Cassie

by deMora, MariaLisa

  “Hoss.” Cassie whispered his name and shifted slightly, pulling back. He frowned, reading avoidance into the movement. He realized he wasn’t wrong when she began, “You should…” Taking a deep breath, she whispered, voice soft as a sigh, “That’s to say, Isaiah…Mr. Rogers.” Every devolving word took her further from him and Hoss could nearly feel the wrench as that distance increased when her gaze dropped from his eyes to his chin, and stuck there, the first time in forever that she’d avoided his eyes. Dammit, no.

  “Hoss,” he reminded her and felt her flinch at the burning anger in his voice. Shit, I didn’t mean to scare her worse. “I’m Hoss, honey. And I’m right here, with you. Don’t take yourself away from me. Let me have you, honey. I’m staying with you. It’s just me, baby. Just Hoss.” He tilted his head and strained, searching her face to find the woman who had dinner with him, kissed him in her kitchen, who stayed in his arms all the way up the stairs, but Cassie even looked different when she was afraid. “Nothin’ to be afraid of here, honey. I’d never do anything you didn’t want. Never hurt you. Hand to my heart, I promise. I’m just…Hoss, honey. I’m just Hoss. That’s who I am, and I’m here with you, my gorgeous, brave girl.”

  Her lips parted, and she breathed out his name, that single syllable wavering with her effort. “Hoss.”

  Mesmerized, he watched as her hand lifted and fluttered aimlessly at the end of a quaking arm. She’s looking for something, he thought, and pressed his cheek into her palm. He held her gaze, letting her use that touch to anchor herself if that’s what she needed. Give you anything.

  “Hoss,” she agreed again, gaze locked with his as her thumb glided across his lips. Not an attempt to silence him, but a resumption of the exploration.

  “Cassie. Honey, you’re safe with me. Always. Come back to me.” Parting his lips, he sucked the tip of her thumb into his mouth and bit gently, watching her pink tongue slide across her bottom lip.

  Encouraged, he dipped his chin the barest amount, touching his mouth to hers. When he shifted position, her eyes closed, and he could again feel her retreating. No, dammit. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, lips moving under his. “You should leave. This isn’t something…no one wants this. No one wants to see. Not this. You should…just go.” She pulled in a ragged breath. “I can’t. You should go. Trust me.”

  “Cassie, nothing to be sorry for, baby.” Since he had lost her eyes, Hoss leaned in further, rubbing his cheek against hers, shifting his legs and hips so they were more side by side. “Give me five minutes, and if you really want me to, I’ll leave. Five minutes, but right now I’m here. You told me to stay, and I want to. So much. But if you need me to go, I will.” Moving up in the bed, he nabbed a pillow and shoved it underneath his head, then reached out, slid an arm around her stiff shoulders and slowly urged her to roll into him. “Five minutes, babe. Five minutes and I’ll go. But only if you still want me to, because I swear, Cassie, I’d rather stay.” He needed her to understand he wouldn’t be so easily dissuaded. “Gonna stay where I am. Right here. I’m right here with you.” There was a small blanket folded to one side, and he grabbed that to drape over them both, then pulled it across her legs more fully.

  Voice trembling, she said, “No, please. I want…” She took a hard, hitching breath, then a softer tone, her voice thick with emotion as she struggled to say the word he most wanted to hear. “Stay.”

  “All right, honey. I’m here.” One hand around her back, he held her firmly, keeping her pulled close to his side as she shuddered and shook, her body still in the grip of overwhelming fear. Every movement tore his heart open a little wider. This woman is stronger than she knows. Hoss reached up with his other hand, threaded his fingers through her hair, and gently removed the tie that was failing to hold it in more than a half-assed ponytail. Once he had access to the full length, he stroked her hair, slow and long, fingers working in up by her scalp, massaging for a moment, then pulling through, untangling as he went.

  He brushed through the length repeatedly, keeping her pressed against him with a firm grip on her hip. Again and again, he stroked and petted until she sagged against him, exhaustion finally winning the battle, dragging her down into sleep. When she finally went under, her whole body relaxed in a way that told him exactly how tightly wound she was most of the time. I can’t imagine carrying that every day, he thought, his hand moving automatically through her now tangle-free, silken hair. Bravest fucking woman I ever met.

