who’d stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted the two of them.
Ellis moved her aside. “Drew?” he called out his friend’s name in disbelief. Cristina could see the confusion in Ellis’ eyes as he began to process this scene. “What did you do?” he asked, stalking toward Drew.
Drew raised his hands in surrender. “Nothing, Ellis.”
“He tried to rape me!” Her voice trailed off in hysterical sobs.
“What the fuck did you do, man?” Ellis charged at him like a bull, grabbed ahold of Drew by the collar, raised him off his feet, and slammed him hard into the ground. “What the fuck did you do?” Ellis pounded on him, over and over again, until his fists were covered in Drew’s blood.
Everything was a blur to Cristina. Someone yelled, “Get off him! Stop it!”
Two men dragged Ellis off Drew, who eventually managed to sit up and spit blood. He stared menacingly at Drew and then at Cristina.
“You think that bitch didn’t want it,” he said callously.
She ran toward him in a rage and kicked at him, aiming for his head, but someone caught her and pulled her back inches before her foot found its mark.
“You sonofabitch!” she spat, angrily.
Drew managed to get to his feet just as Ellis shrugged away from the men holding him, but they caught him again.
“Your ass is going back to the pen, motha fucka,” Drew said, wiping blood off his face. “You fucking animal.”
“He raped Daneen, Ellis,” she blurted out, crying.
Ellis stared confused at her.
“He raped her and then threatened her parents’ jobs if she said that it was him.”
Ellis looked back at Drew. “Is that true?” he asked, confused. When Drew didn’t answer, Ellis shirked off the two men holding him again. “Is that fucking true?”
“What difference does it make, Ellis?” Drew said, disgusted. “You crippled a man over that ho!”
The pained expression on Ellis’ face was almost too hard to look at. He was suddenly bombarded with revelations that came too hard and too fast about Daneen, Drew, and Vince.
Ellis grabbed handfuls of his hair and paced back and forth in disgust.
“Daneen’s a non-issue, Ellis,” Drew tried to reason. “She always was. What you did to Vince, you did because of her. Not me.”
Ellis looked like a wounded animal all of a sudden. Cristina watched as he started to fall apart. This is what she hadn’t wanted to happen.
“Ellis,” she said, coming over to him. “Don’t listen to him. Please, don’t listen.”
He stared at her with agony filling his eyes.
“I’m gonna let this pass, Ellis,” Drew said smugly.
Cristina was livid. “You’re not going to dismiss this, Drew,” she said threateningly. She hadn’t done the right thing before, but this time, Cristina was pressing formal charges against this asshole. “I’m not going to be dismissed. I will file charges against you.”
A wry smirk curled his lip. “How far do you think that’s going to get you, sweetheart?” he said sarcastically. “No one knows who the fuck you are in this town. You’re nobody. I’ve got the fucking mayor in my back pocket,” he boasted. “The prosecuting attorney is my goddamned golf buddy, and the chief of police is my mother’s second cousin.” He laughed. “What the fuck do you think is going to happen?”
She felt like throwing up. Ellis stared at her as if to say, “He’s right.”
Drew sauntered off with the few people who’d gathered around to watch the soap opera, leaving Cristina and Ellis alone in the open field. Ellis was crushed, spiritually and emotionally. But Cristina was not going to let Drew win. She picked her purse up off the ground, reached inside, and pulled out her recorder. She’d turned it on when he’d stopped at her table, and it had been running ever since.
She looked up at Ellis.
He held out his hand and she gave it to him. She followed Ellis on his motorcycle in her car. They stopped at a large house on the edge of town. He came over to her window and leaned in.
“You wait here. I’ll be right back.”
“Whose house is this?” she asked, still shaking. Her head throbbed from being hit.
Ellis took a deep breath. “The mayor’s.”
CHAPTER 17
Cristina spent the next two days at his house. Ellis tried not to look like he was drowning in guilt, but he was. All that garbage he’d meditated on during the seven years he was in prison about moving on and letting go, all flushed down the toilet like the bullshit that it was. It was an easier pill to swallow when he thought that Vince had deserved what he’d gotten for what he’d done to Daneen, but now, knowing what he’d done to that man stuck in his throat and slowly choked the life out of him.
“You didn’t know, Ellis,” Cristina said, trying to comfort him.
“It doesn’t matter,” he countered. “I know now.”
Ellis never mentioned the conversation he’d had with his father the other night after Drew attacked Cristina. But the results were acceptable and quick.
Ellis hadn’t set foot in his childhood home in more than ten years. His mother had died in that house when Ellis was twelve. His brother and sister visited regularly with their families, but Ellis had never felt welcome in this place even when he was a kid. Not much had changed. The furniture was different, but the vibe was still the same, suffocating and weighted.
