Losing Lola (Mercy's Angels Book 5)

by Kirsty Dallas

  “Okay, well, I’m going to head to bed. I’m exhausted. It’s okay if you want to leave tonight. I was fine while you were away. You don’t have to worry. I’ll see you around some time.”

  With an awkward wave, I made my escape, walking too fast to be casual and slamming my door shut far too hard to be subtle. Grabbing my bucket of fears from the closet, I plonked myself in the middle of the bed and took a few deep breaths. Glancing down, my latest fear sat right before my eyes, mocking me.

  Grow a set and tell Drew how you feel about him.

  I snorted as my throat burned with unshed tears. Just as I was about to reach in and bury that fear deep, a quiet tap on my door halted my hand.

  “Lola, can I come in?”

  My jaw dropped open, and I glanced around the small room. Drew had never come into my room, not once.

  “Make sure you’re decent. I’m coming in, anyway.”

  Not giving me a chance to protest, the door slowly opened, and Drew’s massive frame filled the entrance. Leaning against the doorframe, he arched a brow my way. “Wanna tell me what that was all about?”

  CHAPTER 19

  DREW

  The tension and fear coming from Lola was so thick I thought I might choke on it. She was terrible at hiding her emotions. She assumed I was bailing and leaving her to fend for herself. I couldn’t entirely blame her, though. I’d been trying hard to keep my true intentions and feelings under wraps, not wanting to overwhelm her. The way she sat crossed legged in the middle of her bed, her body visibly shaking with emotion, told me it was time to lay it all out for her. If she couldn’t handle the truth, and my need for her was rejected, then I’d back off, but I sure as fuck wasn’t going to leave her to fend for herself. And she sure as fuck wasn’t going to pick up where she left off. Where she left off wasn’t really living, it was just existing, moving through the days with detached apathy. I wanted to show her how to live again. I wanted her to feel free and safe. Lola was mine to protect; I was her sword that would one day exact her revenge.

  “You make it a habit jumping to conclusions?” Her brow furrowed in confusion. “We need to talk, and I need to make a few things clear.”

  I walked into her space, a space I hadn’t once stepped into since she’d made it hers. This was hers to feel safe in, somewhere she could retreat to when she needed to hide. Not anymore though, it was time for Lola to stop hiding. She'd come a long way over the last month; her sessions with David were obviously helping. She still had one heck of a mountain to climb, but I was going to be there to climb every step with her.

  Sitting down on the bed, I gently took hold of the small bucket that sat in front of her. It was her bucket of fears, and it looked as full now as it did the day she made it. On the top sat a scrap of paper, and in Lola’s familiar messy handwriting were the words “Grow a set and tell Drew how you feel about him.” Reading it, I froze. When I was able to pull my gaze away and settle it on Lola, she looked like a spooked deer. Her eyes were big and round with surprise, her mouth was slightly open, and her cheeks filled with red blotches. Placing the bucket on the ground, I pulled that one fear out and stared at it.

  “Ummm, I . . .” Lola tried to speak but clearly lost her courage when I glanced her way again.

  “How about I go first,” I suggested.

  Lola nodded.

  “The first time I saw you was at Bouquets. Your hair was jet black, parted down the middle, and in braids that made you look about ten-years-old. I was ready to check myself in to therapy being attracted to someone who looked so young, but your body was anything but childish. You only ever wore black, but under the disguise, I saw you, and you were all woman in so many different shades of color.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” she whispered, her mouth agape with shock.

  “I’d only just started with Montgomery’s. I’ve done some pretty bad shit in my life, and I didn’t think I deserved someone as innocent and beautiful as you.” She opened her mouth to protest, but I didn’t give her a chance. “And this,” I said, tracing a finger down the scar on my face, “if it doesn’t scare people away, it repulses them. Since I got this, you’re the only woman to look at me and not focus on it . . . Also, I’ve never really dated before, never even been in a serious relationship.”

  “You’re a virgin?” she blurted out, completely bypassing the comment about my scar.

