When You Only Need To Ask (The House of Sin: The Beginning)

by Hadleigh Stephens

  “Why can’t you understand that you and I don’t want the same thing?” He doesn’t respond to me. He’s in his own little world.

  “I’m going to chain you up and make you obey.”

  “My brothers would never allow you to take me away.” My voice is a hoarse whisper. I want to shrink away from the harshness of his gaze, but his hand grips my hair even tighter around his long fingers leaving me little choice. His pupils dilate at the idea, turning the blue into a harsh shade midnight.

  “I don’t give a fuck what your brothers’ want.” His jaw turns to stone. His eyes darken, if that’s even possible, like a starless night as he tugs, controlling me by my hair, dragging me back towards the bed. He tosses me on top of the mattress and climbs up to straddle my hips.

  My eyes widen with those words. I’m not able to pretend that fear doesn’t flicker in their depths when he leans so close. “Why are you doing this, Nate?”

  “No one leaves me until I’m done with them.” Spittle flies from his mouth dotting along my face. I jerk to the side to avoid the majority of the spray however, I still feel it misting my skin and I cringe. He leans even closer to my face, his teeth bared, his face a frightening mask.

  “Have you completely lost it, Nate?”

  He scowls, shoving his hands back into my hair and pulling until my head tilts back at an unnatural angle making it hard to breathe, even harder to swallow, and damn difficult to avoid his arctic gaze without closing my eyes. I can’t do that. I need to know what he’s planning. I need to be able to fight. I won’t allow him to have control. Never again. Lurching frantically, I struggle against him and feel strands of my hair rip loose and the rest still clasped tightly in his hand stretch unbearably from my scalp. I try desperately to extract myself from his hold. I kick out with my legs in one last ditch effort to get away, but it’s useless. He’s much too strong for the weakened, drug hazy shape I’m in at the moment.

  One hand wraps around my waist, anchoring me to him. “I’m going to fuck you.” His eyes now appear hollow and distant, not quite focused on me.

  “Nate, what the hell has come over you?” I push in an effort to get away from him, bucking my hips, shoving at his shoulders nevertheless, he continues and now there is a distinct gleam adding fire to his eyes.

  “I’m going to tear you up.” His lips curve up at the corners freaking me out even more. “And I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

  “Nate, please stop. You’re really scaring me.” I push back further into the mattress hoping that it will swallow me whole, taking me as far away from him as possible. “I’ve got it. I understand. You’re fighting mad. You think I made you look like a fool. You can stop now.”

  He smiles, or grimaces, or whatever you want to call it. “No man will want you after I’m done with you, Princess.”

  His words coil around me like a venomous snake, weakening me, cutting off my air. He flicks his gaze over me from head to toe. Lust or hatred, or a sick combination of both apparent in his inspection and I know he’s completely gone. Insane. Someone pushed over the edge with no way to find his way back.

  Fuck that. I’m not going to go down without some kind of a fight. So sucking in a rough breath, my lungs expand and I let out a scream. Award winning, horror movie, monster coming after me with a chainsaw kinda scream, but no one comes.

  Not one damn person.

  I listen. Listen closely, but I don’t hear a single set of feet running down the hall or anyone calling out.

  I scream again. My arms flail in fearful spasms and finally my fist connects with his body hard enough to draw a grunt from him. This bolsters the fight within me. I claw at his arms, kicking my legs until I knee him in the groin, just enough for his arms to go slack. I surprised even myself with the strength behind my blow and feel a sense of pride when I see the cringe of pain on his face. While he’s distracted, I slide from the bed a second time. A grunt of pain follows the movement when I land awkwardly on the hard floor and immediately drop to my knees, my head falls to my chest, my palms facing up on my thighs in a pose of compliance. It’s the only thing I can think of that might cause him to stop or at least give him pause in his current path.

  I want to scream again, but it comes out a hysterical sob. Tears burn, scalding my skin as they spill over. One hand flies to my mouth to muffle my sobs. “I beg you, Sir. Please leave me alone.” I press my other hand against my breasts in an attempt to ease the horror that’s clutching at my chest. “Let me go, Sir.” I keep my eyes averted but notice him drawing back and looking down at me.

