I Am Lioness (The Bloodshed Series Book 1)

by Dee Garcia

  A profound rumble erupted from deep within his chest when I threaded my fingers through his hair and tugged them in my grasp.

  “Can I serve you on a plate and have you for breakfast instead?” His question was mumbled against my lips.

  Oh my God.

  My entire core clenched at the image those words elicited. I could have melted into a puddle from how overheated I felt. Temptation to give in was right there but I shooed it away before I could cave and convince myself otherwise.

  I caught his lower lip between my teeth and shook my head, pulling away to see those baby blues snap open.

  “We don't have time for fine dining right now, Mr. Carr.” I said in a voice I didn't recognize. “But I'll feed you breakfast as long as we can stay right here.”

  Knox glanced down to inspect our bodies pressed together and then back at me, licking his lips. Clearly my compromise was to his liking. “Deal, but only because you're right. I’ll need plenty of time to devour you proper, the way I want.”

  I squeezed him between my legs, feeling the heat in my belly begin to coil.

  He. Was. Killing. Me.

  And he knew it too, a devilish little smirk curling his lip.

  Slick bastard.

  Breathing through the urge to pounce on him, I cupped his chin and pecked his lips again. “Naughty boy.” I teased.

  “Oh, baby, you have no idea.” He chuckled darkly.

  We managed to behave long enough to actually eat the breakfast Knox had cooked. Granted, we did feed each other which led to stolen kisses in between bites but the point was that we ate and cleaned up the kitchen just in time to get ready for the long day ahead.

  It wasn't until I shed my pajamas and was standing under the scalding spray that the reason why we were here came flooding back to the forefront of my mind. A monstrous wave of guilt washed over me and I began to bawl, trying my best to keep quiet.

  How could I have forgotten in the first place?

  How could I have experienced such happiness amidst a time when I should have been grieving?

  What was wrong with me?

  I went through the motions of showering and washing my day old hair with an endless stream of tears rolling down my cheeks, melding with the water raining down on me.

  Reflecting back on each day since Bernie had passed, I realized that—for the most part—whenever I was with Knox, I was happy. I could breathe, I could function. Yes, there were moments of utter grief where the pain was nearly unbearable but Knox seemed to be my cure-all.

  He cut through the torment and lead me back to the light, the light that only seemed to shine around him. His presence was a soothing balm that helped me cope and I didn’t know whether to be thankful or alarmed that he had such power to clear the darkness from my mind.

  An hour later, I had tamed my curls and dressed in the very black dress I’d worn one too many times, for the exact same occasion. I was standing in front of the full length mirror beside Knox’s massive bed, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles on it when there was a knock at the door.

  “You ready, baby?” Knox asked quietly, poking his head inside the room.

  I willed away the tears welling in my eyes and nodded, turning to grab my black heels from the bag I had laid on the bed. Slipping them on my feet, I tucked away the everyday essentials into my black clutch and dragged my ass to the door where Knox stood. He smiled when I peeked up at him, bringing a hand up to cup my cheek.

  “Beautiful as always.”

  I scoffed, feeling anything but beautiful. I didn’t want to feel beautiful anyway. I wanted to look and feel as hideous as my conscious told me I was. Not an easy feat when you had Knox Carr looking at you like you were indeed the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Bypassing his compliment, I tipped my head up and planted a soft kiss on his cheek instead.

  We drove in silence to the service with Jason and Emmanuel on our tail in Manny’s SUV. As per the instructions on Bernie’s will—which was recovered by Jason back in Austin—there was to be no viewing prior to the memorial like a traditional funeral. Typical Bernie, very simple and straight to the point. He never liked people fussing over him. Made sense he didn't want a fuss in death either.

  When we parked in front of Wayfarer’s chapel, my stomach began roiling. I knew what awaited me inside that marvelous glass structure and I wasn't ready to face it. I wasn't ready to say goodbye to my old man or come to terms with the fact that he was indeed gone forever.

  Knox squeezed my hand knowingly before coming around to help me out of the car. The door swinging open startled me for no apparent reason other than my nerves suddenly working on overdrive. I took a deep breath and placed my shaky hand in his, setting my feet onto the pavement.

  Looking around, I noticed how gloomy the day had become. Dark, thunderous clouds loomed above us and a slight chill rolled through with the occasional breeze, swaying the palm trees and rustling loose leaves across the parking lot.

  “It's going to storm.” Said Jason, as he and Manny approached us. “We better get inside.”

  Oh, it was going to storm alright, both in and out of that chapel. I could already feel it brewing within me, threatening to unleash its wrath at any given moment. Dread and utter fear filled my veins and my chest began to heave in time with the speedy tempo of my heart rate.

  Knox slipped an arm around my shoulders as we moved toward the doors, hugging me closely to his side.

  “Breathe, baby.” He reminded me.

  I nodded and tried to focus on how beautiful the interior of the chapel was. The walls were massive rectangular windows held together by thick wooden beams that met overhead in a peak. Some caved in, holding bushels of vibrant greenery that drew your attention to the view just beyond the glass. It was breathtaking.

