Bend, Don't Break

by Skye Callahan

  “I hate seeing you hurt. Somewhere along the line, I should have prevented it from happening.”

  “Rule one, no sex. Rule two, stop apologizing for things we can’t change. At least I’m alive to have nightmares.”

  I lifted her chin, her shiny eyes found mine and locked there until I sealed my mouth over hers. She relaxed into my touch, parting her lips so my tongue could mingle with hers.

  Her taste filled my senses, waking every synapse and fiber in my body as the blood rushed in one direction. I pulled her harder against me, yearning for every inch of contact I could get.

  She broke the kiss but didn’t pull her body away.

  “Don’t do this just for me. It’ll pass and I’ll be—”

  I caught the rest of her argument before it became audible. My mouth moved along her jaw and neck. Even though her mouth was free, she seemed to have lost interest in the protest.

  “If you want me to stop,” I whispered, “then say it. Otherwise, let me have my way. Tonight I can only battle one of us for control.”

  Thankfully, she didn’t ask what I meant, she went completely quiet, her body arching into mine as my hands and lips explored her exposed skin. Careful of her injured arm, I lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around my hips, her left hand moving through the short hair at the back of my head.

  I returned her to the bed, pulling off her pajama bottoms and shirt as I laid her out, the perfect sight. I watched her breasts rise and fall with every pant. She reached up to me, tugging at the hem of my shirt until I leaned over, close enough for her to remove it adding to the growing pile on the floor.

  “Sugar,” I whispered, freeing myself from the fabric of my pajama bottoms. Trailing my hands up her stomach, until I crouched above her. The soft skin of her inner thigh squeezed against my hips as I lowered to take her nipple in my mouth.

  It had been so long.

  Not long enough. I hadn’t even lasted a week.

  She lifted her hips, pressing against the head of my cock, and I bit in response to the sudden shock of sensations.

  My hand tightened in the sheets below us, but Rose moaned and spurred me on. Her chest jutting up towards me, her fingers in my hair pulling me back.

  I moved to her other nipple, trying to compose myself as she wriggled beneath me, but it was too much after weeks of nothing or angry solo jobs.

  Her hand slid between us, grabbing me and pressing my cock toward her entrance. A bold move, even though her eyes met mine with a question. I pressed forward, taking in nothing but the sound of her gasps as I filled her, and the sensation of her squeezing around my cock.

  I rocked inside of her, watching her chest move in quick breaths, and feeling her muscles work as she thrust up to meet my movements.

  But my temporary respite from the war of emotions was short lived, when anger pulled free again. The wound on her arm. The look on her face, when I’d tried to console her in the bathroom.

  My movements became frantic and hurried. Why the hell did I have to be losing it now?

  “James.” Her voice tethered me to the present. A weak and tenuous connection, but I held onto it with everything I had. I captured her mouth, letting myself fall into the sensations of her as the world drifted away.

  One night of peace. We both needed it.

  I slowed my pace, but she urged me on with a whimper and a tug with her leg.

  Not so fast.

  I returned to my deliberate assault of kisses. A trail across her chest, a slow thrust inside her.

  Over at her shoulder, with a little nip to her neck. Up her jawline, my lips dusted against hers, like static building between our bodies. I punctuated each set of kisses and nibbles with another slow thrust, until her body was taut, yearning for release, with her fingers digging into my back.

  Her eyes squeezed closed, and her mouth formed a small oval. I wanted to kiss every inch of her, but didn’t have the will to pull out and explore the rest of her body. I didn’t want to break away from whatever momentarily set me free.

  My cock throbbed inside of her, the tingling build of an orgasm taunted me. I increased my pace until I was slamming inside of her, pushed onward by every moan of ecstasy.

  Fingers moved down my spine, a delicate dance of pleasure laced with the sharp pain of nails finding my skin. I fisted my hand in her hair, pulling her up to meet my kiss, just as her muscles exploded around me and sent me flying after her.

  I relaxed against her chest, the drum of her heart a ballad as I closed my eyes, and found my way back. My back burned, and I couldn’t have cared less.

  Maybe everything I had been running from was its own façade. The worries exacerbated by uncertainty and darkness. I rolled, taking her with me. Keeping her against my chest, as she moved freely with me—her tension washed away by pleasure.

  The thrum of my own heart coaxed me back to sleep. That and the warm body pressed against mine.

  Rose woke me, trailing her fingers down my chest, across my abs, further down until she reached my hardening cock and pulled. Then, she pressed her palm against the head and slid her fingers up the backside. She lifted her head as she moved to straddle me.

  But it wasn’t Rose who stared back from under the long brown hair.

  Raini.

  I flipped her off of me and rolled off the bed, keeping my eyes on her while I moved away.

  “They’ll kill us,” she whispered, reaching for me.

  It had to be a dream.

  I spun looking for an exit, but Rose stood in the doorway, taking my hands and wrapping them around her waist, pulling me down to reach her mouth.

  “We have to go,” I said.

  “Don’t you want to tie me up first?” She traced her fingers over my lips then down my throat. “Or maybe a butt plug, clamps.... A whip? Aren’t those your favorites?”