  I couldn’t help but smile at the idea of me being a virgin. “No, Mouse, I’m not a virgin, but the women I’ve been with have been nothing more than someone to help scratch an itch. I never found a woman who grabbed me the way you do.”

  “Oh,” she whispered.

  “I haven’t said anything since Thailand because I didn’t want to overwhelm you. You’ve had things you needed to work out on your own, things I couldn’t help you with. I figured the last thing you needed was a man telling you about all the indecent fantasies he’s been having about you.”

  “Oh.” The simple word was softly spoke, her lips in a perfect ‘O’.

  “Your turn.” I reached out and handed her the scrap of paper, and she took it, trying to look anywhere but at me.

  “I’m glad you feel that way, because I was really scared you wouldn’t care for me the way I care for you,” she confessed in a small voice, picking at the comforter. “I feel safe with you.” She shrugged. “I’ve always felt safe with you, even when you sat in the corner of Annie’s café and watched me while I worked, I knew you were staring, but it didn’t bother me. It made me feel protected.”

  My heart was racing and I had to clench my fists together to stop them from shaking. Never, in all my thirty-one years, had a woman reduced me to such a nervous wreck.

  “You’re kind and gentle, even if you did work for a bad man,” she smiled, “and you're clean. You even put the toilet seat down. How does a man who grew up in a house full of men remember to put the seat down?”

  It was my turn to smile. I couldn’t help it. She was a woman who tamed the beast in me and made me want to be better, softer, gentler. “My momma hated us boys leaving the seat up. She drilled it into my dad, and the thing with rules and my dad, they stuck. I guess they stuck with me, too.”

  Lola nodded and licked her lips nervously. The small, insignificant action brought my attention to her mouth, and I wondered what it might be like to kiss her. I hadn’t done much kissing in my time, preferring the act of fucking hard and fast and bypassing any kind of foreplay. But with Lola, I wanted it all. I wanted to hold her, kiss her, and eventually make love to her, slow and steady, all fucking night long. I shifted as my dick bobbed in agreement.

  Lola’s smile dropped a little. “The thing is, Drew, I’m not like other women,” Lola whispered. “I’m damaged.” Her words were like pouring a bucket of ice water over my heated libido. “I’m not sure what I can give you. We need to go slow. If that’s a problem—”

  “It’s not a problem,” I quickly said, a little too gruffly. “I’m not an animal, Lola. I would never do anything you’re not ready for. Just being here, sitting with you, talking to you, is enough. As far as being damaged, that’s a crock of shit. You’ve been through a traumatic experience, Lola. You're not damaged or broken or spoiled, you were hurt, and you’re now healing.”

  Lola’s sigh was long and loud. “The thing is, I might be ready for something, I’m just not sure what.”

  She seemed unable or unwilling to look me in the eye and I dipped my head until I caught her gaze.

  “I know you trust me, Lola. If you want to try something, we try it, if it doesn’t work out we stop and try again another day. No means no, Mouse, and I won’t be angry, not ever. I might have a severe case of blue balls, but that never killed anyone . . . that I know of.”

  She smiled, and some of the tension in the room seemed to fade away with it.

  “Out there,” I pointed out of her room. “When I asked you about whether you were happy here, it was because I want to take you home, to my home.”

 
; Her mouth opened and closed, and opened again. She seemed to be struggling with what to say.

  “You don’t have to make a decision tonight, and if you want to stay here, if you feel safer here, then there’s nothing to think about, we’ll stay here. I want to work on the security out there, anyway, so it will be a few days before the house is ready.”

  She nodded with a long exhale, her shoulders falling as she did.

  “You tired?” The dark rings under her eyes weren’t as deep and bruised looking, but they were still there. She nodded. “You still having nightmares?” I wondered out loud.

  “Sometimes,” she confessed.

  “How would you feel about me sleeping here, beside you?” Her eyes practically bugged out of her head. “I’ll stay dressed. I’ll even sleep on top of the comforter if you want me to. I just thought it might help keep the nightmares away.”

  She chewed on her lip as she considered my offer.

  “Let’s try it,” she said with renewed vigor. Jumping from the bed she pulled down the blankets and climbed in, fully clothed. She touched the lamp beside her bed and laid her head down on her pillow. “You getting in?”

