by Riley, Alexa
Local Girl Missing reads under it. I shouldn't be shocked by this. Of course, she’s been reported missing. Whoever lost her would want her back. I don’t blame them. But I saw the mark on her. They’re not getting her.
“You saw the marks on her, too, Marta.”
“Yes, why do you think I’m so okay with keeping my lips sealed? She’s safe here.”
Then the TV flashes to who she belongs to. My gut clenches. Kurt Lockwood. Her grandfather. And my gut knows it’s him who put that mark on her. I notice his arm is in a cast and I wonder how he broke it. Lockwood is a mean motherfucker. He’s lucky he’s not behind bars for all the shit he pulled when he was the district attorney. The only thing that saved him all those years ago was his family's money.
I only know this because I remember my own father dealing with the man. The general public doesn't know what a dirty bastard he is. But when you have money yourself, you tend to end up rubbing elbows with others that do as well.
“Please, if anyone’s seen her call us immediately. We think—” He breaks off like he’s about to cry, but I see no tears. “She’s mentally unstable.”
I growl and smack the power button.
Mentally unstable, my ass.
“She doesn't remember?” Marta raises an eyebrow in question and my anger rises further.
“Don’t buy his bullshit. You want to know what a piece of shit Kurt Lockwood is, ask my mom when you call her, because God knows you probably already did and told her what’s happening.” I stare down at Marta. She doesn't deny it, giving me answer enough. I’m surprised my mom isn't blowing up my phone already.
“Orlando.” My head jerks to the door where Lucy is now standing, looking as beautiful as ever.
“That will be all, Marta,” I tell her. She nods and leaves us alone, but I know she wants to say more. It would be to no avail, though. When I have my mind set on something, there is no changing it.
“I’m sorry if I'm interrupting.” Lucy’s tucks a piece of hair behind her ear nervously.
“Never. You can come seek me out whenever you wish.” She steps into my office and looks around. “I feel rude. I’m sure I should know her, but I don’t.” I reach for her, pulling her with me down onto a sofa with me and into my lap.
“It’s strange that this is my home and I have no idea where I’m going. Heck, I mean what’s our last name?”
“Caldwell.”
“Lucy Caldwell.” I tighten my arms around her, enjoying her say her name with mine attached to it. My cock jerks under her ass, and she wiggles around a moment then lets out a small gasp when she finally realizes what she’s wiggling her beautiful ass against.
“Sorry.” I look down at her. Her cheeks pinken and she bites her lip, looking up at me with so much innocence. She does look innocent, but I swear she was sent to tempt me. To lure me out of the space I had not let anyone inside of in years.
She turns, straddling my thighs, taking me a little by surprise because of the shyness she had shown moments ago. Her hands go to my shoulders. “Will you kiss me?”
I should tell her we shouldn't, but like everything else today, I have no control. I’m on her before she can even finish the sentence. No man could turn down an invitation like that from her. Somehow, with the need pushing down on me, trying to rip me apart, I manage to kiss her softly, taking her face in both of my hands and pressing my lips against hers.
She lets out the cutest little sound that pushes me on. I slide my tongue along the seam of her lips, coaxing her to part them for me. She does. I slip my tongue into her mouth. I growl when that sweet honey taste hits my tongue. She wraps her hands around my neck, pulling me closer, her breasts pushing against my chest. Her hard nipples tell me how much her body is enjoying this.
She lets out a little moan as she starts to rock against me, her pussy pressing down on my cock as she pushes her tongue into my mouth now, mimicking what I’m doing. She’s slow and tentative, highlighting her innocence. I grab her hips, dragging her back and forth across my cock faster.
She pulls her mouth from mine and drops her head back as she keeps rocking. Our movements mimic sex, and my mind jumps to an image of her naked. Me deep inside of her. A whimper leaves me when I think I may never know that reality, but I push that away. I need to live in this moment. I can’t stand not kissing her anymore, so I go for her neck, wanting to feel her against my mouth again. Taste her.
