All Mine

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “Don’t do that. Don’t second guess yourself. We both know you held back because you feel like you hurt him.”

  “He could have hurt you.” His voice is low, rough, a gravelly quality that is all about torment and the past, as well as his love for me. “He could have come at you to get to me.”

  I know in that moment that this incident is far too close to what happened in his past for him not to react. I protected him over myself today. I would have died for him. That’s how it has to be when two people love each other, and while on some level I know Reid knows this, on another, I’m not sure how he separates that from his past.

  I just know that right now, he needs something from me, and I haven’t given it to him. “What do you need right here in this moment?” I ask.

  “To fuck you and to hurt him before he hurts you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Carrie

  Thankfully Reid appears to decide that fucking me right now is preferable to hurting Elijah. His mouth closes down on mine and I can taste his need, I can feel the outlet he craves, the anger he still hasn’t escaped. I want to be his outlet, I need to be that for him, and he needs that from me, just as I do from him. That man cornered me. He scared me and not for me but for Reid. I was afraid he would hurt him. I still am. Suddenly, I need that escape just as much as he does as well.

  I sink into the kiss, pressing my hands under his T-shirt, hard muscles flexing beneath my touch, and the minute I shove it upward, he yanks it over his head and tosses it. It’s barely left his body when his hands cup my head as he says, “You’re mine now. That means I protect you. You know this.”

  “And I protect you. We’ve had this conversation.”

  “No. No, I protect you. Period. And I am going to protect you.”

  “What does that mean, Reid? What are you saying?”

  “It means you’re going to do what I tell you to do.”

  “That’s not how this goes,” I promise him, but before I can push back any harder, he turns me to face the opposite direction, his hands all over my body, and then my shirt is over my head, my bra following.

  “Reid, damn it,” I say, trying to turn, needing to understand exactly what protecting me means to him right now, but he catches my waist. “We need to talk. This is not us. You don’t say and I do. You don’t protect and I don’t.”

  His hands cover my breasts and he steps into me, his big, hard body cradling mine, the thick pulse of his erection at my backside. “Yes,” he rebuts, pinching my nipples, “it is. You do what I say on this, Carrie. It has to be this way.” He pinches my nipples again, sending a rush of sensation through my body.

  I cover his hands with mine, fighting the haze of pleasure. “Anything I agree to while your hands are on my breasts doesn’t count.”

  He slides one hand between my thighs. “What about when my hands are here?”

  “Definitely not there.”

  He squeezes my breast and uses that distraction to unzip my pants. The next thing I know he’s lifting me, and I end up with my hands on the back of a chair as he manages to take off my sneakers. “Reid,” I pant out over my shoulder, but anything I might have said is now lost as he yanks my pants down. In a blink, they are gone, I’m naked, and his hands are all over my naked body, stroking my waist, and then up to my breasts.

  I am officially lost. I need him right now. I don’t care about his caveman attitude. I know that comes from his fear, the same fear I’m feeling. We just found each other. We don’t want to lose each other. I just want to feel him right now. I just want to escape with him.

  He steps into me and presses his lips to my ear. “You will do what I say,” he orders, and this time his hand smacks my backside and before I can even complete my gasp, he’s turned me around and he’s kissing me, which might as well mean drugging me. This man is consuming on a normal day, but this angry and intense, he’s a beast with demands and I just give in. I stop thinking about his words and focus on his hands, his mouth, his cock that is somehow out of his pants. I reach down and stroke it.

  He turns me again, and my hands land on the chair, and then he’s pressing inside me, driving hard and fast, thrusting, pumping, grinding. He’s wild and hot and he leans over me, his body arching over mine, his hand back on my breasts as he pushes into me, and when he tugs and pinches my nipple, he sends me over the edge. I cry out and he pumps, my sex clenching around him with a hard spasm, followed by another. He lets out a low, guttural groan and drives deep, shuddering into release. He lowers his head to my shoulder, and he doesn’t linger. He pulls out and then he’s lifting me, carrying me toward the bathroom, clearly in caveman mode.