  “I’m just going to change into some sweatpants. They’ll be more comfortable then my work gear.”

  “Oh, of course. I’ll brush my teeth while you get ready.”

  I picked up her bucket of fears and the little piece of paper about me.

  “Another one down,” I said with a grin, scrunching up the paper.

  She smiled at me from across the bed. It was one of those smiles she used to wear before her attack. It was honest, open, and beautiful, and it caused my already stubborn dick to twitch with anticipation. I turned away before she noticed the erection beginning to strain my zipper. Such a sharp, primitive reaction to something as simple as a smile was beyond my comprehension, and I didn’t want to freak her out with my uncontrolled arousal.

  Stepping into my bedroom, I peeled off my clothes and groaned as my throbbing cock bobbed free from my pants. Sleeping beside Lola and not touching her was going to be a special kind of torture. I would do it, though. I would put myself through that and more just to know she was comfortable and safe. Pulling on a clean pair of sweatpants, I concentrated on everything except Lola. I needed to gain back control of my cock. Thinking of all the different guns I trained with and owned helped distract me. Glock 43 semi-automatic, AMT hardballer .45 caliber semi-automatic, Beretta M9, a Colt LE901 .308 Winchester gas operated locking bolt semi-automatic, Ruger SR-556 .223 Remington rotating bolt, Browning Auto-5 16 caliber semi-automatic five-round magazine. I continued to catalogue the weapons, and the monotonous task helped to gain back control of my raging hard-on. Stepping into the bathroom, I brushed my teeth. With a smile, I noticed Lola’s toothbrush was no longer in its usual holder, instead sitting discarded beside the sink. It was such a small thing, but for Lola, it was monumental. It meant her obsessive need to clean and pair things was beginning to fade. I left her toothbrush sitting there and turned out the lights in the apartment before entering Lola’s room. She had already turned off her light, though the lamp beside her gently lit the room.

  She was tucked tightly under the blankets, and when I would have laid down on top of the comforter, Lola was quick to pull the blanket aside.

  “I trust you, Drew,” she whispered.

  Humbled by that trust, I stretched out on the bed and pulled the blankets up to my waist. In an awkward roll, Lola moved towards me and lifted my arm. I allowed her to lead and watched as she tucked herself into my side then finally placed a small hand in the middle of my chest. Tentatively, I placed my larger hand over hers. She was stiff for the first few minutes, but ever so gradually her body began to relax, and as hers did, mine did, too. It didn’t take long before her breathing evened out and a gentle snore escaped her lips. I smiled, again.

  Fuck, I hadn’t smiled this much since I was a young man, untainted by the bleakness of war and battle. Stroking her delicate fingers, I closed my eyes and allowed myself fall into the sweetest oblivion.

  CHAPTER 20

  LOLA

  The bashful looks I kept casting Drew felt awfully immature, and yet, I couldn’t stop them. Every time he looked away, I couldn’t help but admire his strong physique. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and his short, groomed beard was a little longer and untamed, making him appear wild and beautiful at the same time. He looked wild and beautiful all at the same time. All we’d done last night was sleep together, eyes closed, bodies covered, genuine sleep. The way I felt myself blush all the way to my toes each time he caught me staring would have you think we’d spent the night thumping thighs. I’d never slept beside a man, though, and most especially had never ended up in a tangle of limbs upon waking. Apparently, I became somewhat of a leech during sleep and attached myself to the nearest, warm blooded object, that being Drew. He didn’t seem to mind, even staying glued to his spot on the bed long after he woke because he didn’t want to disturb me. I sighed at the memory of waking up plastered to Drew King. It had been pure bliss. There had been no fear, simply comfort accompanied with a strong sense of wanting. Wanting for what, I wasn’t sure, and I was too afraid to ask him for anything but his tender hug.

  I filled up the basket I was carrying with more fruit, while Drew selected fresh meat for dinner. It was such a domesticated thing we had done together several times over the last couple of months, and yet now, everything felt different, and different in a good way. The only way I could explain it was ‘more.’ More significant, more exciting, more refreshing . . . just more.

