“Alright then, I’ll be back in a sec.” I pull my hand away and she lets me, settling back against the tub. “If he’s up, I’ll bring him in the bedroom for you.”
She seems to relax a bit and says, “Thank you.” But that look is still in her eyes. I don’t like it. I’m not going to bed until I figure out what the fuck’s going on with her.
Becca
“Passed the fuck out.” Dom strolls into his bathroom like nothing’s wrong and squats next to me by the tub.
I give him a forced smile as I say, “Good.” I take a deep breath.
“What’s bothering you, doll?” I look back at him like he’s lost his damn mind. Am I taking crazy pills? I was kidnapped by a group of men who wanted and tried to kill me, and now I’m being held against my will with my son by a man that’s no good for me.
My arms splash the water as they rise up and cross over my knees to pull them into my chest. The movement of the hot water on my wounds makes them sting slightly, but it’s instantly relieved by the salts in the water. It feels so fucking good. “What are the plans, exactly?” I like order; I like plans. More than that, I like knowing where my life is going so I can direct things to an appropriate path. Right now I have none of that. I have no control. And I don’t fucking like it. But I also don’t have a choice.
“De Luca’s a dead man.”
I’m quick to answer, “He wasn’t when he took me.” Hearing that name makes my body cower in the water. I hate it. I hate that I can’t control how much my body hurts thinking of what he’s done to me.
He shifts on the edge of the tub. “I’m sorry for that. I really am, babe. But I’m gonna make sure he pays.”
“Is he the one with the tattoo?” I close my eyes, remembering the vibrant green against his tanned skin.
“I thought you didn’t see anything?” He leans closer to me with his eyes narrowed. As if he suspects I lied to him. I should be scared, but I’m not. Instead I’m pissed.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that. When they took me, that’s all I saw.”
His hand shifts up to grip my chin. “That mouth of yours. I swear to God it’s going to get you into trouble.”
“Why’d he…?” I try to push the words out, but my teeth grind together and my body stiffens. I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to go back to what happened.
“His dad used to be a big deal, but he got busted and De Luca just got out of prison. He’s playing fast and loose. Targeting the big guys, and being sloppy about it. He’s only been out for a week, and there’s already a target on his back. Him and the few people he has following him around will be dead by the end of the week. No one gets away with the shit he’s pulling. Not in this business.”
I pull my knees further into my chest. I want to ask him again. I want to know everything. But I keep reminding myself that curiosity killed the cat.
“Talk to me, doll,” Dom says then gets up from his seat on the tub and walks behind me. I look over my shoulder as he gets something from the wooden shelf in the corner and then drags a bench from the stall over to the back of the tub. I turn and face the wall as his hands come down on my shoulders. Massage oil. It smells so good, like chamomile and some kind of citrus. His thumbs dig into my sore muscles. It reminds me how much my body hurts.
The punches I could take, but being hung up like that, fighting my restraints? My head hurts remembering how I smacked it over and over against the edge of the sink. But it worked. I saved myself. If I hadn’t fought... My heart stills, and my body tenses. I force my body to relax and close my eyes. There’s no reason to think like that.
“Ask me again, and I’ll tell you. You just relax and talk to me.” I don’t believe him. He’s not going to answer a damn thing.
I take a deep inhale as his hands work my shoulders and then glide up my neck. Fuck, it feels so good. My head goes limp, and I struggle to think of a question. I remember asking him earlier and not getting an answer, so I settle on asking that one again. “How many men have you killed?”
“A lot. I can’t tell you how many, doll.” My eyes pop open at his confession and my shoulders go stiff, giving away my fear. “Relax, babe. They all knew it was coming; they all had a gun aimed at me, too.”
“If I hadn’t had the money, would you have killed me?” He huffs a laugh.
“First of all, dead men can’t pay you. It does set a bad example letting people get away with not paying you, though. The first thing, the smart thing to do, is to not let a man make a bet he can’t afford.” His hands stop, and I hear him swallow before he continues. “I knew… your ex could pay. If he hadn’t shown up with the money, then we would’ve had a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” I have to ask; I need to know.