  I shoved her backward, waking with a jerk before she fell away.

  It was nearly six in the morning, and Rose was still curled at my side, sound asleep as her hair trailed out in a satiny starburst across her pillow. I slid out from under her arm and pulled on my boxers and pants.

  The dreams weren’t real, but the shadows of emotion they imprinted were very real, and I needed to get some air. I made it as far as the living room before dropping to the couch and covering my face with my hands.

  I needed a reset button. Or at least a map. Some way out of the endless loop. I sat back, staring up at the ceiling. Every time I tried to put myself back together, the pieces wouldn’t fit right anymore. Everything was the wrong size and shape.

  There were some moments when it felt like there were two opposing beings inside me, both seeking validation and hungry for power over my life. I had thought the endless hours of sitting on the couch at Dr. Combs office were coming to a final resolution, but the more I questioned who really had control over my life, the more I doubted ever getting rid of her.

  “James?”

  I opened my eyes. The room was much brighter than I remembered. “Did I wake you?”

  I thought for an instant that I’d woken her up when I climbed out of bed, but I wasn’t even sure how long I’d been downstairs.

  “It’s almost seven.” She yawned and covered her mouth. “Didn’t really expect to wake up alone.”

  “Sorry.”

  She sat down beside me, her leg tucked up under her so she was facing me. “I don’t want things to be uncomfortable.”

  “I know, Sugar.” I squeezed her leg. “I enjoyed it. Don’t worry.”

  “Yeah, but old ways won out—using sex to try and make everything better.”

  “Is that how you think of it?”

  “You don’t?” She scoffed and laid her head against the back of the couch. Even though she was looking right at me, her eyes were distant. “It was our distraction.”

  “Is a distraction what you wanted last night?”

  She hesitated, her foot wriggling on the couch like a fish seeking water.

  “Because a distraction i
sn’t what I intended.” I grabbed her thigh, hoisting her up so she straddled my lap and hooked her good arm around my neck. “I intended to show you how I feel. What you mean to me.”

  “But it’s still too soon. I didn’t mean for it to go there last night, I was just freaked about the dream and afraid you didn’t want me. And then, I—” her mouth twisted as she debated over her words. “I noticed that you zoned out. Figured you remembered something. You just looked like you went somewhere else for a moment.”

  I nodded. “And you pulled me back.” This time. “But sometimes the memories....”

  “Are so real you don’t know how to find your way back or what direction to even begin looking in. I know,” she whispered. “I want you—but I’m afraid that I just want you to take the pain away.”

  “I’d love to do that.” But I wanted more, too. Something real, something that I could keep.

  And that’s why I had to pull myself together first—reconcile the wants, needs, dreams, and fears until I could at least separate fact from façade. I needed to know I wouldn’t hurt her.

  Chapter 14

  Who Needs a Knight?

  By Monday morning, Captain Richards had ordered me back to work, and Trent filled me in on what I had missed—which wasn’t much. The feds had basically cut us off, opting instead to concentrate on the rest of the organizations they had yet to take down and leaving us with a slew of girls to take care of on limited resources.

  Richards was faced with a balancing act—trying to balance the high priority cases that required significant man hours with all of the new matters that came in daily. Detectives Windsor and Hudson were still primary on the newest missing girl, but we agreed to work the whole thing in tandem to keep fresh eyes on the developments as much as possible.

  Even though I predicted it would be a dead end, Trent and I followed the A.A. lead, since they had an afternoon session on Mondays.

  We waited outside until the meeting dismissed—giving them all their privacy and relative anonymity during the meeting. As they passed us by, one by one they either snubbed our request entirely or claimed they didn’t know her without giving the image more than a subtle glance.

  “Told you,” I muttered after fifteen people had climbed into their cars and left. Two cars remained in the lot, in addition to ours.

  “Still a couple of chances,” Trent said. “Get rid of the glare and turn on the charm and we might get somewhere.”

  I leaned against the wall, staring off toward the woods as the door opened again. Trent cleared his throat and elbowed me. And I prepared my spiel again—until I recognized the woman standing in front of me. Apparently my ex, Claudia, had stuck with A.A.

  She smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Looking for someone?”

  My mouth opened to answer, but the shock prevented any sound from coming out.

  Trent held up the picture and she plucked it from his hand, eyeing us both just as long as she stared at the picture.

  “You guys know the rules.”

  “She’s been missing for more than three days now,” I said, hoping we could at least get some information—however simple. I hoped that however long Elizabeth had spent with the group, she might have picked up one or two who would put her safety above the rules.

  Another man exited the building, and Trent left us to chat with him.

  “That’s a shame, but as I said, you know the rules.” Claudia glanced over her shoulder and blew out a breath. The man gave her a warning glance, then headed down the path to his car, peeking back once more before climbing inside.

  “I also know that sometimes bending the rules can save lives. What can you tell me about Elizabeth?”

  “Didn’t talk much. She came to one of the weekend retreats and a couple sessions through the week—more because it was ordered than anything.”

  “She got mandatory A.A. after only one offense?”

  Claudia tightened her lips and shrugged.

  Only one offense on record, I guessed.