  Tell me

  Cassie

  She woke slowly, gradually, a process uncharacteristic of her normal sleep pattern which was typically a lingering drop off followed by waking so fast sometimes she would be seated on the side of the bed before her movement even registered.

  Eyes still closed, cocooned in a pool of heat, the first thing that hit her was a scent. Hoss. Pervasive but not overpowering, it was intensely masculine and pleasant. She found it comforting, the suggestion of musk that always stayed with him, twined through the traces of leather and the road. Then she became aware that there was a heavy, male strength wrapped around her. Bare arms banded her belly and chest, hands had bunched up her shirt and were anchoring her in place. Her own hands had risen to cup the forearm and wrist of one arm, hard muscles underneath her palms reassuring. I’m not afraid. Quiet sounds came from behind her. The unhurried, measured breaths of air attested to the relaxed yet awake nature of the person sharing her bed. Shouldn’t I be afraid?

  “Cassie.” Her murmured name was experienced as a rumbling wave of sound, traveling both through her back into her bones and across the air to her ears. The voice was rough with sleep, gravelly and deep—but still, she recognized it, giving validation to her memories. Her stomach gave a little lurch as her body reacted to the knowledge. Hoss is here. Her eyes opened, and she glanced down. The first thing she saw were arms, strong and sinewy, draped firmly over her body, holding her firmly against his hot form. He stayed. She let her eyelids sink closed again and in the silent darkness, she drew in an experimental breath. Deep and satisfying, it blew out as easily as it drew in, so she took another one. No panic. No fear. No unease at waking in this position. She felt relaxed and secure. He stayed with me all night. Again.

  “Baby, you up?” This rough whisper came from beside her head, and she abandoned any pretense of sleep to make an unintelligible noise. He laughed softly, the gusts of his humor ghosting across her ear. “You good, Cassie?” She spent a moment to attempt an internal argument that she might still be sleeping, and if so, behaviors weren’t under her control. Instead of answering, she tipped her head and lifted her chin in invitation. It was less than a second before he accepted, lips touching hers in a soft kiss that pressed and pressed, then the tip of his tongue trailed across her lips, before his mouth was pressing again, softer than before. The act was undemanding, which left her feeling safe and cossetted. He treated it as routine, as if this were how they began every morning.

  Hoss finished with an even softer peck before he nuzzled into her neck. It sent a bolt of desire through her when his lips and tongue trailed a heated path up her skin, and she arched to give him better access. She again got the ghosting of his breath across her skin when he growled, “Fucking hell, gorgeous. You’re killing me.” His hips shifted, and she felt the rough fabric of his jeans on her bare legs, then one hard thigh pushed between hers and lifted, resting against her core. “Cassie, stop it.”

  Until he told her to stop, she wasn’t even aware she had been pushing her ass against him, but once she realized behind the fabric of his jeans was a hard, hot cock, she couldn’t have stopped even if she wanted to. Which she didn’t. “Hoss.” Any other words escaped her, lost as she was in the wave of desire for him. She tipped her ass to find an angle and pushed until his hands clamped on her tighter, arms squeezing. I want this. With desperation she didn’t recognize, she wanted him to make love to her. “Hoss.” She set her teeth to work and nibbled along his arm, followed by a brush of her palm across the muscles.


  His hands moved, sliding down and around her body as he changed position with her, rolling them, then he was over her and kissing her hard, his mouth covering hers and she couldn’t breathe. It was across her face and she couldn’t breathe. His weight was on her, holding her down, holding her down…holding her…down.

  ***

  Hoss

  Hoss knew the instant her movements went from nervous desire to frantic escape. Her hand shoved at his chest while the other had fisted and battered at his shoulder. Startled, he jerked away and found a blank terror mask covering her features. Jesus God. Cassie wasn’t in control right now, this was pure terror. A woman working on raw instinct and fighting to get away, to push him away. Desperate to escape. Fuck.