  Once he’s set me on the bathroom sink, he doesn’t waste a lot of time getting to the point. He hands me a towel and plants his hands on either side of me. “I’m not in a good place.”

  I press my hands to his face. “You’re right here with me. Make that a good place.”

  “Do what I say. That’s a start to a good place.”

  “I’m not leaving, Reid. That’s not a start at all.”

  He stares at me for several beats and then pushes off the counter to leave. He just walks away. His words: I want to hurt him before he hurts you, has my adrenaline spiking and I scoot off the sink, hurrying after him. I find him in the living room, pulling on his T-shirt. “Talk to me, Reid.”

  “I’ll be back,” he says, heading for the door.

  I’m naked and I don’t care. Once again I race after him, finding him headed toward the door and somehow I manage to plant myself in front of his big body before he gets there. “Where are you going?” I demand, pressing my hands to his chest.

  “You do know you’re naked, right?”

  “I’m quite clear on the fact that I’m naked, and in all kind of ways with you, Reid Maxwell. So, I repeat: Where are you going?”

  “For a walk.”

  “You don’t even have a coat and you’re too angry. You’ll end up at Elijah’s home.”

  “I don’t know where Elijah lives, Carrie, and I don’t like that you assume that I do.”

  “I know very well that you know his address,” I counter. “He’s an enemy and you don’t leave yourself blind with an enemy. I know you know how to hurt someone. I know that you can be cold and hard and I know you want to hurt him for me, but don’t. Don’t do this for me.”

  “I’m taking a walk. The end.” He literally picks me up, sets me aside and in several long strides, grabs his jacket and opens the door. “Come lock up.” And then he’s gone. He left me alone after the eruption with Elijah, which feels off.

  I hurry forward, and I want to go after him, but I can’t. I’m naked. I lock the door. Right as Kesha appears at my feet, I run for the living area where my clothes are but hunt first for my phone. Once I find it, I dial Royce. “He left. He said he’s taking a walk, but I think he’s going after Elijah.”

  “I’ll handle it,” Royce assures me. “Don’t you even think about going after him. Wait there.” He disconnects.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Reid

  Leaving Carrie isn’t easy, not now or ever, but right now, I have ten shades of anger going on, and a hell of a lot of baggage in my head, the kind that makes me cut my enemy and win. With her in danger, and she is, I need to hold onto those feelings. Carrie won’t let me. She changes me and it’s all good, except right now with Elijah. I don’t give a fuck about his mental health. I care about Carrie and I need to act now, but in a smart, calculated, and cold way.

  I exit our apartment and wait until I hear her turn the locks before I start walking. Once I’m a good distance from the door, out of any chance of being heard, I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Royce. “Make sure Carrie doesn’t leave the apartment alone.”

  “And where are you going?”

  “I’m not going to kill Elijah,” I say, heading down the building stairs. “Not literally. That’s not my style and you know it. Where is he now? I don’t want any surprises.�
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  “At home with his wife.”

  Which means Carrie should be safe with Walker watching her and him. “Call me if that changes.”

  “I can shadow you,” he offers, “wherever you’re going.”

  “I’d tell you if I wanted a damn shadow, Royce. Just protect my fiancée and find out what set off Elijah.” I disconnect and dial Gabe.

  “Are you home?” I ask when he answers.

  “Yes.”

  “Alone?”

  “I can be.”

  “Then be. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” I hang up and exit the stairwell, my mind chasing a mental image of Carrie facing off with Elijah and how easily he could have hurt her. No, he could have fucking killed her. I’m not going to sit back and let that happen.

  I exit the building and welcome the cold gust of wind that greets me. Cold is good. Cold is without emotion and sympathy. Cold is simply brutal and unforgiving and that’s exactly how I feel right now. The places my mind is going are not good and I know the one person who will go there with me is my brother. I all but jog to his building, interrupted briefly when Carrie tries calling me, and as much as I need to hear her voice, I need to speak with my brother first. Once I’m at his door, ringing the bell, it opens and a gorgeous blonde with her hair in disarray greets me.