  “Never.” His voice raw, his gleaming white teeth bared as his hands still cup his groin in agony. “Never,” he hisses.

  Fine tremors start in my center and work through me at the low, rough tenor of his voice. True fear. “Please, Sir.” In my head, I’m praying for a miracle.

  He jerks my head back and I flinch, tears leaking from my eyes at the pain. He adds with an impatient growl, “Never.” His stare, hard, and I recoil at the unwarranted animosity present in his scrutiny.

  “Please let me go.”

  “Say it.” His hand tightens.

  “Don’t make me do this, Nate.”

  He hurriedly lowers himself down and with his mouth close to my ear he hisses, “Say it.”

  Against my better judgment I whisper, “I can’t, Nate. It would be nothing but words.” I twist neck in order to look into the icy coldness of his eyes, knowing I’m asking for trouble, but I have to ask. I have to know whether he’s truly as big of a monster as he’s coming across. “Don’t you want more than words, Nate?”

  Coiling my hair tightly in his fist, he wrenches my head back as if I hadn’t spoken a word. Quite unexpectedly, his foot collides painfully with my already bruised ribs. I cry out, doubling over with my arms wrapped tightly around my middle.

  “Say it, bitch.”

  I push myself back up. “M-M-Master.” I nearly gag on the word, having to swallow the bile that’s rising hotly in my throat. Breathing through my nose to ease the nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach, I pray that will be enough. That all he cares about are the words and that he’ll leave it at that. That all the sick disgusting things he’s mentioned are only said in anger. Fear wavers inside me.

  “Open your eyes, Kimberly. I want to see the fear when I fuck you.” He grips the front of my gown, ripping it in two until it loosens, revealing my breasts to his lust filled gaze. He palms one breast, twisting the tender flesh painfully. It hurts. There’s no expectation of me gaining pleasure from his touch. Only pain. I press my lips together in a tight line attempting to school my features into a mask of indifference, but he knows how his words affect me because I can’t stop the cringe at his use of my name. He rarely uses it but when he does, he says it in a manner that’s worse than any other curse word imaginable.

  Squatting in front of me, he lowers his head and bites down hard on the rounded globe he holds high in his hand. I capture my lip to keep from crying out as he increases the pressure in tiny increments until I can no longer hold back the cry of pain that explodes and my eyes fly open wide.

  “Please, please, please, Nate,” I beg. “Please stop.”

  Blanching as I peer through lashes tipped with tears, trembling with uncontrollable terror, I look up to see Cooper standing in the doorway like a knight riding to the rescue of a damsel in distress. Based on the taut set of his features, he’s seething with anger. I know he’s heard more than I would have wanted him to. To top that off, my naked breasts are on full display. Even more than that, he’s seen my humiliation. The vile liberties Nate was taking of my body.

  Chapter Seven

  There is nothing that affects the nature and pleasure of man so much as

  Proper and friendly recognition from a lady

  “Get the fuck away from her.”

  I had no idea that someone could roar so ferociously without actually raising their voice. It’s actually a truly amazing scene to witness and the most beautif
ul music to my ears because it means that someone came to rescue me.

  I swallow. My eyes fall closed as I rock my head from side to side in a gesture of abject hopelessness because that’s how I feel. Hopeless. No. No. No. This can’t be happening to me.

  I crack open my eyes hoping that I was mistaken. Hoping that he wasn’t really standing there witnessing the results of my crappy decision making skills. I wasn’t. I’m not. As soon as I lift my eyes, they crash into his. The thunderous expression that erupted across his face still there and his eyes are still glittering with anger. The skin stretches taut over his grating jaw to the point that it looks as if it could rupture. I marvel at the magnitude of his barely controlled rage even though I can feel the full force of his fury rolling off of him in heated waves clear across the room.

  His glare’s focused solely on Nate and everything seems to be moving in slow motion. His hands curl into tight fists causing his knuckles to turn white in contrast with his olive complexion. A strangled noise comes from him that’s almost unrecognizable as human. A grating sound as his teeth clench and an obvious tick takes over the muscles in his jaw.