“Orlando,” she calls out. Her movements become frantic as she searches for release. I take control of her hips for her, taking her where I know she needs to go. My own cock begs for release, too, but all my focus is on her. I want to give her this. She’s been through so much in the past twenty-four hours. I want to fill her body with pleasure.
She jerks against me, calling out my name. Her fingers dig into me. I rock her, pulling every drop of pleasure out of her orgasm as my own hits me. I grunt against her neck as cum shoots out of my cock and all over my thigh inside my pants.
Her head falls forward, her hair draping all around us. Her eyes flutter open. A sexy smile pulls at her full lips that are now swollen from the kiss I gave her. She looks well loved. “Wow, no wonder I married you,” she whispers. That knocks me right back to reality. My hands tighten on her hips. No, she really isn't my wife, and at any moment she could be taken from me. The thought is a cold hard splash of water.
“We probably shouldn't have done that,” I admit. Guilt should be hitting me harder, but as time wears on and I’m with her more, it’s actually starting to slip away as she begins to feel more like mine.
“Really? Because I kinda want to do it again.” She gives me a half smile, and I moan, knowing if she pushes I will break and give her anything she asks for. She could ask me to hand over everything I have and I would.
“I want to do it again, but I should be taking care of you.”
“Pretty sure you just did.” Her tone is playful, and I watch her try to fight a laugh as her eyes dance with mischief. She’s giving me even more of who she is and I eat it up greedily.
I stand with her in my arms. She wraps her legs tightly around me the best she can. I’m going to take care of her. “How about a bath?” I suggest. I want to stay with her, but I need a moment to find out what the fuck is going on with her grandfather and what he said. For that I need to be alone.
“That does sound wonderful.” She loosens her legs, but I tighten my grip on her ass.
“I’ll take you up,” I tell her as I head out of my office and up the stairs.
“This place is really big,” she says, looking around as I carry her.
“Yes, but I mainly stick to the east wing. My parents use the west when they are in town.”
“Do they come home often?” she asks as we enter our bedroom.
“They retired when I came home. My dad was a bit of a workaholic, and now Mom is dragging him on every vacation she can think of to make up for lost time.” I sit her down on the bathroom counter. Reluctantly, I let her go to start a bath.
“It looks like there’s room for two.” I freeze, turning around to look at her. Every muscle in my body goes tight. I want to get on my knees and thank whoever sent me this angel, but God have some fucking mercy. A man can only hold back so much before he cracks.
Chapter Six
Lucy
I can’t believe I just said that. Maybe it’s a personality quirk I don’t know I have where I blurt out whatever is in my head. I bite my lip as he slowly turns to look at me. I can tell he likes my suggestion but is fighting himself. I’ve noticed this about him. He’s timid around me, like I could spook at any moment. Maybe it’s because he thinks I’m still hurt. I do feel achy all over, but when I was in his lap all I felt was pleasure.
It was wonderful. I’d forgotten about everything else that was going on. I forgot about how my body still hurt some and got lost in him. It was perfect, and I want more of that. I pull off my socks, then I slide from the counter and my feet hit the cold marble floor. I reach
for the shirt, pull it up over my head and toss it away next. My eyes stay on Orlando because I want to see his reaction. His eyes travel down my body, lingering on my breasts for a moment, then farther down.
When his eyes reach my panties, I hook my fingers into them, slide them down my legs and toss them away.
“Fuck,” he mutters. My nipples tighten as I make my way towards him. He doesn't move. When I’m a few feet from him, he reaches out, his fingers trailing along my ribs. “Does it hurt?” he asks, and I can tell he’s trying to distract himself and remind himself that I’m hurt. I glance down and see the purple and yellow mark.
“Only a little,” I admit.
“The bath might help.” His dark eyes stay on the bruise. Then he drops to his knees in front of me, getting a better look at me. I suck in a deep breath when he kisses me there. Not once but three times, ever so gently.
