Relief spreads through my veins and I wipe the blood away from her brow. Caring if a bitch lives or dies isn’t something I am used to feeling. Any other time I would dispose of a person and move on.
But I can’t with her. Never with her. Something inside me clicked when I saw her. I knew I wanted her.
I can’t explain it but I feel drawn to her. She reminds me of Kristen. She was my stepsister. The only person who ever really loved me or thought I was worth loving. When I was about seven my dad married her mom. She was eleven at the time. Had long dark hair she kept in braids. I thought she was an angel amidst the Hell I was being raised in. Her mother was nothing but a junkie slut. It wasn't long after she married my dad that she took off one night to get high and never came back. My father never reported her missing. Said it was just gonna be the three of us from there on out.
Kristen took care of me. She was like the mother I never had. My father saw her that way too and often took her to the bed he once shared with her mother.
Kristen would cry. She would plead and beg. I remember the first time he raped her. I had woken up to the sound of her screams and the sound of his belt. I knew the sound of that belt, I had been on the receiving end of his punishments many times.
I remember peering through the keyhole of the lock and seeing her bent over the mattress with her white nightgown pulled up over her bottom. My father stood behind her armed with his belt. I watched, feeling helpless to do anything to stop him.
He beat her and then he fucked her. When he passed out she came out of the room with blood staining her thighs and the remnants of her nightgown in rags in her hands.
I helped her to the shower and took care of her as she had me.
I shake away the memories. The shit I wish I could forget and focus on Shelly.
She is knocked out cold but only appears to have hit her head. She probably has a concussion.
Scooping Shelly’s limp body into my arms, I carry her to the freshly made up bed, careful not to hit her head on anything along the way like the wall.
If she doesn’t wake up I can put her in the hole with that dumb fucker I suppose. Though he isn’t worthy of sharing a grave with her and she deserves better than that. However, it’s all I can give her if need be.
I check her breathing once more before pulling a blanket over her cold and naked form. Her wet hair soaks the pillow, so I go back into the bathroom and get a towel to lay under her head.
Once I’ve laid the towel under her head I go back in the kitchen to put the frozen burritos on a plate and cook them in the microwave.
The timer goes off and I grab the plate and stalk back toward the bedroom to check on Shelly.
Sinking down onto the bed next to her, I pick one of the burritos up off the plate and wave it under her nose hoping the smell will rouse her.
Nothing happens though.
I bite into the tortilla and the meat in the center is cold.
Fucking nasty shit.
I’ve been spoiled by MaryAnn’s cooking at the clubhouse for far too long.
Bet she’s serving up something good tonight too.
My stomach growls and I eat around the edges.
Shelly seems to be sleeping peacefully.
I take the paper plate to the trash and pull out my cell phone to look up about concussions.
I read through the tidbits and return to my sleeping beauty.
Her pulse is strong and when I check her eyes they seem normal.
I wonder if I parted her thighs and got a taste of her sweet pussy if that would wake her. The temptation to try is almost more than I can bare. I told her I wouldn’t fuck her until she asked and I won’t. I always keep my word. Well I did until her. She should be dead, but she isn’t because I spared her. I saved her even if in her eyes I stole her life. The world would be dimmer without her in it.
Exhaustion takes its toll on me, so I lay next to her and allow sleep to claim me.
———
When I come to the next morning she is still asleep but has moved to snuggle into my side. I take it as a good sign. I leave her to rest and go about getting the old couch in the living room set outside and prepare for the furniture store to deliver the rest of the new furnishings I had the dead grunt purchase. I don’t want these bastards in the trailer and waking up Shelly, so I order them to unload in the driveway.
After getting everything inside and set up where I want it, I go back to check on her. She’s still asleep and genuine concern for her rises within me.
Snapping my fingers, I attempt to wake her. Nothing happens.
I try clapping my hands together and playing alarms tones on my cell phone.
Nada.
Running my hand over my head I’m getting pissed off.
I gently shake her shoulder. “Time to wake up, sugar tits.”
Silence.
Fuck.
I rear my hand back, open palmed and smack her.
Her head lolls to the side.
Goddamnit.
Ice water should do the trick. Seen my dad do it to my stepmom a few times back when I was a boy. She’d get so fucked up and not know what world she was in. Thought she was dead quite a few times. The old man would bring her back though. First, he would act all concerned. He’d be gentle and kiss her mouth then when she would smile he’d punch her in the teeth.
In the kitchen I get a cup and fill it with ice.
I could put water in it and toss it on her but that would soak the new bed and wouldn’t be as fun as what I have in mind.
Pulling the covers back, my nostrils flare seeing her sexy body bare and ready for the taking.
Fishing an ice cube from the cup I suck it between my lips to melt it a little.
Keeping the single cube between my fingers I rub it over her lips.
They twitch in response, but she doesn’t wake.
I continue to move it along her neck, carving a path to the valley of her breasts. Those perfect tits are taunting me. Daring me to suck those pink buds into my mouth and have a taste of her soft skin. I keep myself in check though, only using the ice to tease her now goosebump covered flesh.