  “She hasn’t been around in about two weeks,” Claudia said. “I really can’t give you much of anything else. Although, she pointed and made a tapping motion with her hand. “Last time she left here she was picked up. It was odd because I’d always seen her drive herself. He drove a black BMW, fancy thing, but I never was the car person.”

  Trent held up his phone—the drawing from Raini’s session with the sketch artist on the screen.

  “That looks like him. It was Friday before last, I believe. Just don’t tell anyone in the group I told you any of this—especially her when you find her.”

  “You’re confident,” I said. So far, we hadn’t been doing a brilliant job of finding the cracks in the case.

  “You’re determined.” She tucked her hands in her pocket, keeping her eyes on me as Trent backed away to take a phone call. “You looked damned surprised to see me,” she whispered.

  “Well, you were pretty stubborn yourself, and you didn’t seem interested in help.”

  “I wasn’t,” she shrugged. “But it has been a few years. You seeing anyone?”

  “Yes.” I didn’t know her intentions, but I wasn’t beating around the bush.

  She smiled—her face remained relaxed, not forced at all. “Good.”

  Then, she held up her left hand, a gold band with diamond insets adorned her finger. “Me, too.”

  Married. It seemed she might have cleaned up for a good cause. “That’s a little more than seeing someone, I believe. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks, and good luck finding Elizabeth. I hope everything works out.”

  We spent the next few hours back at the station, sifting through leads with Winsor and Hudson, before filing reports and making a few calls of our own.

  “We’re going out tonight,” Trent said, pulling on his jacket.

  I tossed my pen across the desk. “No offense, but I’ve spent all day with you and I’d rather see Rose.”

  “Or,” he leaned over the desk, “we could go follow a lead.”

  I grunted. Of course. We needed something new to follow, so for that, I was thankful, but it felt like we were trying to get traction on a solid block of ice. And I realized, the overwhelming desire to run from everything that had to do with the Retreat had me wanting to run from my own job. How long until I wanted to run from Rose, too? “What kind of lead?”

  He handed me a slip of paper with the name of a local bar on the east side of town—near the café where Raini and her missing friend had been approached by Kirk. I knew the place and it wasn’t an area either of us would usually hang out at.

  Or anywhere near.

  “Seems our local escort service has been recruiting there,” he explained.

  “As soon as Kirk sees us, he’ll spook—not that I wouldn’t mind hauling his ass in, but if that’s the plan, we might want to have backup.”

  “I asked, the men who have been showing up there don’t match Kirk’s description. One of the servers called earlier to report a man who tried to pick up one of their waitresses—she thought it was hinky and wanted to know if there was anything she could do. He gave her a card that matches the one we found on the girl we picked up for prostitution. She said he comes in every Monday night at eight, sometimes meeting with other men. And she called him the ‘desperate to get a date type’, but she doesn’t have a name.”

  “And what’s the plan if he does come in? I doubt he’ll be real enthused to chat with us. I don’t think we’re necessarily his type.”

  “We’ll play it by ear,” Trent shrugged and finished clearing his desk.

  I went home, threw on an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt and sent off a message to Rose, telling her I’d be out late.

  When I met Trent near his car in the busy parking lot, he was still in a dress shirt—with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows so the tattoos along his forearms peeked out and a pair of carpenter khakis. It was his usual version of casual wear, but at least without long sleeves, no one usually pegged eith
er of us for cops.

  “Now a good time to bring up my unease toward loud, crowded buildings filled with drunks these days?” I shoved my hands in my pockets and stared toward the door. I could hear the music pulsing from the establishment, but louder than that was my pulse pounding in my ears.

  Trent slapped my arm. “I’ll be watching your back this time.”

  It was now or never, so I led the way across the parking lot and shoved through the massive front door. The bar was full, a sea of people, and the biting smell of alcohol wafted through the thick air. Music pumped through the speakers, it wasn’t obnoxiously loud, but the bass was turned up so high, I could feel each beat from my feet to my head.

  I scanned the room, looking for anyone who stood out—or more importantly, people who didn’t stand out. “Is your girl on tonight?”

  “Yeah, she said she’d give a nod, so we may as well belly up to the bar and get cozy.”

  “Perfect.” I glanced back toward the booths near the entrance. It really was perfect. I elbowed Trent, and he spun around to look.

  Rose was tucked into one of the corner benches, sitting across from another olive-skinned brunette I didn’t recognize and a man with a similar, but slightly darker skin-tone than the girl. I took a step, but Trent caught my arm.

  I nearly snapped his head off before biting my tongue.

  “Charlene,” he said in my ear.

  I scratched the back of my head, attempting to shake off the bad feeling I had. Charlene was the girl Rose had been with when she was taken, but that didn’t explain their male friend.

  “He’s her brother,” Trent said. “They came to the station together after Rose was abducted.”

  Still didn’t explain what he was doing in a booth with Rose—or why she hadn’t mentioned anything to me about being here. Get it together, I reminded myself, but I still headed toward them. My feet were connected to the rash portion of my brain rather than the logical side.

  The brunette’s eyes widened when she saw me, but without a word I plopped down on the bench next to Rose. She startled for a second and visibly forced herself to calm.