“Will you be joining me?” He looks up at me with a pained look.
“I shouldn't. You should relax.” I can tell the words are forced. Something blossoms in my chest seeing this man on his knees in front of me, fighting for some kind of control. I reach up and run my fingers across his short hair. His eyes fall closed, enjoying my touch as much as I enjoy touching him. “I don’t want to rush anything. You need time.”
My hand stops. I don’t want time. He’s my husband. The one person I trust in the whole world right now. I look down at my hand. “Where is my wedding ring?” I ask him. What if I lost it in the accident or something.
“Being sized.” His eyes open as he stands and my hand drops away. He turns, shutting off the water. He gestures to the steaming bathtub. “Relax. I need to check on a few things.”
He leans down and kisses me, stopping me from trying to talk him into joining me again. I’ll let it go for now. He pulls back and helps me into the bathtub. I let out a sigh as I lean back, letting the warm water wash over me.
“God, that feels wonderful.”
I open my eyes to see him looking down at me. His eyes roam all over my body, and I lick my lips wondering what he looks like naked. “Stop looking at me like that or I’m not going to be able to control myself.” My eyes fly back to his, realizing I’ve been caught checking out his body. The man is built.
“I’m not stopping you,” I tease. He shakes his head, running his hand down his face with a growl.
“I’m going to be in my office for a little bit. Enjoy your bath, little one.” He leans down over me and kisses me. I wrap my hands around his neck, deepening the kiss. I don’t care that I’m probably getting him wet. For some reason, I know he won’t care. Even if I don’t remember him from before, there is something inside me that tells me he’s safe. It’s been there from the moment I woke up. I knew he was mine somehow.
When he pulls away, I laugh out an apology at his wet shirt. I’m surprised when he pulls his shirt off and tosses it away, revealing his broad chest. He winks and walks out of the bathroom.
“Tease,” I call out to him and hear his deep chuckle in reply.
It’s crazy how happy and light I feel with everything that’s going on. A relaxed and free feeling settles over me. I don’t know how long I soak in the bathtub. When the water finally turns cold I pull myself out, grab a towel to dry myself, then brush my wet hair out.
I go in search of something to wear. I see a few things in the closet that must be mine. There’s only a dress, a few shirts and some pants. When I go to grab one, I pause. My stomach twists. I don’t want to put the clothes on. I turn and go over to Orlando’s clothes and grab another one of his big shirts.
I drop the towel but freeze when I catch my reflection in the tall mirror on the far wall. I walk towards it and touch the bruise on my ribs. When I get close, I swear it looks like a boot mark.
I close my eyes and my mind flashes to being on the floor and someone kicking me hard. I can remember all the air leaving my lungs. Panic taking hold. My eyes fly open and I turn from the mirror. That sense of panic lingers all around me. I want to run to Orlando.
I remember flashes of an accident, but there has to be more. There’s something my husband isn't telling me.
Chapter Seven
Orlando
“Get me everything you can find on her and her grandfather. Send me stuff as you find it. I’m not waiting for all of it. When you get it, I get it.”
“I can get it all to you in about—”
“Now. I don’t care the cost. Whatever you’re doing, drop it,” I demand.
“All right,” Mic says, letting out a loud sigh, but I already hear him clicking away on his computer. “She must be something if she’s got you all worked up like this.”
“Mic,” I grit out, but it only makes him laugh. We worked together when I was a Ranger. Well, sorta. He got intel and was good at it. Now I’m going to owe him a chunk of money for this and probably a favor.
“I’ll start sending stuff over. Already got a few things while I’ve been talking to you.”
“Thanks. I owe you. This means a lot to me,” I admit.
“Hope everything I get you is good news for you. You deserve it.” With that, the line goes dead. I drop the phone on my desk and open my email to see what he’s got already. The first thing is the missing person's report. Says she and her grandfather got in a fight and she took off after stealing his car.