  As we stepped further down the aisle, a small smile tugged at my mouth when I noticed people seated in the pews. I wasn't expecting to see anyone in attendance other than us, not even Bernie’s daughter. The obituary we’d submitted to the newspaper must have reached those who truly cared about Bernie in one way or another and the thought warmed my heart. But that warmth quickly froze over and the smile on my face vanished when I caught sight of the casket in the center of the stone altar.

  I gasped as his lifeless profile came into view, jerking me to a stop in the aisle. My head spun and the contents of my breakfast rolled around in my stomach, creeping its way back up my throat. Shaky legs dropped me to my knees and then a guttural sob rattled through me, echoing in the silence of the chapel.

  Bernie’s funeral was no less painful to experience than any other I’d had the unfortunate opportunity of attending. I sat between Knox and Emmanuel, attempting to hold myself together after the breakdown I’d suffered when we first arrived.

  For the most part, I was doing well… until it was my turn to stand behind the podium and deliver my parting words. I can’t explain it, but it was almost an outer-body happening of sorts, as though I were seeing it through my own eyes yet somehow I could also see it from my seat behind Knox.

  With a shake of my head, I unfolded the paper that contained everything I wanted to say to my old man and took a deep breath. What I did next though was without a doubt the biggest mistake I could possibly make.

  I peered over my shoulder and the sight of Bernie’s prone body instantly left me in shambles. I crumbled into millions of tiny pieces, unable to form the words I so desperately wanted to say. I was painfully breathless and I cried—hard, loud, and shamelessly before the congregation, gripping the podium with every bit of strength I could muster to reign myself in.

  It took several minutes and many cleansing breaths to gather control. The wrinkled paper held hostage in my shaky hand was wet with my grief, some of the words now smudged into illegible territory. I straightened my spine and let my gaze drift across the distressed faces seated before me, clearing my throat to begin my speech.

  “Pops… Shocked does not begin to cover what I feel as I sit here trying to wr
ite this letter to you. A letter of goodbye”—my lip quivered—“There aren’t enough words to thank you for everything you brought into my life the day you saved me. You brought me light, hope, a second chance to live. If it weren’t for you, there’s a great possibility I wouldn’t be here today. Whether it was the fatherly instinct within you or simply the desire to help a stranger from the kindness of your heart, thank you,” I brittled out, wiping the tears that rolled down my cheeks. “Thank you for seeing something worthy in me. Thank you for watching over me all those nights in the gym. Thank you for teaching me how to channel my anger, my pain in a constructive manner. Thank you for taking me under your wing, for treating me as your daughter, and for loving me even when I was most difficult. And most of all,” I paused, swallowing down the clog in my throat. “Thank you for being you. My life will forever be changed because of all that you were and I promise with every fiber of my being that I will never forget you. You may no longer be here with me walking the planes of this earth, but your memory with always live in my heart. I love you, old man. Always and forever, with everything I am and all that I’ll ever be.”

  By the time we arrived at the cemetery, it was pouring heavily. The minister kept his closing speech short and those who followed us from the chapel took turns placing a white rose on top the casket.

  Standing under that green tent, mere feet away from where Bernie’s body would rest for eternity may have been worse than the service itself, especially as I watched them lower the casket into the ground where soon it would no longer be visible.

  Soon after the burial was over and we’d said our goodbyes, Knox and I headed back to his condo. He’d barely reversed from the parking spot and pulled out onto the main road when he reached over the center console and took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. Even with his comforting embrace keeping me grounded, the car ride was once again made in silence save for the rain pelting against the windshield and the sound of the wipers swishing every few seconds.

  The entire trip was one big blur of gray clouds, sad skies, street lights, and passing cars, and when we pulled up in front of his building, I was slightly confused.

  He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to my wet cheek before stepping out into the rain to come around and help me out of the car with umbrella in hand. Ushering me upstairs without a word, he left me only to shower and take a nap, but once I slid into his bed, alone, I couldn't close my eyes.

  Images of Bernie laying in that casket kept flashing through my mind, his face and hands swollen from all the embalming fluid used to preserve his body. It hadn't looked anything like him and I'd instantly regretted even approaching the casket when I realized that would be the last and final image I’d have of the man who was like my father.

  The sound of my cries must have carried through the rooms because at one point, I felt the mattress dip and then Knox was pulling me into his chest, which in turn made me cry harder. And he let me. He let me cry, let me grieve. Through every shudder, every new wave of sobs, he was calm, gentle, and affectionate, yet still the strong fixture I needed to push past the tears.

  He’d run his fingers through my hair or place a tender kiss anywhere within reach. I don't remember when exactly he turned me around and swallowed me in his arms, but the second I buried my face in the crook of his neck and inhaled his comforting scent, I began to settle. The tears dried and all that was left were hiccups that wracked my entire body until everything faded into darkness.

  Sometime during the night I'd been awoken by a nightmare, a new and very vivid nightmare about Knox that shook me to my core and made me want to scream in agony.

  My heart was ready to burst from chest as I shot up with a gasp, a heavy sheen of sweat clinging to every inch of my skin. I remember glancing over at his unmoving form and panicking until I sidled close and placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath my palm. I laid myself beside him but couldn’t sleep nor did I dare to try in fear the nightmare would strike again.