  Like a compass fixed on due north, my gaze was pulled to Drew again, and this time he caught me fair and square, a somewhat amused expression on his otherwise grim face. Of course, I blushed, but I also arched one brow and gave him my best ‘so what’ look. The corner of his mouth twitched with the need to smile before turning his attention back to the meat.

  Who would have thought that sleeping with a man, and actually engaging in the act of sleeping, would have such a powerful effect on those involved? We were like a pair of love-sick teenagers. If this is what love-sick felt like, I didn’t want the cure. It was invigorating.

  Stepping down a long aisle, I found the ice-cream at the very end and began searching for cookies and cream. Smiling as my eyes settled on a small container, I placed the plastic basket by my side and reached to pull open the freezer door. My fingers, however, missed the handle just as a big arm reached around my neck and began to pull me away. For a moment, confusion swept over me; however, it was immediately replaced by adrenaline and fear. Opening my mouth to scream, my effort was cut off as a big meaty hand pressed hard against my lips. Nothing more than a muted call for help escaped. I kicked hard and thrashed as much as possible in the incredibly tight grip as I was dragged unceremoniously down a dark corridor at the back of the shop.

  “Hey, what’s going on there?” called out an unfamiliar voice from a doorway to my left. The man who had hold of me, and by the thick, hairy arms surrounding me, it was definitely a man, pressed his hand harder against my open mouth and the flesh of his palm slipped between my lips. I did the only thing I could think of, and bit, hard.

  He grunted, his fingers immediately slipping away, and I screamed for all that it was worth. I screamed long and loud, a sound of sheer terror and desperation. The end of the corridor was suddenly filled with a familiar figure that brought a sob to my lips. Drew stood there, looking like the devil himself, with his gun raised and his intense gaze on the man holding me hostage. Time stopped. I was no longer being dragged away; instead, I was being used as a shield, my feet barely touching the floor as a strong arm under my chin practically blocked my airway.

  “You won’t get far. My people are on their way,” Drew said in a far too calm voice.

  The figure behind me held me so tight I knew it would leave bruises, and I gasped for air. Drew continued to step forward until he was so close my limbs begged to reach out and touch him. He remained compl
etely focused on the threat behind me. Suddenly, I was thrust forward, and my body tensed as I prepared to hit the ground. I never did, though. Drew King’s unyielding arms caught me.

  “Larz, he’s on foot, back of Saul’s Mini-Mart,” Drew spoke into his cellphone as he held me tight. Slipping the phone into his pocket, Drew lowered his lips to my forehead. “Did he hurt you?” he murmured before gently kissing my temple.

  Shaking, I tried to take stock of my body. I wasn’t really hurting anywhere, but I was numb with fear and couldn’t be sure.

  “I don’t know,” I confessed on a shaky breath.

  Drew pulled away and began to check me over.

  “I’ve called the police,” said the same unfamiliar voice I had heard moments before.

  “Thank you, Saul,” Drew murmured. “I don’t see any blood. I think you’re okay, Mouse.”

  “Drew?” Larz’s roughhewn voice came from the door behind us.

  “You see him?” Drew asked.

  “Nope, but Dillon and Bomber are both on foot checking the perimeter for any sign of him. Let’s get moving.”

  “Come on, Mouse, let’s get out of here.”

  “Our g-groceries,” I stammered.

  “I’ll have someone come back and pick up what we need later.”

  Drew turned me around and encouraged me forward, his hand on my lower back. It wasn’t enough. I didn’t feel safe without his sure arms wrapped around me, and yet I didn’t want to appear weak in front of the two men. So, on less than steady legs, I moved in a state of shock in the direction Drew herded me. Larz stood waiting at the end of the corridor, the sunlight spilling through the open door at his side.

  “We clear?” asked Drew.

  “Clear,” Larz answered with a nod.

  Larz reached for my hand, and with only some reluctance, I took it. He pulled me out into the open alleyway behind the grocery store, and Drew stepped out alongside me. His gun was still in his hand, his hard eyes observing every rooftop and shadow.