“I’d have drained his bank account.” I look up at him in absolute shock. “Yeah, doll. I have my ways.” He pushes my shoulders enough to get me facing the wall again, and his hands continue rubbing soothing circles over my body. “But that wouldn’t be enough. I’d have to make an example of him.”
“What…” I want to ask what he’d do specifically. I try to push it out, but I can’t.
“What would I have done? Do you really wanna know, babe?” I hesitate to answer. “I would’ve hurt him really bad, but it would’ve ended with him. Johnny should’ve told you that when you answered your ex’s text. His debt wasn’t on you.”
He places a small kiss on my neck and says, “Don’t worry about it, doll. The money’s already in your bank account.”
His words shock me. My body splashes the water as I turn to face him. “For real?” I ask.
“Yeah, doll. You didn’t owe me. You never did.” A small smile pulls at my lips as I settle back against the tub.
A moment passes in silence while he continues to rub my sore body.
“What if I was the one who owed you?” I want to know.
“If you owed me and you couldn’t pay?” he asks.
“What would you have done to me?” I ask to clarify and again his hands pause, but then they continue to rub along my back, moving deeper and lower. His breath tickles along my back.
“Doll, I would’ve never hurt you.” He kisses the crook of my neck and I find myself relaxing into him, but I don’t believe him.
For some reason, my lips open and the words tumble out, “I don’t believe you. You would’ve hurt me.”
He chuckles, and his hot breath on my neck sends shivers through my body, but heats my core. His arms dip into the water and wrap around my body. “What do you think I would’ve done to you, doll?” His hands run down my stomach and then lower, rubbing my hips and then massaging my upper thighs. My legs part, giving him access to my heat. My clit throbs for his touch. I’m so fucking hot for him. My chest rises as I breathe in deep and tilt my hips for him.
His hand cups my pussy as he asks, “You think I would’ve made you pay with this, babe?” His fingers play along the folds of my pussy and circle my clit.
My head falls back; my mind is consumed with the thought of him fucking me in his office. Taking me on the floor. Forcing me.
“Would you have liked that?” He lets out a deep, low and breathy laugh. “I know you fucking liked it when you paid that way for the interest. How many times do you think I’d have taken you for owing me that much?”
“Hmm.” I can’t answer. I just want him to keep touching me while I think about how he took me against the wall.
He laughs again and then moves forward to push a thick finger inside me. “You would’ve loved to pay your debt to me with your pussy.”
His finger moves in and out of me, pushing against the front wall and forcing soft moans through my lips. A tingle grows through my body, making my legs tremble. “I don’t do that though, babe. I don’t make bets with women.” He adds another finger and rubs along that hot bundle of nerves, sending a radiating fire spreading through my trembling limbs. “I don’t take pussy as payment.” I hardly hear his words as my back bows, and h
e pushes against my clit with his thumb.
“Only you; I couldn’t resist that temptation.” His words set me off, and my orgasm rips through me. His fingers continue to pump in and out of me roughly. He fucks me without mercy as my thighs close tightly around him, and my body twists. His other arm wraps around my chest, holding my body still while I thrash with my release riding through my body in waves. He draws my orgasm out, forcing me to take it. As I scream out my pleasure his lips cover mine, sealing my moans in our kiss.
My body settles as the aftershocks slow. He slips his fingers out of me, and I miss his touch immediately. He gently places me back against the tub and leaves me to lie limp in the warm water. My eyes close, and I nearly fall asleep. I’m so relaxed and exhausted.
His arms wrap around me, one under my bent knees and the other behind my back as he lifts me out of the water. He dries my body off, and I make a weak attempt to help. He pushes my hands away and continues patting my body dry, then leaves the towel on the ground to carry me to the bedroom. I try to sit in his arms, but he whispers in my ear, his voice a little more than a murmur, “I got you, doll.” With his breath on my neck and his lips placing gentle kisses on my neck, he lays me on the bed and I drift off to sleep.