“Shit.” Doesn't matter. She stole that car for good reason. I could fix that easy enough. Next, he sends me her high school diploma and grades. Perfect student. Involved in all kinds of extracurricular activities. The list of crap she did is exhausting. Then nothing. No college or jobs. She pretty much dropped off the planet.
Another email comes in and I click it. Picture after picture shows her at events, always next to her grandfather, dressed up to the nines. In each photo he has a hand on her elbow, almost in a possessive hold. It makes my stomach tighten. He acts as if he owns her.
Like you don’t want to, my mind taunts me. I want to own her to care for her. He fucking hurt her, I try and reason with myself.
Next, I see an article about her parents dying in a car accident when Lucy was only three. He pretty much raised her. I read that Kurt was estranged from his son and his wife. Lucy’s parents. I’m guessing they wouldn't have been too happy their daughter had fallen into his hands. Seems Kurt’s son was on to the prick.
I make a mental note to call my own lawyer. That shit will not happen to her again. If something happens to me, she will be taken care of.
I freeze when I see what Mic says in this email.
Seems your girl is prone to accidents.
I open the file and start going through the medical records. My stomach rolls when I see hospital visit after hospital visit. Then they stopped a few years ago when she got sent upstate to some fucking recovery center. Said she had a mental break. Doubtful, but if she did I can see the reason why. I have a feeling after this he went with a private doctor who made house visits.
I’m going to kill him. I close the files, needing to get myself together, but the rage pounds down on me. I pick up the paperweight on my desk and throw it hard. It hits the wall, lodging itself in the drywall for a moment before dropping to the floor.
The sound of a gasp has me jerking my head to the door. Lucy is standing there, eyes wide, her hand over her mouth.
“Lucy?” I take a step towards her and she takes off running. “Fuck.” I follow her. I hate that she saw my rage and anger. She’s the last person in the world that needs to see that shit. Not with her life.
I follow her into our room. “Little one, please. I’m sorry. I read something that angered me. My anger wasn't at you.” I make my voice low and soft. She turns to look at me. Her bottom lip wobbles and it’s almost my undoing.
“The bruise on my side.” She lifts her—my—shirt, revealing the bruise. I was wondering if she was going to notice.
“Little one. I didn't do that to you.” I take a step towards her. She doesn't back away. She lets the shirt drop back
down and it almost goes to her knees. “I’d never hurt you.” I know she doesn't know me, but it still hurts that she might think I did that to her. I push my own feelings aside. This isn't about me.
She catches me off-guard when she throws herself at me. I catch her easily. She winces. “Careful,” I tell her as I hold her close to me.
“I knew it wasn't you. I was so sure of it, but then I can’t remember anything. I just got so scared.” Her voice wobbles when she talks and it breaks my heart. I walk over to the bed and sit down with her in my arms.
“It’s all right. I promise no one will ever hurt you again.” I try to keep the anger out of my voice the best I can.
“Do you know who did it?” she finally asks, leaning back to look at me, her eyes filled with unshed tears.
“I think…” I reluctantly admit, scared to give her too much.
“Tell me,” she pushes, and I do because I want to give her anything she asks for.
“I think it was your grandfather.”
“Was I running to you? Is that why I got in the accident? I was coming home from just seeing him?” Her eyebrows furrow together and I see her trying to piece this all together. I don’t think she was coming to me, but fate brought her here.
“Yes.” I let the half-lie roll off my tongue.
“But we can’t be sure it was him, right?” I can see sadness in her eyes as she thinks about someone willingly hurting her.
“I’m pretty sure. That’s what you saw downstairs. I was putting it together. I lost it.” Her face softens at that. She leans forward and brushes her lips across mine. I kiss her back, laying her down on the bed. I roll so that she is on top of me.
When she pulls back, she rests her head on my chest as I rub my hands up and down her back. “It’s weird wanting to remember and not wanting to. I remember some things. Someone kicking me and all I felt was fear. It consumed me, and if remembering is that feeling, I’m not sure I want it.”