  He had laid awake and studied her most of the night without coming to understand what had happened. Couldn’t figure out what she’d lived through to give her such pain. Since he didn’t know that, there wasn’t any way he could know what he had done to trigger it now, but sure as shit, just like last night, what Cassie was going through was on him. I did this. Not knowing what caused the attack, he felt at a loss as to what would better it, so he rapidly ran back over their conversations in his mind. The times they had talked, when he had seen her nearly fall into a panic, but pull herself out.

  My voice brought her back last night. Desperate to soothe her, Hoss started talking. Not trying to hold or restrain her, just staying close, he let her hammer at him with her fists and feet, praying she could hear him. “Bravest fucking woman I know,” he said. “I don’t know much about you, but I know you’re brave, Cassie.” Again and again, he spoke of his admiration for her courage, the beauty she had inside her heart, and how he hoped she could trust him.

  Gradually her twisting, jerking movements slowed, the unformed sounds of terror clamped behind tightly closed lips trailed off, but were immediately followed by heart-wrenching sobs. Pain and grief and fear ran through those sounds, each of them burned and bit until he knew the memory would be etched on his soul forever.

  “Cassie, honey.” Voice shaking, he called out, frantic to break through to her. “Come back to me. Come on, my gorgeous girl, give me those eyes.”

  ***

  Cassie

  The pain was what brought her back, surfacing her from the sucking well of panic and fear. Muscles too long tensed were rebelling, and strips of flesh writhed powerfully underneath her skin to wrench a gasp from her throat even as she tried to hold it in.

  “Jesus, honey.” She heard the hissed words and then there were hands on her thigh. Pressure dug in to rub firmly at her muscles. Cassie jerked and recoiled in surprise, then found herself brought back to the middle of the mattress by a firm arm around her waist. “Let me help you, sweetheart.”

  “Hoss,” she whispered his name and wished it weren’t true, but knew it was. He had stayed. He saw. He saw me. This was like her worst nightmare brought to life.

  “Yeah, Cassie.” His voice came from above her, but he wasn’t close, wasn’t leaned into her. He spoke from an unthreatening distance away. His hard hands continued to work her muscles, finally easing the painful cramps as stubborn knots gave up the fight. “I’m here, gorgeous.” She remembered hearing those words, remembered his voice cutting through her panic a couple of times, enough for her to tell him to leave, at least. Not that he listened. Her annoyance was followed by a wave of realization that she was glad he hadn’t.

  “You stayed.” Sick to her stomach because those were not the words she’d intended to say, but as she spoke, his hand stilled, her skin chilling for a moment before he continued.

  “Yeah, babe. I stayed.” Soft and sweet, his voice wrapped around her like a layer of cotton, reassuring and filled with something that sounded like a promise.

  No promises. She covered her face and turned away. Promises were made to be broken. Hidden in the exhausted darkness, she gave him honesty. “I wish you hadn’t. I hate when people see. It always feels like I’m on display.”

  “Babe,” he said softly. “I’m here.” His hands seemed to hesitate again, then moved up her thighs and paused there, his thumbs rubbing gently. “Nowhere else I’d want to be, if you’ll let me stay.” His hands glided up the outside of her thighs and over her hips to the bare flesh of her stomach. He smiled at her, then gripped her waist. “I’m here.” Hoss held her motionless with the weight of his stare. There was an intensity to his expression she didn’t recognize, and sudden nervousness made Cassie shift restlessly.

  Hoss glanced down to where his hands held her body. She knew the moment he saw it—saw them—because his eyes flew back up, fastening on hers. “Cassie,” he breathed her name. Heat rose in her cheeks, scalding her skin as his fingertips trailed down the silvery lines on her belly. Her belly jolted, going concave as his thumb traced the scar that slashed across from hip to hip. “You got a kid?”

  “No.” Her voice quavered, and she fisted her hands in the sheets.

  Hoss shook his head, the expression on his face strained. “Baby, can’t deny the evidence written on your body.” He frowned, brows drawing together in a scowl as his hands slowed. “You got a kid. You carried him here”—his hot palm covered her stomach, a surprisingly intimate touch that caused her breath to hitch—“and you got a C-section scar.”

