To Save Sir (Doms of Decadence Book 7)

by Laylah Roberts

  “I bet. Curt, I’m not really up to being around other people.”

  “No other people. Just me. We’ll go to my place, have a drink, and you can tell me how things are going with you.”

  Damn it. She should say no. But he was like a sweet treat being offered after a month of dieting. And she’d never been good at resisting temptation.

  ***

  This had been a bad idea.

  He watched as Jenna moved around his living room. It was a small, one-bedroom apartment. The living, dining, and kitchen areas were all open plan so he could easily see her as he grabbed a couple of beers out of his fridge. He grimaced as he scrounged around for any food to offer. A block of cheese and a couple of wrinkled tomatoes looked back at him.

  She was still too thin. Maybe he should order a pizza. Then he could make certain she ate.

  As he walked slowly towards her, he studied his apartment, trying to see it through her eyes. Sparse and cold were the two words that came to mind. At least it was clean, thanks to his next-door neighbor, who he paid to clean it once a week.

  The living room held a couple of leather armchairs and a huge TV that was secured to the wall. No pictures or plants or colorful cushions to break up the white paint, gray carpet, and black furniture.

  He grimaced then walked over and handed her a beer.

  “Sorry, I don’t have anything else to offer.”

  She smiled. “That’s okay, I don’t drink much anyway.”

  “I’m gonna order a pizza. Is there anything you don’t like?”

  She turned to look out the window. This apartment had one thing going for it and that was the view. “Wow, this is amazing.” She looked out across the Dallas skyline. “Beautiful. Oh, I’m not hungry, thanks. But you go ahead.”

  He decided to order a couple of pizzas. She was going to eat something, even if he had to feed her himself. His cock stirred at the thought of her kneeling between his legs as he fed her.

  Shit. He had to stop this. This was Jenna. Not a sub from the club. Not that he ever brought any of the subs back to his place. He never brought anyone here. He quickly ordered the pizza then turned back to find her watching him.

  “You don’t have any pictures of Amelia,” she said with soft eyes.

  He glanced away, feeling like a fraud. She probably thought it was because he was still mourning or some such shit. Truth was, he couldn’t look at that bitch’s face without feeling murderous.

  “I get it.”

  “Do you?” he asked harshly.

  Her eyes widened and she took a step back. Fuck. The last thing he wanted was to scare her.

  “Jenna, shit. Sorry.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was stupid and insensitive. I’ve never really lost anyone. I mean, I lost Amelia too, but I didn’t love her like you did. We were never really that close, and, well, I’m sorry. That was a really stupid thing to say.”

  He had to turn away before he did something idiotic. Like try to shut her up by pulling her into his arms and kissing her. Or by telling her the truth, but that was something he never intended to talk about. Especially not with Jenna.

  “Another beer?” he asked.

  He turned back to find her staring at her still full bottle and knew he’d drunk that last one too fast. He’d gotten rid of all the hard liquor in the apartment because one scotch had soon turned into four or five. He didn’t like how out of control he’d felt or how he’d come to rely on alcohol to get him to sleep so he’d thrown it all out and now when he couldn’t sleep he went to the club or the gym. It was healthier, at least physically.

  “No, thanks.”

  He sat on one of the chairs, hoping to put her more at ease. She looked wide-eyed and on edge, like she was thinking of bolting. Not that he could blame her. He was acting like an ass.

  “So, what happened in your session with Lacey today?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t feel like talking about it.” But she came over and sat in the chair next to him. She ran her finger around the rim of the bottle, not drinking from it.

  “Talking can help.”

  “Yeah? How’s that working for you?” she challenged.

  He raised one eyebrow, surprised by the belligerent note in her voice.

  She looked away. “Sorry, don’t mean to be rude. Just a bad day.”

  “It’s working out pretty poorly for me,” he told her honestly, and she turned to him, looking surprised. “I’ve buried my shit deep because I think then it won’t affect me.”

  “But that doesn’t work?”

  For him, it was the only way he could move forward, keep going. But it wasn’t what he wanted for her. Because those problems festered and ate away at you until you became a messed-up fool like he was.

  “Nope.” He waved his hand around his place. “Not unless you want to end up like this. Alone, living in a crappy apartment, bitter and twisted.”

  “You’re not bitter and twisted.”

  “Maybe I’m just not that way with you. Maybe everyone else thinks I’d give Ebenezer Scrooge a run for his money.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “If you’re so awful then how come everyone at Black-Gray likes you?”

  “Maybe I’m just a good actor.” He winked, as though joking around. But the truth of it was, he was bitter, twisted, and dark.

  “So, you going to tell me more about this session with Lacey? Must have been bad if you didn’t hear me calling out to you. You looked so pale I was worried you’d pass out.”

  The door buzzed before she could say anything, and he rose, grabbing his wallet. “That’s the pizza.”

  When he returned, she was where he’d left her. Looking entirely too small in his large recliner. He sat the pizza box on the floor.

  “Sorry, I don’t have a coffee table.”

  “How long have you lived here?” she asked.

  “Um, about three years.”

  “Oh.”

  He had to hide a grin. “You thought I’d just moved in, didn’t you?”