  After hours of tossing and turning though, I ended up drifting off with Knox’s arm draped over me and morbid images flashing through my mind.

  The following morning I woke with a renewed sense of dread. My paranoia was at an all-time time high and my heart was heavy knowing what I was undoubtedly going to have to do sometime before I left for the airport that evening. It wasn't going to be easy by any means and it was definitely going to cause us both a great deal of pain, but it had to done.

  We spent the day within the walls of his condo, lounging around on the couch and watching Netflix. Whenever he got too close, I shivered with fear, and I knew he could sense the sudden shift in my demeanor. It was written all over his face yet he chose not to question me for which I was grateful because I was not ready to open that can of worms just yet.

  When 7pm rolled around, I excused myself to go shower and pack up my belongings. Knox yanked my arm as I made my way past him and pulled me in for a kiss, cupping my face and pouring everything he had into it. The tension was there though, utterly palpable in the way his lips grazed over mine.

  He was as fearful as I was, obviously for different reasons, and what hurt me most was that he had no idea how much worse this would be by the time I left.

  As I was folding my clothes and setting them into the duffle bag, Knox cracked open the door and then his voice resounded through the room.

  “Can I come in?” He asked quietly.

  I sucked in a deep breath and prayed to the Heaven’s above to provide me with strength.

  “Yeah, I’m just packing the last of my stuff.”

  The door swung open and he sauntered in, looking wary and confused.

  I zipped up the bag and dropped it beside my large rolling suitcase. When I spun around Knox was behind me.

  Here we go.

  “Thank you”—I wrapped myself around him—“for everything. I'm not sure how I would've gotten through these last few days without you.”

  His arms engulfed me and he buried his face in the crook of my neck. “Why do I get the feeling you're telling me goodbye?”

  I fell silent, unsure of how to say what needed to be said and what so desperately needed to be done, before it was too late.

  Uncertainty hung in the air around us and I knew it was probably taking everything within him not to press me for an answer. We just stood there, clinging to one another, my fingers clenching the back of his tee tightly.

  “Because I am.” I finally brittled out.

  Knox stilled. Then he squeezed me against him and I could feel his heart racing in his chest. “Don't do this.”

  Those three little words almost wrecked me but I stood my ground. “I don't have much of a choice.”

  “Yes you do. It might not be easy but we can make this work.”

  “I don't think so, Knox. I'm not in any condition to be attempting a relationship. Not to mention, I'm leaving again and the distance will be further this time. I also have to find a new coach and focus on the finals. Moving forward just feels like a disaster waiting to happen.”

  “Has it been a disaster thus far?”

  “No, but…”

  “Then what’s the problem? I’d say everything has been damn near perfect until now. I won't lie, the distance sucks, but we’ve already made it halfway through the season. I'd endure another year of it, no matter how far the League took you, if it meant I could have you. Look at me...”

  I shook my head. One look at those baby blues and I was bound to lose it for sure.

  “Look at me.” He demanded, his tone more firm this time.

  Please, God, do not let me cry right now.

  Sucking in as much air as my lungs would allow, I craned my head back and rested my chin on his chest. I had to bite my lip to quell the sob that bubbled in my throat from the tormented look marring his gorgeous face.

  “You’re upset,” he started, “devastated, grieving...I get it. Don’t push me away, though. Don’t make bullshit excuses and push me
away during a time you when should want me around most. Do you have any idea how much it’s killed me to see you like this, under these circumstances, and to know there's nothing I can do about it? I feel so helpless, hell, I feel useless…”

  “Knox, don’t…”

  He set one finger over my lips. “You wanted me by your side just yesterday, right? Isn’t that reason enough now?”

  Yes, I wanted to say. I couldn’t though. Bernie’s death was my sign. I’d played fate far too long, had convinced myself I was in the clear, when in reality I was only provoking it by allowing Knox to be in my life.

  This is how it had to be.

  He would more than likely hate me when it was all said and done, but it was better he hate me than die because of me. This was the only way I could protect him.

  “We have to end this. “ I whispered.

  Knox’s head flew back in disbelief and almost immediately I could feel the burn of his scrutinizing gaze. I turned away, feeling myself shrink smaller and smaller by the second. I couldn’t bear to look him in the eye and see the pain I’d put there.

  When his hands fell away and he took a few steps back, I almost gasped as that overwhelming and all too familiar feeling of desolation hit me like a freight train. He hadn’t even left the room and I already felt like I wanted to shatter.

  “Why?” He asked gruffly, prompting me to peer in his direction. “Why are you doing this? You call me in a hysterical state, telling me you wished I was with you. So I drop every damn thing to fly out and be by your side, and then you do this? Why, Hazel? Please explain because I’m having a hard time understanding.”

  Words failed me once more. There was nothing I could say or do that would truly make him understand why it had to be this way.

  The silence stretched between us and I could see him becoming more and more agitated. His brow was furrowed, his chest rising and falling a little faster, hands clenched into fists at his sides. And his eyes, God, his eyes...they were like two razor sharp icicles boring into me with such intensity, I felt the moment they lacerated my heart.