Becca
My body falls forward. But it can’t. I need to go forward; I need to block the punch that’s coming, but I can’t. I’m held back. My face slams against something hard, forcing my neck to whip to the side and sending a jolt of pain through my body. It hurts. It all hurts. My body is sore and my wrists and ankles are rubbed raw. It hurts so fucking much.
Slap! A hard smack to my face from the other side shoots a throbbing pain across my face. I try to move my arms, but they’re tied. Ugh! I try to lean forward after another punch to my stomach. The air leaves my lungs, and my chest tightens with pain. I’m pinned by hands. Pinned back by restraints… the belt.
I’m pinned back by the seat belt. The tires screech. The car crashes forward. My body jolts forward. The metal twists and groans. The glass shatters. My mom screams. I can’t see her. Only my dad. My vision focuses on the tree. Heat overwhelms my shaking body. And then nothing.
No sound. Shards of glass stick out of my trembling arm. I carefully lift it and grasp the broken glass. My shaking fingers slip, and the pain makes me moan in agony. My voice. It’s the only noise. I try to move; I need to help them…
“Becca!” Who’s screaming my name? They can’t. They can’t yell for me. “Wake up!” They never yelled for me. “Babe, wake up!” My body shakes, and I struggle to move.
My eyes slowly open. “Becca?” Dom’s face is pained; his light blue eyes look so sad. I blink back the tiredness overwhelming me, and that’s when I feel the pain.
“Dom.” I wince. Fuck, my body hurts.
“Shit.” He lays me down on the bed and crawls to the nightstand. He leans over, still on the bed and reads the back of the bottle. Yes, please. My chest fucking hurts, and these damn abrasions on my ankles and wrists sting like a bitch. I want to climb back into the bath.
“Thank you,” I manage to say before opening my mouth to take the pill. He tilts the glass of water to my lips and I take it with a trembling hand. Fuck, it hurts.
“Are you alright?” he asks with a wary look. His brows are pinched together, making a deep crease in his forehead.
“I’m fine,” I answer, handing the glass back.
He takes the glass and sets it on the table. “I fucking hate that you do that,” he says, crawling back to lie next to me. He pulls my body into his gently. “You’re not fine.” He kisses my neck. “You weren’t fine.”
I have a vague memory of being in pain before waking up in his arms. “I still hurt, but it will take some time to heal.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” His voice is hard.
“I don’t understand.”
“You were begging for it to stop.” His voice is pained. I turn in his arms and watch as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “You kept saying ‘no’.” I turn back on my side with my back to his chest and stare across the room.
“It was just a dream.” It’s the only answer I have for him.
“It was a memory.”
“What do you want from me?” I ask him with contempt. His grip on me tightens.
“I just want you to talk to me.” He pulls me into his chest and kisses my neck. His tender touch makes me relax.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” What can I say? They hurt me. I’m still getting over it. There. What more can I offer?
“You can’t just hide from this.” His voice is just barely more than a murmur.
“It’s not hiding; it’s moving on. That’s what you do. You move on.”
“How can you move on without giving yourself any time to grieve?”
“You want me to be sad?” I turn in his arms and keep far enough away to look straight into his eyes. “Not everyone grieves the same way. Some people take time to really grasp the reality. Others seek out humor and positivity. Then there are people who’d rather just leave what can’t be undone alone, and move forward with what they can change.” I search his face for his reaction, but he gives me nothing.
“I can’t change what happened to me. I’m only in charge of the present and my future. I learned that long ago. And I’m happy with that.”
“How can you move on so quickly?” His voice is laced with disbelief.
“I haven’t. Grief is a journey. It never ends.” Shock sparks in his eyes, and then understanding. If there is an end, I have yet to find it.
“How bad does it hurt?”
“The medicine is already working.” It is. My body already feels less tense, and the sharp pains have turned dull.
He shakes his head gently. “Not that pain.” My chest hurts from his words. My heart clenches, and tears prick behind my eyes.