“I assume you have a good reason for coming here this time of night,” his father said, sitting behind that big, intimidating desk of his. It was his shield, his armor, a representation of his big and powerful presence in a world filled with small and insignificant people, like Ellis.
Ellis placed Cristina’s recorder down on his desk and hit the play button. Both men listened to the drama unfold in complete silence, staring unyieldingly at each other until the end.
After several moments, his father took a deep, cleansing breath and asked the obvious. “What do you expect me to do with that?”
Ellis picked the recorder up, and stuffed it into his pocket. “I expect for you to do what you do best,” he said unemotionally. “I expect for you to make him disappear.”
His father turned a ghostly shade of white, leaned back
in his chair, and quietly conceded.
Ellis turned and walked away. “You have one day.”
The following day, news of Drew Jones’ arrest for statutory rape of a fifteen-year-old girl was the talk of the town. Ellis had questions that he knew he’d likely never get answers to. Had Drew really raped a fifteen-year-old girl or had he conveniently been set up to look like he had? And had Ellis’ father always known that Drew was a rapist and decided to look the other way? Some things were probably better left to themselves.
* * *
Cristina spent a lot of time by herself during the days that she stayed with Ellis. He allowed her space and time to sort things out in her head. She looked good walking around the house wearing his shirts, though. She’d been out on the deck all evening. Ellis stepped outside too and stood next to her.
“You hungry?”
She shook her head. “No.”
Food cured most everything in his mind. Not so much in hers.
Ellis needed to touch her, to connect with her, and she’d done a pretty good job of keeping her distance, with good reason. She’d been through a lot, and probably just like before, she was determined to deal with it alone. On the one hand, he understood that, but on the other, something about it just didn’t feel like the right thing to do.
He pulled up a chair, sat down next to her, rested his elbows on his knees, and leaned close to her. “This whole thing has been a mess,” he said earnestly. “Me and you’ve got a lot to straighten out, but not necessarily alone.”
She blinked away tears and held on stubbornly to them to keep them from falling. He admired her courage.
“You kicked his ass, Cristina,” he said admiringly.
She glanced unexpectedly at him.
He smiled. “You got away and you kicked his ass.”
It took a few minutes for that to sink in but when it did, she almost smiled.
Ellis resolved himself to the fact that he was never going to be able to make up for some of the mistakes he’d made in his life. Vince was never going to walk again, and Ellis would never forgive himself for that. But somehow, he’d have to find a way to live with it. That was his burden. But if he could help it, she wasn’t going to have another regret. And before she left here, he was going to have to find a way to convince her of that.
“I don’t know how to tell you that I don’t want to let you go,” he eventually said. The desperation he felt right now was so overwhelming that he almost couldn’t breathe. “Everything about us is broken, Cristina, but broken or not, I’ve never wanted anything so badly in my life.” He stared back into her eyes, looking for a sign that maybe she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
“How could it possibly work between two shattered people, Ellis?” she asked, sweetly pressing her hand to his cheek. “Who’s going to fix us?”
He managed to smile. “We fix each other.” He took hold of her hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed it. “Could you love me, Cristina?” he humbly asked. “On a good day, if the world was perfect, could you love me?”
She nodded and smiled with tears in her eyes. “Oh absolutely,” she said, moving over to his lap, cradling his face, and kissing him.
Ellis gathered her in his arms, carried her inside the house, and upstairs to the bedroom. He wanted to make love to her, but if she wasn’t ready, then he’d wait as long as she needed him to.
He lowered her feet to the floor and Ellis sat down on the side of the bed. “Tell me what you want me to do?” he asked, staring up into her eyes.
She stepped in closer to him and pressed her forehead against his. “Be patient with me,” she whispered.
He kissed her. “I can do that.”
Cristina straightened up and began unbuttoning her shirt.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked.
“I’m choosing to be ready.” Cristina pushed the shirt off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
She stood naked in front of him and took his breath away. Ellis pulled her into his arms, pressed his face to her chest, and inhaled, committing her scent to memory. Cristina straddled him, pressed her lips to his, and swept her delicious tongue into his mouth.
Patience, Ellis, he commanded himself. If he rushed this, if he acted a fool and lost control, he could easily blow this whole damn thing. Ellis’ dick swelled and pressed hard against the fabric of his jeans, pulsing in anticipation of being inside her. She broke the seal of their kiss, breathless and clinging to him as if her life depended on him. And that’s what he wanted. He wanted her to need him.
“We’ll go slow,” he assured her. “If you want me to stop…”
“I won’t.” She kissed him again.