  “At least you’re not another woman,” she snaps, all but running me over to get out of the door, obviously pissed off that Gabe booted her. “Though it wouldn’t surprise me,” she mumbles.

  It’s moments like these that I’m reminded of how reliable my brother is to me. I don’t call us close, and yet he knows me as no one but Carrie knows me. I enter his apartment, lock the door, and cross the living area to the open kitchen on the other side, industrial beams and pipes running over our heads. Gabe is brewing coffee. “I assumed this was a level-headed conversation versus a whiskey and relaxation kind of conversation.”

  The doorbell rings. I arch a brow. “Was she one of two tonight?”

  “She’s just a bitch,” he says. “You saved me when you called. No one but you can get up here.”

  “Dad?”

  “Hell no. I took him off the list.” He rounds the island and heads for the door. “I put Carrie on the list.”

  “Carrie,” I murmur, certain now that she followed me, certain too that she’s going to try to be a moral compass I really don’t want right now.

  Gabe opens the door and steps back to reveal Royce Walker’s brother, Blake, the king of all hackers, if I’m told right. “How the hell did you get up here?” Gabe asks him.

  “How the fuck do you think?” Blake asks, sauntering in my direction, his long hair tied at his nape, a MacBook in one of his hands. “I hacked my name onto the list and if you don’t believe we can get where we need to be, why are you working with us?” He stops beside me and sets his Mac on the counter. “Whatever you’re planning to do right now, you’ll do wrong without me.”

  I arch a brow. “Is that right?”

  “You fucked his wife years ago. He didn’t just randomly decide to fuck with you now.”

  “Wow. What?” Gabe asks joining us. “You fucked someone’s wife?”

  “Elijah,” I say.

  “Oh, fuck. That really was years ago. What the hell is going on?”

  “He tried to fuck with me and get me kicked off the board of the West takeover, but now he came after Carrie. He followed her and Cat to a wedding venue, and once Carrie was alone, he got in her face. He even grabbed her.”

  “Holy fuck,” Gabe says, scrubbing his jaw. “What don’t I know?”

  That question takes me back to Carrie asking the same thing; the two people who are the closest to me, which tells me that I overreacted to Carrie asking it. “There’s nothing I haven’t told you,” I say. “Which is the problem. What set him off?”

  “He had board-level involvement with the West deal, right?”

  “He’s a stockholder,” I say, “but he’s not even on the board. He just tried to get me kicked off.”

  “You’re running a company that impacts his bottom line,” Gabe says. “That could have put you back on his radar. You control it and you fucked his wife, thus you controlled his bedroom.”

  Blake sits down and opens his Mac. “It feels too simple.” He punches a few keys. “Pour me a drink and let me see what there is to see.” He eyes the cup on the counter. “Make it a whiskey. It feels like a whiskey kind of hack.” He glances at me. “I know since our team protected them that you don’t want to hear this, but I have to ask: What are the odds he might target Cat? Have you given her a heads up?”

  “Fuck,” I breathe out and look at Gabe. “No. They do not need this right now.”

  “We need to talk to Reese,” he says.

  “I need to own this,” I reply. “It’s on me.” I scrub my jaw and look between them. “I need to call him.” I grab my phone from my pocket and dial Reese.

  “Reid,” he answers.

  “Are you with Cat?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I need to see you. I’m at Gabe’s. Can you come here?”

  He’s a silent a beat, clearly weighing his words. “Yes. Any details on the phone?”

  “Cat and Carrie were followed today by a man who hates me. He confronted Carrie after Cat left, but I’m concerned he’ll go after anyone that matters to me.”

  He’s silent but I swear I can almost hear his mental cursing. “Understood. See you in a few.” He hangs up and the doorbell rings.

  “That will be Carrie,” Gabe says, eyeing me.