  He strides forward like a predator that has finally cornered its prey and is wasting no time pouncing. With a menacing glare in his eyes, he seizes Nate by the scruff of his neck with his large hand thrusting him face first into the mattress like a ragdoll. His knee grinds into Nate’s back, the muscles flexing and tightening in his shoulders and arms as he wrenches Nate’s arms behind him.

  “You like that?” Cooper’s voice an ominous tone and pace that fills me with a sense of unease making my throat seize. He leans in and says something to Nate that I can’t hear. I can only hear the deep rumble of his voice but not the words.

  “Get off of me you fucking pig!” Nate snarls, bucking, kicking back, but misses hitting anything vital.

  Cooper sticks his face close to Nate’s again and this time I hear everything. “Shut the fuck up.” It’s quiet but with force. He removes the handcuffs from his belt and restrains Nate to the metal rung of the bed. “I’m going to cut your fuckin’ dick off. You motherfuckin’ cocksucker,” he growls. “Only a real man should have the pleasure of that instrument between his legs.”

  I stare in awe at the power emanating from him and tingles skitter clean up my spine, tightening my scalp. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention at his mastery of the situation. He’s a sight to behold. Like a warrior from long ago and once again my savior from the king of all jackasses.

  “Fuck you!” Nate blasts.

  Cooper swoops down and hisses, “Watch your back because if I see you near her again I will fuckin’ kill you. Fuck the badge and fuck you.”

  I suck in a breath and Cooper looks over his shoulder at the sound before saying to Nate, “I’ll deal with you in a minute.”

  “Fuck you!”

  And as if Cooper brought the Calvary with him again, I hear the sound of feet running down the hall in a stampede but I don’t look. I don’t want to know who sees me this way. I want to pretend I’m still dreaming or having a freakin’ nightmare. I don’t really care. Either way, it won’t be real if it’s one or the other.

  Cooper quickly shrugs out of his jacket before kneeling in front of me, pulling my gown up to cover my exposed breasts without so much as a peek. His attention is almost clinical, almost hurting my feelings which surprises me. He places the jacket over my shoulders and before I can say anything, he slides his hands under my armpits and rises. He lifts me up in his arms as if I weigh next to nothing. Due to Nate’s vigilance, is almost a fact. He places me on the bench seat pushed up against the wall before tossing a quick look over his shoulder.

  “Give us some privacy.”

  The shuffling of feet fades down the corridor as the door slowly glides closed on its well-oiled hinges.

  A bitter coldness runs through my veins that has nothing to do with the temperature in the room. It goes much deeper than that. Wrapping my arms around my body, I rock back and forth.

  I need to trust him.

  I need to know he has no desire to harm me in any way.

  He scrapes a thumb over my brow, smoothing it. My eyes fall closed when he lowers his hand to capture one of the tears rolling unchecked down my cheek before cupping my jaw in his warm, callused palm.

  Kneeling down in front of the bench he just sat me on, head cocked to the side, he orders, his voice low, “Look at me, Angel.” Propping his index finger beneath my chin, he tips my head back a bit not quite forcing me to look into his eyes, but capturing my gaze completely. His look is intense. I lower my gaze, squeezing my eyes shut because it’s too much. I’m too embarrassed to look at him.

  I don’t move.

  I can’t move as waves of shame run through me as I think of what he’s witnessed. I work desperately to swallow back the queasiness that threatens my stomach at the horribleness of it all.

  “Angel.” His voice brooks no argument. “Eyes open, now,” he commands with the expectation that I won’t argue and I don’t. I can’t. Couldn’t to save my life, but I do hesitate.

  Heart pounding, I suck in air, then open my eyes, blinking rapidly to clear the tears that make everything I look at crazy like looking through a kaleidoscope. It takes a lot of effort on my part to look him square in the eyes. The breath rushes out of my lungs and I shudder. My jaw trembling under his palm, my teeth worrying my bottom lip.