This is pure torture. Having her naked and unable to protest my claiming what I know will be mine.
Her nipples grow taught with my ministrations. Hardened into peaks.
A soft murmur leaves her lips and when I look up at her she’s fucking smiling.
My dick goes hard at the sight of her sweet lips curving upward as our eyes meet.
Chapter Eleven
—Shelly—
A cold wet sensation caresses my skin, waking me from what feels like the longest nap on the planet.
My nipples grow hard as the sensation continues to wreak havoc on my body. I can feel a smile stretching across my face as I open my eyes to see a brutally sexy beast of a man staring at me as he tortures me with an ice cube.
His lips part and he grunts. “You’re awake.”
I look around the room not recognizing my surroundings. Fear spikes in my veins replacing the pleasure. I don’t know who this guy touching me is. I don’t know where I am.
…I don’t know who I am…
I shrink back away from him, pulling my knees toward me along with the blanket as I move to sit up against the headboard. My throat feels dry and I blink my eyes a few times hoping for clarity to prevail.
“You okay?”
“I…I don’t know,” I answer honestly as tears threaten to fall. “I…I don’t.” My voice cracks as the first tear escapes. “Where am I?” He gives me a cross look. “Who are you?” More importantly, who am I? I wonder silently.
A dull ache pulses at my temple. Cautiously, I bring my hand up and touch the sore spot.
“Hey…easy now. You hit your head pretty fucking hard. Wasn’t sure if you were gonna wake up,” his husky and rough voice wraps around me, familiar in tone.
I wince when I poke the sorest spot.
“So, you thought teasing my nipples with ic
e was a good idea?”
He shrugs, rolling his shoulders and popping his neck. The thick chords of his muscles pop out from the motion.
Licking my bottom lip, I get the courage to ask what is bothering me the most. “What’s my name?”
“Shelly,” he states coolly, and I study his eyes trying to remember.
“Shelly,” I repeat, and he grins.
“What do you remember?”
“I don’t know.” I try to push down the panic inside me. The fear that is trying to takeover and make me freak out, because in all honesty, I have no damn clue who I am or where I am. I don’t know who this guy is. But I mean, he was rubbing ice on my nipples and I am naked, so we must know each other.
“Are we...?”
“Together?”
“Yeah.” My teeth graze my bottom lip as I look at him, waiting for an answer. He’s rugged and tattooed. Sexy.
“You seriously don’t know who I am?’
I shake my head, hugging my arms around my chest feeling so vulnerable and exposed. “No.”
“Name’s Charlie.”
“Okay, Charlie. How long have we…ya know?”
“I gotta be straight with you. I just don’t know if you are ready to hear it yet. Why don’t we make sure that you’re okay and we can worry about everything else later? No need in overwhelming you.”
I nod. He’s probably right. I do need to take things slow and see what comes back to me. I look around the room hoping for something to spark a memory, but nothing registers. “Do I have any clothes?”
An annoyed expression flashes over his face and he makes a weird noise in the back of his throat. “Not really. I can give you something of mine until I can go get you some stuff.”
“So, I don’t live here? Can you take me home?”
“No and no. Long story. But uh, I saved you from something bad and brought you here to protect you.” When he speaks of something bad I can feel it in my bones, but I can’t recall what he is referring to. “We kind of like each other but haven’t really gotten that far yet.” He winks, and I can feel heat rising on my cheeks. “Once I know you are feeling okay, I’ll make a trip to town to get you whatever you need.”
“Okay.” I offer him a faint smile and my belly rumbles.
He moves from the bed, goes over to a bag sitting by the door and takes out a wrinkled t-shirt.
He sniffs it then tosses it in my direction. “Should do ya for now.”
“Thanks…I think.”
“You feel okay to get up and come to the kitchen, so I can feed you.”
“I think so.” I tug the shirt down over my head and push my arms through the sleeves, being swallowed by his tee. An outdoorsy scent seizes me, and I hear a motorcycle in my head. Maybe he rides, or I have ridden on it with him. I don’t know. I move to stand but immediately sink back down on the mattress feeling dizzy.
“Why don’t I just bring you something, unless you want me to carry you to the couch, so you can watch TV.”
“That would be nice. Thanks.”
He makes that funny sound again, clearing his throat and leans down so that I can cradle my arms around his neck.
I can’t tell when he makes that noise if it is because I annoy or amuse him.
Then again, I don’t know anything about this guy. Or maybe I do but I can’t remember.
He plops me down on what seems to be a brand-new couch. Everything is new in appearance. “Have you lived here long?”
“I guess you could say just moving in.” He powers the TV on and hands me the remote telling me to turn it on whatever I want.
Only problem is I don’t know what I like to watch.
Charlie goes into the kitchen and opens the fridge. “Do you like fried bologna?”
“Um…maybe…” I have no idea what foods I like. I am trying not to feel overwhelmed. Charlie is helping, he isn’t pushy or getting upset with me. He’s kind and good looking. Though his hair and beard could use a cleanup.
“Best to warn you now I’m no Betty Crocker. Takeout is usually my specialty but being so far out, there isn’t anything convenient nearby.”