  Suddenly I want to kiss my fiancée and tell her I was an asshole back at the apartment. I hurry forward and open the door to find the last person I expect to see, considering Gabe’s comments ten minutes ago: My father. And he’s not alone. Carrie is standing next to him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Reid

  The past that he can never escape…

  “I love you.”

  Those words stop me in my tracks, which in this case is on a sidewalk on my way back to my apartment after leaving a dorm party early so I could study. I pull Kelly in front of me. “What?”

  “I love you. I just thought you should know.”

  “We need to talk, Kelly,” I say, because yeah, she’s a pretty redhead with a heart of gold, but she’s not my woman. She’s not the woman for me She’s a person I fuck and that line is it for me. “I told you what this is. It’s college fucking.”

  “I know,” she says, pushing to her toes to kiss me. “I need a soda to take back to your apartment.” She darts away and into the store to my right.

  I scrub my face and grimace. Fuck. This has to end tonight. I’m not in love with her. I’ll never be in love with her and I hate what that means. I’m going to hurt her. I’m going to cut her and deep.

  I follow her into the store and she’s already walking toward me. “I got you one too,” she says, holding up her hands with a soda in each.

  I stare at her and damn, she’s beautiful and sweet and I should be in love with her, but I’m just not wired that way. I’m not in that place in my life or maybe just with her.

  The door opens behind me and Kelly’s eyes go wide, terror on her face. I whirl around and find a guy in a ski mask, holding a sawed-off shotgun he’s waving between me and the kid behind the counter. And he is a kid, a few years younger than me. I take a step toward the asshole and he does just what I want. He points the gun at me and me alone. “Hands up or I’ll shoot!” he shouts.

  “Give me the gun,” I order.

  “Back off, dude,” the masked man orders. “Or I will shoot you.”

  I stare into his eyes, seeing the panic in them and I believe him. He’s going to shoot, and if it’s not me, it’s the kid behind the counter. “I’m not going to let you hurt anyone else,” I warn. “So either leave or shoot me.”

  “Hi,” Kelly says, jumping to my side. “Hi. Please don’t hurt anyone.” She darts forward, right in front of me. My heart lurches and I g
rab her arm to shove her behind me, stepping toward the gunman.

  I release her and he shouts, “Back off now! Get me the money. Get it now, now, now!” He looks toward the guy at the register and the gun swings back my direction and everything goes into slow motion.

  Kelly darts in front of me again and a moment later, she’s on the ground and I’m staring down at her blood pooling around her body. The gunman rushes for the door and I kneel next to Kelly, my heart in my throat. “Kelly,” I breathe out. “Kelly. Damn it.”

  Her mouth is open and she’s trying to speak, but can’t. “Don’t try to talk,” I say, applying pressure to the wound in her chest. “Get an ambulance! I need an ambulance.”

  Kelly starts to convulse and I know even before it happens what that means. She jerks and then goes still, her eyes no longer blinking. Sirens sound and the kid behind the counter appears and kneels beside me. “What can I do?”

  “Hold pressure on the wound,” I say, and the minute he takes over, I try mouth to mouth, damn glad my mother made me learn it. I breathe into her mouth and keep trying but I know she’s gone. I know she’s not coming back but I have to try. I have to try and I do. Over and over and over again until someone is grabbing me and pulling me off of her.

  “No,” I shout. “No, I have to save her.”

  The next thing I remember, I’m sitting on the back of an EMS vehicle with a blanket around me and I’m staring at the blood drenching my shirt. Kelly is dead. I killed her. I repeat this in my mind over and over and somehow I’m dialing my father. “Something happened,” I say when he answers.

  “What happened?”

  “The store I was in was robbed. My girlfriend threw herself in front of me to save me from a bullet. She’s dead.”

  “Go home. Stay there until I get there and tell no one.”

  “What? Why? I don’t understand.”

  “You’re going to look like the weak asshole who let a woman take a bullet for him. That’s unacceptable. You’re changing schools. You’re leaving tonight. I’ll call you back.” He hangs up.