by Lexy Timms
“If I’d stayed, I’d have gotten my head clear.”
His gaze narrowed as if remembering her state last night and considering her words this morning. “So you did slip and fall? If I hadn’t startled you, you’d have climbed back out?”
She nodded. “I hope so. I hadn’t gotten that far as to jump. I was thinking about it but was struck by how beautiful the play of moonlight on the water was. I thought if there was that much beauty in the world, why wasn’t there the same beauty in my world? I was lost in thinking I had no option but was still scrambling to find one.”
“And of course there is – but you have to open a door to let it in.”
Tears collected in the corner of her eyes. “No one has ever said that to me before.”
He smiled. “You opened the door. And now you will see beauty.”
“Lord, I hope so. So far there has only been ugliness in my life.”
“Not true, but you have focused on it more than the beauty. You choose what you want to see in your world. What you want to experience. If you’d seen something better, you’d have worked at changing your life for the better.”
Really? It was so not the words she’d expected to hear coming out of a heavily-tattooed biker’s mouth.
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
She would have shrugged but didn’t want to make him upset. “I haven’t heard anything like it before.”
“Then you have a lot of learning to do. Did you finish school?”
She shook her head. “No. I always wanted to but never got the chance.”
“You can now.”
How did that work? She stared at him in surprise. It took money to get an education. Money she didn’t have. Money she’d never have. But she’d love to go to school and get an education.
“What would you do if you went to school?”
She smiled. “No idea.”
“Sure you do.”
“How do you know?” She wanted to frown at him but again didn’t dare upset him, so she managed to keep her face neutral and composed. If there was something odd about lying in his bed, nude and rested, he showed no signs of being discomfited. In truth, she was the one who should be uneasy, and yet she wasn’t.
“Because we all have dreams. We all know inside that we want something different in our lives. Too often we ignore it as we don’t believe it can happen. That the dream is too far out of reach. So they shove it down deep and carry on with their lives as if it never existed.”
She didn’t know what to say because he was right. She just stared at him.
After a long moment, he said, “Cash.”
This time, she couldn’t have stopped the frown if she’d tried. “Sorry?” Was he offering her cash or saying cash was needed to go back to school?
“My name is Cash. I told you that last night, but I guess you were too out of it.”
She looked down. “I’m sorry. I had a lot on my mind.”
He smiled slightly and nodded.
She didn’t know what to say, it was such an unusual name that she wanted to comment but held her tongue.
“No comment?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Interesting.” He rolled over onto his back and groaned slightly.
“Are you hurt?”
“No, my muscles are just a little sore. A good workout and I’ll be fine.”
She sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. Lord knows why she bothered with modesty now, but it was different. More intimate. Greg would expect her to massage his back and be quick about it. Now she felt awkward, unsure. Should she offer? Did she want to offer? Or should she ignore him?
The real problem was she didn’t know how to act. What to say. What to do around him. She felt gauche. Awkward.
He straightened. “I’m going to have a shower. Why don’t you put on coffee?”
And he got up, swinging an obvious erection that he ignored even if she had trouble doing so.
She watched his muscled buttocks disappear around the corner, sad to see that gorgeous body disappear from sight. He was a stunning man.
And he’d said something about coffee. She hopped out of bed, eager to do something useful and hopefully get it correct. She stood alone in the bedroom, belatedly realizing that she had no clothes. Or purse or ID. She had nothing. Without ID, she couldn’t prove who she was.
It frightened her, but also gave her a sense of freedom.
She was no one. Yet she was someone.
And someone new.
What if she could get new ID? Was such a thing possible? She had no idea how to go about getting one. Maybe Cash did. But she’d not be asking him. He might be someone she needed to hide from as well.
But once the idea lodged in her brain, she couldn’t let it go.
There was no housecoat available, but she found a large t-shirt folded on the chair. She pulled it over her head and realized it was down almost to her knees. She was more than decently covered, and the kitchen was only a short hallway away. It was a different coffee maker than she was used to, but she figured it worked the same way as hers. Doing a mundane chore she’d done many times before brought her comfort in the routineness of it all. That it was a different setting brought her joy.