  She nodded then smiled. “You like minimalism, huh?”

  “Something like that. Hawaiian or meat lovers?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  He just patiently waited, not saying anything. She sighed. “You’re the most stubborn person I know,” she grumbled, but she reached for a piece of pizza and took a bite. And he felt a ridiculous surge of satisfaction, knowing she was eating. That he’d seen to her care.

  Get a grip, Curt.

  He grabbed a piece of pizza to hide his surge of emotion.

  They ate in silence for a moment while he thought of the best way to approach the topic of her session with Lacey. He didn’t know why he felt the need to push her, to know what was going on. He could put it down to caring about a friend all he liked, but it wouldn’t be the truth. At least not the full truth. He didn’t care about his other friends like this.

  When she’d eaten a slice then settled back into the recliner with a yawn, he placed down his piece and turned to her. He’d eaten three and hadn’t tasted any of it.

  “What happened in therapy today, Jenna?”

  She shook her head and gave him a small smile. “You just never give up, do you?”

  “Nope. So you might as well tell me.”

  “I finally remembered it all.” She frowned slightly. “Well, maybe not all of it. I think there are bits still missing. Lacey said they might still come back to me.” She rubbed her hand over her face and leaned forward resting her elbows against her knees. “I can’t believe I forgot all of it. How could I forget about all those people being murdered?”

  There was horror in her voice. Fear. He hated that she’d gone through all of that. That so much evil had touched her. Part of him had hoped she’d never remember any of it.

  She looked over at him. “You know that saying, be careful what you wish for? I was so sure I wanted to remember. I was so frustrated that my stupid brain was blocking the memories
from me. Now I realize it was probably doing me a huge favor. Not sure how I would have coped with it all when I first got back. Not sure how I’m going to cope with it now.”

  Those beautiful, pale blue eyes filled with tears.

  Shit.

  “Jenna, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you to tell me all of this.”

  He felt helpless to stop her pain. It wasn’t something he was used to feeling.

  She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I need to learn how to live with this, right? To cope with the memories without falling apart when someone mentions what happened.”

  “You need to cut yourself some slack. I don’t know anyone who’d be coping as well as you are right now.”

  And why was she having to deal with it alone? Where was her family? Why weren’t they accompanying her to therapy? Supporting her?

  He leaned forward, clenching his hands against the need to take her into his arms. To pull her over and tuck her in against his chest and keep her safe.

  “All the memories came rushing back. So fast and so real it made me ill.” She placed her hand over her stomach, her gaze fixated on the wall in front of her. But he knew she wasn’t really seeing the wall. “The gunshots came first. Then the screams. Oh, God.” She shuddered, and he wasn’t strong enough to resist. Standing, he pulled her up then settled down in the chair and drew her into his lap. He’d started this. He had to listen to whatever she wanted to tell him. No matter how much it would hurt.

  He ran his hand up and down her back, feeling the tremble run through her. “You must have been terrified.”

  “They didn’t want me to go, you know.”

  “Who? Where?” The rebels? The other doctors?

  “My parents. They didn’t want me to go to Sudan. My mother did her usual performance. First, she tried bribery then anger then came the guilt. It’s rare for us to get to guilt because I normally give in before then and give her what she wants.”

  “But not this time.”

  “No, not this time. This time I stuck to my guns. I knew she wasn’t going to like it but I wanted to do something, you know? I wanted to help. I was so naïve I actually thought I was going to make a difference. I didn’t want to take some job at a private practice like my mother wanted. For some reason, she thinks the only reason I went to medical school was to find myself a rich, handsome doctor to marry. Preferably a plastic surgeon so he could help her in her fight against ageing. She’s winning, by the way. She looks younger than me.”

  He’d seen her mother recently, and she did look youthful. But it was all fake. Everything about Lorraine Jasons was artificial, from her nails to her skin to her attitude. She’d never liked him but she always greeted him with an air kiss to the cheek and talked to him like he was her long-lost son.

  How someone as genuine and sweet as Jenna had come from that woman, he had no idea.

  “I don’t need someone to look after me. I can take care of myself.”

  He disagreed but he knew better than to argue that point right now. Sometimes it paid just to stay quiet when a woman was talking. He’d learned that the hard way.

  “But what really surprised me was that Daddy agreed with her.” She glanced up at him. “He didn’t want me to go either.”

  Curt got it. Had he known of her plans to join Doctors Without Borders and head into one of the most dangerous countries on the planet he’d have put his foot down and told her she wasn’t going.

  Okay, so she was a grown woman, but she’d been sheltered all her life. She’d grown up thinking there was good in everyone. She didn’t have that hard, cynical edge to her. Not like he did. Sudan was not a place she belonged.

  Again, he remained quiet. He wasn’t stupid enough to incite her anger over something that had already happened. There was no question of her ever returning. It would be over his dead body.

  “So, I had my mother trying to guilt me into staying, and my father practically ordering me not to go. Do you know how it felt to leave when I didn’t have their support? I was so upset. But I thought I could finally make a difference, you know? What a naïve idiot I was.”

  He frowned, not liking her self-deprecating tone. “You are not a naïve idiot.”