  He watches me with his head tilted to the side, his expression fierce. I know he’s taken aback by the terror still present in my eyes. Pushing back a straggle of my fallen hair, tucking it behind my ear, his tender look mesmerizes as it seems so out of place after everything that’s just occurred. Even after everything he knows, he can still look at me with something other than disgust floors me.

  Tears well.

  Serious tears well.

  Seriously hot tears well and my throat clogs. I press my lips together, squeezing my eyes shut, and nearly curse out loud. A very unladylike curse when one of those aforementioned tears slide down my cheek leaving a telltale glistening trail in its wake. Weakness. Weakness I’m unable to hide from his dark gaze.

  Cooper leans in and surprises me by brushing his lips over the exact trail the tear made and my heart stutters and my throat tightens. It’s too crazy, too much. I don’t understand what’s going on? I can’t process the emotions that are swirling around us and the profoundness of the impact of his touch, his words, his lips. I don’t get it.

  “I assure you, Angel, I will do everything in my power to protect you.”

  His chocolate eyes drill into me for several long seconds before I finally say something. “It’s not your job.” My voice sounds small and hesitant but I’m unable to stop myself from leaning into his warm palm. I nearly groan aloud when his index finger begins moving over my skin in gentle strokes. I do my best not to flinch at the movement, but savor his touch. Struggling for air, I inhale deeply, then another. I sigh and sob out a cry at the same time. Now that I’m free from Nate an uncontrollable shaking starts deep within due to the rawness from all that’s happened in such a short period of time. I rest my forehead against Cooper’s chest and will the panic to abate. Feeling hot, wet tears fall like a waterfall from my eyes. I couldn’t have been more grateful that they are falling onto his brown regulation Sheriff’s Department shirt.

  “I wouldn’t be doing it because it’s my job.” His voice deep and compelling helps ease my anxiety. I glance up in time to see him scrub his hands roughly over his face.

  I pull back with my forearms still resting against his chest. Swiping the tears from my cheeks with unsteady fingers, I tip my head back further to look even deeper into his face unable to think of a good response.

  “I’d be doing it because of you, Kimberly,” he continues in a voice gruff before clearing his throat. I feel the rumble all the way through my body. His big strong hands start rubbing up and down my arms in soothing strokes and it’s nice.

  Leaning into him, I re
turn my forehead to his powerful chest. “I don’t get it, Cooper?” How can he say something like that? “You don’t owe me anything.” I press my face into his chest because I can’t bear to see his true reaction and not the one he was probably taught to give victims.

  His hand tightens on my jaw and he tows me up his body while at the same time leaning over and kissing the top of my head. He draws back far enough to see my slightly upturned face but doesn’t release my jaw. His rough fingers drift gently over my skin. “Quit being contentious and let me take care of this. Okay, Angel?”

  I sit there thinking with my head bowed. It’s not my intention to be Contentious. It’s my intention to be strong. My chest hurts like a vise is squeezing all the breath from my lungs and my eyes fill again with scalding tears and I sniff loudly. Why now? When I’d stepped out of a jumbled, shitty-assed, fucked up, stinking pile of shit is this man the one who drags me free and cleans me up? And he hasn’t run away screaming and hollering or cussing up a storm. He’s stayed and wiped away my tears and beat up the bad guy.

  Cooper grasps my chin firmly between his finger and thumb and lifts my face.

  My head tilts back even more straining my neck, my gaze faltering.

  “Angel?”

  “Yeah?” I mumble.

  “I’ve got this, okay?” Pressing his lips to my hair, the heat from his breath washes over me in peaceful waves.

  “But…”

  “Lord, woman, you could start an argument in an empty house and I’ve just met you.”

  My mouth curves up at that. “Fine,” I whisper, but it doesn’t have any oomph behind it, sounding kind of hollow as it comes out of my mouth.

  “You’re such a good girl, Angel,” he praises and I feel something begin to melt inside of my chest. He sweeps his hand over my hair and combs his fingers through the tangled strands making me pause. He lets the tip of his finger slide down my nose, then taps the end. It’s kind of a weirdly soothing gesture. Intimate, yet not. Almost like something my daddy would have done, yet not. “You deserve to be taken care of, not harmed in any way.”