  Grief broke over her then, and she closed her eyes again, shutting him out, refusing to watch his face change once he knew. “No. I don’t have a child. I did have, for nearly nine months. Then I didn’t.”

  “Oh, baby,” he whispered, and she knew she was crying when his thumb swept her cheek, smoothing the wet away, leaving chilled, barren skin behind. He moved then, shifting to lie on his back before he gathered her up as he had the night before, arm around her, comforting, supporting. Once they were settled, he ordered, “Tell me.” His stern voice brooking no argument, as if he had the right to know.

  So fucking brave

  Hoss

  Hoss hadn’t known what he was asking. As had once happened with a much younger Sammy—when he’d used the boy’s mother’s phrase of “no lies”, which had told Sammy a serious, no-shit conversation was coming—he had said those two words “tell me” without knowing what he’d bought.

  When she was done talking and had cried herself out, once more falling asleep on his chest, Hoss let the story she’d stumbled through play out again in his mind.

  Eighteen years ago, Cassandra Williamson had been finishing her degree in forensic investigation downstate, studying in the library most nights if she wasn’t working. Twenty-one years old, she had been in the wrong place, wrong time, just walking home after cramming for a test. Normal night, normal routine, moon shining down without a care. Everything seemed fine on her normal route—until it wasn’t.

  “I was conscious through the whole thing.” Her voice wavered then firmed, and he threaded his fingers through hers, giving her something to hold to as she talked. “I was on the sidewalk in front of this house that was for sale. I didn’t see or hear anything. There was nothing, no warning. One minute I was headed home, and the next my ears were ringing and I was being dragged into this empty backyard.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “The moon was so pretty. I remember thinking that.”

  “They raped you.” Not a question, but Hoss still needed to be certain how this tied to the scar on her belly.

  “Yes. They took turns holding me down. It hurt so much. I’d had sex, had boyfriends, you know?” Her voice was thin with the painful memories. “But that didn’t matter. It was different from having sex with someone you know. They just took from me. They didn’t say anything, but it was so noisy.” Cassie’s cheek pressed tighter to his chest. “I couldn’t see their faces.”

  “They wore masks?” Her hair moved on his chest as she nodded. “Were they caught?”

  “No.”

  “So, no trial?” He tightened his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer. The Rebels had dealt with this kind of thing in the past, and he wouldn’t be above asking them to help him find
retribution for her if they could.

  “No. No arrests and no trial.” She scoffed deep in her throat, and the painful sound rocked him. Something else must have happened to make her feel so angry. “Not a court trial at least. The trial of public opinion, though? I lost that battle early on.”

  “Your friends didn’t believe you?” Hard to believe his Cassie didn’t have friends, not when she was so beautiful and sweet.

  “My friends, yeah. But I didn’t have a lot of those. The other kids had their own ideas. It didn’t matter that I had bruises and stitches, didn’t matter how many times I talked about trying to fight them off. How my voice was gone for days from the screaming.” Every word washed over him like a cold wave, leaching strength from his bones. She painted an unforgettable image with her words, and even the remembered pain in her voice was killing him. I’m a coward. She lived through it, the least I can do is listen.

  “Babe.” Strangled, the word was a poor substitute for the comfort he wanted to give her, but she shook her head.

  “Let me finish. I only have it in me for this once.” He nodded. She took a deep breath. “Either I was the poor, violated girl who needed to be pitied. The girl who was as fragile as a porcelain vase, so they had to tiptoe around me. Or I was the girl with nothing to lose. A sleaze who got more than I bargained for.” Her hand caressed his chest, the trembling touch of her fingers a tattoo of fear. “A slut who had too good a time.”

  “Jesus.” He put a bent knuckle under her chin and lifted her face to his, brushing a kiss across her lips. “No more, baby. No more, please.”

  “I have to. You asked for it. ‘Tell me.’” Her eyes glimmered with tears, and he watched as wetness clumped her lashes together. “I have to.”