“Some days, a lot. And some days I don’t even feel it.”
He nods his head. “Tell me.”
“I don’t want to,” I say and my throat’s hoarse, making my words crack. I don’t. I’ve tried to talk about it before; I just can’t.
“Well, there’s what happened because of me. That’s adding to it.”
“Yes. It is.” I can’t lie. I’m not fucking okay. What they did to me was horrific, and I’m shocked I survived it. But I survived because I fought. And I’m damned proud of that.
“And your ex,” he says softly, and guilt eats away at me. I should be grieving more for him. I turn away from him and settle my back against his chest. I’m not responding to that. I don’t want to.
“Doll?” he asks before kissing my neck. “You really think you’ll be alright?” I consider his words.
“Some days I’m overworked and high stressed, and I can’t seem to figure anything out. But I only need to make it one day at a time. Some moments I remember, and it’s too much. But most of the time I’m alright. I can be okay. I can live through this. I can continue to live through anything, I suppose.”
He’s quiet for a long time. So long I think maybe he fell asleep and I close my eyes, waiting for sleep to take me.
“I wish I could take it all away.” His chest vibrates against my back as I register his words.
“You do more than you know.” It’s true. I feel… alive. I haven’t felt so much in months. So much desire. I mostly just run through to-do lists. Other than that, there's just Jax. Jax has kept me sane. “Jax makes it all worth it, you know?” He makes me want to smile. And I read somewhere that if you smile enough, it will make you happy. You can’t help it. It’s biology or something. “If I didn’t have Jax, I don’t know that I would’ve survived it all.”
“I hope you know how strong you are, Becca.” Strong? I wouldn’t call myself strong. Tears prick at my eyes again. I don’t ever feel strong. I feel so weak. I feel like I’m holding on to nothing, grasping for a thread that’s taunting me. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes, and I try to wipe them without him knowing. But
he sees. He rises from behind me and kisses away the tears on my cheek and chin.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry, doll.” A heavy sob wracks through my body. I don’t know why I’m crying. I don’t want to cry. My throat closes as another sob leaves me, and I bury my face in my hands. “Let it out, doll. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” I turn in his arms and cry into his chest. His strong arms wrap around me and hold me close.
“You’re alright, doll. I’ve got you.” His hands run up and down my back in soothing strokes as he kisses my hair. His loving touch is so unexpected. Everything about him is unexpected.
His hot breath on my neck makes my entire body shiver. Another kiss, this time on the tender spot just below my ear. I feel wrapped in his presence. Secure in his embrace. Something in me cracks. My armor falls. I feel myself melt into him.
I feel a need to be comforted by him. A need I only caved to once years ago. It’s haunted me and left a deep hurt in my chest that I’ve grown used to. It tightens and twists, threatening to consume me. A mix of loneliness and insecurity. It fucking hurts. And feeling his arms around me, soothing me, the familiar pain pangs in my chest. I need this. I need him.
I feel a spark ignite deep in my core, and a haze of lust comes down around me. It's the same sensation when we first met in his office. My lips part at the memory of when he took me against the wall. I turn and push my breasts against his hard chest. My hand cups the back of his head, and my lips press against his gently. He moans into my mouth as his tongue tastes mine. His fingers spear my hair before fisting it at the nape of my neck. He pulls back, and his light blue eyes look deep into mine.
My breath hitches, and my body’s overcome with a feeling of ice pricking my heated nerve endings. A chill goes through me as he searches my face for something. Please don’t reject me. I need this. I whimper as he pulls my hair back and leaves open-mouth kisses along my jaw and down my neck.
Relief washes through me, and the heat in my core rages with need. I rock my pussy against his thigh for relief. His firm hand pushes my hip down onto the mattress as he climbs on top of me. He never lets up the kisses on my neck. His hands roam my body, down my waist, my hips. He parts my legs and settles between them and pulls back to look down on me.
Those Boys Are Trouble Page 13