Ellis gently rolled her over onto the bed, then stood over her, undid his jeans, and slipped out of them. She stared at him, biting down on her bottom lip, looking pensive. He was rock hard, and worried that the moment he slipped inside her beautiful body, he’d explode. Ellis reached over to the nightstand, pulled out a condom, and slipped it on. It would help—some.
He braced his arms on either side of her, and hovered for a moment before lowering his mouth to her breast, devouring one delicious nipple and then the other. Cristina grabbed handfuls of his hair, arched her back, and fed herself to him.
“Ellisssss,” she hissed.
She’d said his name.
It had been a long time for her. Cristina spread her legs, and Ellis eased his finger in between the folds of her pussy, curious as to whether she’d accept him. To his surprise, she moaned when he touched her, took hold of his wrist, and guided his hand to the rhythm of her choosing. Cristina’s juices seeped onto the mattress, and even pooled in his palm. Ellis’ heart beat like drums. She was ready, and he was going crazy with anticipation.
He climbed up onto the bed, nestled his thighs between hers. Ellis lowered his lips to hers, balanced on his elbows, pushed the tip of his cock against the soft folds of her body, and stopped. Cristina stared up at him, and without warning, thrust her hips against him, inviting him inside her. Ellis pushed into her, just the tip, waited, and then pulled all the way out. He was going to make this last. He was going to make it good. Cristina’s hands cupped his ass, and her gaze never strayed from his. Ellis pushed into her again, a little farther this time, licking his lips and relishing the warmth and the wetness of her. Damn! Her pussy was lovely. He stayed still for a few moments, and then slowly eased out of her again.
“Put it in,” she begged, digging her fingers into his ass. “Please, Ellis.”
That’s what he needed to hear. In one long, slow, steady motion, Ellis pushed into her to the hilt. Cristina closed her eyes and gasped. It took every ounce of restraint he had not to lose his damn mind and pump her pussy into a froth. But it was so good. Ellis buried his face in the pillow next to her head, took a deep breath, and lay perfectly still. Control. He needed to control himself. And he would’ve been fine, but Cristina’s pussy convulsed around him, and Ellis damn near lost it.
“Shit!” He grunted into the pillow.
She bit into his shoulder, and held onto him like he was everything. She needed this. Damnit! Ellis had to hold off for her sake. He reached underneath her, wrapped his arm around her waist, pushed up on his knees, and raised her up onto his lap. Cristina wrapped her shapely legs around him, and pushed herself up and down on his shaft in a frenzy, holding onto him with one hand behind his neck, the other on his thigh.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmured.
The ecstasy on her face was mesmerizing. She arched her back, jutted those beautiful breasts toward him, and rode him like her life depended on it. Cristina cried out and pulled herself up, pressing her head to his when she came, surprising herself and him. She started to shake, and she held him closer, her whole body convulsing uncontrollably until she scared him.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he murmured into her ear, and kissed her shoulder. “It’s good, baby. It’s all good.”
She wouldn’t let him go. But
he didn’t want her to. Ellis lowered her back down onto her back, grabbed hold of one of the spindles on the headboard, and thrust slow and deep into her, losing himself to this journey to his own release. He’d wanted her from the moment he first saw her. Ellis had craved her like he’d never craved another woman in his life.
“Oh, shit!” he heard himself say. “Hold on, Cristina. Hold on to me, sweetheart!”
Wood splintered. His cock pulsed and throbbed until it ached low in his gut.
“Ellis!”
He heard his name.
“Fuck!”
Sound disappeared into a vacuum. An explosion erupted from him that shook him to the core, rippling his spine. Ellis came so hard that he thought he’d pass out.
And when it was over, he inhaled her again, kissed the side of her neck, and begged the question. “Did I hurt you?”
CHAPTER 18
3 months later …
Of course he was overwhelmed, but surprisingly, Ellis had handled himself like a pro. The gallery opening had been a huge success, attended by some of the most prestigious art collectors from all over the world. He’d shown up looking like a cowboy, wearing his signature jeans and work boots. Cristina had talked him into buying a decent shirt and sport coat. He’d shaved, and had even agreed to get a haircut for the event, at Jules’ urging. He was the belle of the ball and when it was all said and done, Ellis had probably sold a couple of million dollars’ worth of paintings tonight.
Cristina had been looking for him for fifteen minutes when she finally found him standing on the balcony looking out over the Manhattan skyline. Months ago, he’d told her that the two of them were both very broken people, and he’d been right. They couldn’t magically make their pasts disappear, but they were learning to cope, together. Ellis had sent money to Ms. Lucinda to help take care of Vince. She’d stopped by one day, and told him that the money would never make up for the life he’d stolen from her son, but that it would help to ease some of the burden of having to take care of him, so she’d take it.
Drew was sentenced to five years in prison for rape, and Ellis’ father went on about his business as if he’d never even known Drew Jones.