“I can cook.”
“Yeah?”
“At least I think I can.” I grin.
“Next meal is all you then. There’s a pen and some paper if you want to make a list of stuff you might need.” A feeling like I have heard him say that before— Deja vu washes over me but quickly dissipates.
I stare at the paper and panic looms in the back of my mind. I know certain things but not everything. It’s a scary feeling.
Chapter Twelve
—Boogeyman—
I see the fear in Shelly’s eyes and I don’t like seeing it there. Makes me think of the terrified look Kristen would have in her eyes when my old man would take her to his room. She promised me that one day she would kill him. That one day we would be free. Only I got my freedom and Kristen earned her wings.
I don’t know what she’s doing to me but part of me likes it. I didn’t exactly lie to her, but I didn’t tell the complete truth. I’m the bad guy she should be running from. I’m the monster who kidnapped her and brought her here. It was either take her or kill her. I couldn’t let her go and have the club go down because for the first time in my life I have a soft spot for a woman. Well... since Kristen. I’m not a deep feeling kind of man. Since I was a boy I was taught love makes you weak. I was conditioned to be an unfeeling bastard. The club is the only place to ever accept me for the monster that I am. I have my brother’s backs and they have mine. It’s what we do.
I have never gone against an order. I have never lied to my club. But that is exactly what I am doing having her here. Keeping her.
I could take her home and drop her off and never look back but what happens if she one day remembers who I am and what I did? I know what I should do with her, but I can’t bring myself to give her up.
When I first brought her here I was being a dick. My father always said the only thing a woman was good for was spreading her legs.
It’s what I know, and I wanted to punish her for making me want her. For making me fucking care.
I want to hate her.
I want to fuck her.
I want to fuck her until I hate her some more.
I’m not right in the head.
Never have been.
I grew up to be what I hated the most. My old man. Wouldn't he be proud if he could see that the monster in me is him.
She looks so lost and yet so determined to be okay with whatever this situation is. Being around her and her not exactly hating me is nice. I don’t like it. And yet, I’ve never had anything that was just mine. At the club I have always had to share. Though there was never anything that I wanted to keep for myself. It has never been a problem until now.
Until Shelly.
I find myself wanting to help her and it kills me. Even if I don’t want her to remember who I really am. Maybe for however long it takes I can pretend to be just Charlie, the man I may have been had everything not been stripped of me when I was a boy.
The pen shakes in her hand as she struggles to make a list.
Where did her fire go?
Where’s her sass?
I’ll bring it back.
I have to.
I slip the bologna onto a piece of bread, slather some mustard on another piece and top it off. I drop the paper plate on the coffee table. “Tell you what. Fuck the list. I’ll just get a bunch of shit and it can be like a game to see what you like and don’t like.”
A faint smile crosses her features and she nods, placing the pen and paper to the side of her.
She eagerly takes a bite of the sandwich.
“Need a drink?”
“Please.”
I smile and try not to glare at her as I stomp back to the kitchen. Need a drink? Who the fuck am I? This is bullshit and yet I fetch her a drink like a good boy, like her fucking dog. When she accepts the can of pop her fingers graze mine and I feel a Go
ddamn tingle. I need to get out of here for a while. Go clear my head before she turns me into a complete pussy like that cocksucker, Uno.
That poor motherfucker needs to get rid of his nasty bitch. Bet her pussy is just as pathetic as he is.
No wonder he is so Goddamn miserable all the time.
Who needs a ball busting bitch harping their ass all the time?
Won’t ever catch me taking shit from a bitch.
“You gonna be okay if I head out for a bit?” Fuck. That just sounded like I was asking her for permission.
Yup. Definitely time to go for a ride.
My eyes flicker to the screen and the fucking news is on and sharing her fucking picture, talking about the reward for her safe return. So much for TV.
Before she can notice I block her view. Wasn’t fucking thinking about that shit when I omitted the truth.
Damn.
Fuck.
Shit.
Think.
I can’t take her with me. Someone might recognize her.
I’ve really stepped in it now.
Hades is gonna put me in the ground for this fuck up.
“I think I’m going to go lay back down.” She yawns, and I snatch the remote to shut the TV off. Gonna have to unhook the cable until I figure out this mess I created.
“Well. I’ll be back.” I grab my cut and lock the door behind me.
Not like she will try to go anywhere considering she doesn’t even remember her own name and only has my t-shirt to wear.
Damn does it look sexy as fuck on her too.
When I get outside I realize I still have that damn box truck full of garbage I need to dispose of and I am gonna need my fuckin cage anyway.
Chapter Thirteen
—Shelly—
When Charlie leaves I try to lay down and take a nap, but I can’t sleep. I need to know what happened to me. I need to know who in the hell I am.
Do I have a family?
Are they looking for me?
I don’t see a phone anywhere and even if there was one, who would I call? The police? They would plaster my face around until someone recognized me. But he said he saved me from bad people. What if they are still out to harm me. My best course of action is to stay here where it is safe until I can remember who I am.
Boogeyman's Dream (Devils Rejects MC Book 2) Page 4