  “Really? How did I think that anything I did would count? I was there a month, Curt. A whole freaking month before I saw everyone in that village murdered. Women, children, my colleagues. I can hear Alana begging for her life as she knelt next to me in the dirt. She was sobbing, telling them how she had a family back home, a daughter and son. A husband. And they just shot her. One minute she was there. The next she was dead. And her babies don’t get to see their mother anymore.”

  Curt held her tightly as she started to sob, her body trembling against his. “Why did they do that? Why kill everyone? Why not kill me?”

  “They wanted you for a reason.”

  “For the money? Then why didn’t they tell Daddy how to pay the ransom?”

  I’d like to know that as well.

  “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. You guys rescued me. But if they came to the village for me then why kill everyone else?”

  “Because they’re extremists. All they care about is their cause, not how much damage they do to those around them.”

  She shook her head. “It’s my fault.”

  He should have known that was coming. He tilted her face up, hating the tears that ran down her face, the sheer misery and guilt he could see. “It’s not your fault. It’s their fault.”

  “But they came to get me, right? If I hadn’t been there . . . if I’d just listened to my parents. They were right to not want me to go.”

  Except their reasons, like his, were purely selfish. They didn’t want her to go because they wanted to keep her safe. Jenna, as usual, was thinking of everyone else but herself.

  “What about during the time you were held captive? Do you remember much from then?”

  She wiped her face with her sleeve, the action reminding him of when he’d first met her. Only three years old with tears running down her round face, her lower lip trembling as she stared down at the melting blob of ice cream on the ground.

  “A bit, I guess. Are you sure you want to hear all this?”

  No, he didn’t. But if there was something he’d learned it was that not talking didn’t help. Not that he ever talked about his bad shit. But he didn’t want Jenna making his mistakes. It was too late for him. He’d keep his issues buried until he died. She had her whole life ahead of her. She could go find that doctor to marry. Someone who’d look after her like she deserved. She’d have a big house, three kids, a crazy dog, and a husband who came home each night for dinner.

  “Yes, tell me.” Damn he hated this. If he thought he had any hope in hell of finding the assholes who’d taken her, he’d be searching them out now and making them pay for each bruise they’d inflicted on her, every moment of fear. But they’d scattered, and he’d be chasing his own tail.

  “I knelt there in the dirt, staring down at Alana’s body. She didn’t move. Her eyes just stared, and I knew she was dead. But I couldn’t help but reach over and touch her. I thought I was next. I thought the next gunshot was going to kill me. Someone grabbed me roughly from behind. Before I could do anything, before I could react, there was a prick on my neck. When I woke up I was in that dark hut, the one you found me in. I felt so ill. Whatever they gave me didn’t agree with me, and I started vomiting. I had no idea where I was. It was so dark, I couldn’t see anything in front of me, not even my own hand. I’ve never been somewhere so dark.”

  He kissed the top of her head soothingly.

  “I still have to sleep with the light on,” she confessed quietly.

  “So do I.”

  She snorted and pulled back to smile up at him. “You are so full of shit. You’re not afraid of anything.”

  “You think not?” She was right, not much scared him. Except for her. His feelings for her. He knew he had to put some distance between them. He didn’t want to f
eel this way about anyone.

  “When I finally stopped vomiting, I tried to move. I thought perhaps they’d dumped me somewhere. When I attempted to stand, I realized there was something around my ankle. I couldn’t walk more than a few feet. I started to cry then. I bawled like a baby.”

  She sounded almost ashamed of her reaction.

  “Most people would have done the same.”

  “Not you.”

  “True, but I think we established I’m superman.”

  “I thought you said you couldn’t be superman because you didn’t have a weakness.”

  “Jesus, that makes me sound like an arrogant ass.”

  “If the shoe fits . . .” She grinned at him. A real grin. He tickled her lightly, and she giggled, trying to get away from him.

  “Little brat. Should have spanked you as a kid, maybe then you wouldn’t be giving me this lip.”

  She snorted. “You wouldn’t have spanked me.”

  Not then, but now? He pushed that thought from his head.

  “What happened next?”

  She stiffened. “They came for me. One of them was yelling something, but I couldn’t understand him. They undid the cuff then dragged me out of the hut and into the middle of the clearing. It was late afternoon, and they all wore those bandanas over their faces, so all I could see were there eyes. I was shivering, and still trying to recover from the aftereffects of whatever they’d drugged me with. I tried to talk with them, to ask why they’d brought me there, what they wanted.” She let out a sob. “But they didn’t say anything. One of them just grabbed my arms, pinning them behind my back while another one beat on me. Oh, God, I’ve never been hurt like that. I mean, I had a few fights as a kid, but this was . . . it was . . . they never even talked, you know? They just hit me, over and over. Others stood around watching as though it was something they saw every day. No one tried to stop them. No one tried to interfere. Long after I thought I couldn’t take anymore I was just dropped to the ground. I lay there, so sore I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe. As I lay there I heard one of them call for a camera.”

  “Wait, you heard one of them?” He knew his voice was too tight, too low, but he could barely control the rage engulfing him.