When the pot was dripping with hot brew – and she hoped he liked it strong – she opened the fridge hoping he might have cream inside. No. Ah well. He didn’t look like a man who doctored his caffeine, but she loved the creaminess first thing in the morning.
While she could hear the shower running, she did a cursory check of the contents of the kitchen. Fresh veggies and fruit. The cupboards were missing boxed and canned ingredients. There were a few there like some canned fish and tomatoes, but not much else. So he either liked to cook or he didn’t eat at home much. Greg had a penchant for pizza. Then again, many people did. The water in the shower shut off, sending her blood pressure up again.
She looked outside to see the sun shining through the tops of the trees. There was little to no activity out there, just an odd bird or two singing their heart out. She had no idea where she was, yet it looked to be a nice little residential area. Only not one she knew. There weren’t any run-down houses in sight, no obvious drug houses here. That was an improvement already. She’d hated the neighborhood that she’d lived in with Greg. He’d loved it. It gave him a dangerous appearance, he said. She hadn’t agreed with him and had been hit for disagreeing.
Now as she stared out the window into the pretty back yard with the early morning sun sending bright light across the big space, she had to wonder why she was still here. She could have left any time. Hell, he hadn’t even locked the door. She was free to go.
Except she had no clothes.
Neither had she looked for more to wear.
Frowning, she tried to sort out her mental state. Did she want to stay here? No. Well, maybe. The thing is, she didn’t want to go home, so here was as good a place as any. Considering she hadn’t been hurt in any way and she’d had a good night’s sleep, her body healing well this morning, she realized that this place was better than most. It was a place to hole up and think about what she was going to do next.
If Cash was okay with that.
She could co-exist here, if co-existence was something he wanted.
“I’m surprised to see you still here.” His calm voice sounded from behind her in the direction of the bedroom.
She bent her head to look down at her hands. “So am I,” she said in a low voice, hating that she immediately turned subservient. Was it just men that did this to her or would she turn this way with an aggressive female? Hopefully she’d never find out.
“Thank you for putting on coffee.”
“You asked me to,” she said, her tone of voice reasonable. Then winced. Depending on Greg’s mood, her comment would have gotten her a slap across the face.
“I did, but we ask for a lot in life and it seems like we don’t get half of it.”
She frowned. “How does that jibe with your earlier
conversation about getting what you want?”
He laughed. “Glad you remembered that.”
He poured two cups of coffee while she watched. He handed her one cup. “And what I mean is we tend to throw a wide net of wants but really don’t want all we ask for. It’s almost a habit instead of conscious thinking.”
His speech was similar to last night’s talk and at odds with his appearance again. He stood in front of her barefoot, wearing clean jeans and a white t-shirt, his face freshly shaved and his hair damp. She couldn’t tell if he was a biker or banker. His words and concepts said new age psychologist.
She sipped her coffee, letting the heat of the dark black brew slide down her mouth. His words were so foreign to her own understanding of the world. She didn’t know what to say but was very aware of the need to watch what she said.
He had to have a trigger point. Now if only she could learn what it was without getting him mad.
She needed to know where the limits were with this strange man. “Do you have a degree?”
What an odd question. She’d surprised herself with it. The answer didn’t matter. She just wondered.
“I do,” he said, surprising her again.
“Really?” When he nodded, she tried to tell herself it was normal. Lots of people had a good education. It’s just those people didn’t live in her world. She wracked her brain trying to think of anyone she knew that had as good an education and came up blank.
“Why is that so odd?” he asked. “Many of my friends have degrees.”
She nodded. “We obviously have different friends,” she added quietly.
“Hmmm.” He walked to the far side of the kitchen and leaned against it, staring at her over his cup. “Do you have any friends?”
Somehow that came out harsh, as if she was completely unloved by anyone. She hoped he didn’t mean it. She hoped she had an answer for him. She opened her mouth to say of course I do, but the words that came out were the ones she’d planned to say. “No, I don’t.” She frowned at herself and huffed lightly. “What is it about you that I say what I wasn’t planning to say?”
“Honesty is important, and here you feel safe. Honesty helps foster an atmosphere of healing. That’s what’s happening.”
There he went again with the weird speech. She like the sound of what he was saying but didn’t understand most of it. Because he had a degree? Or because she felt inferior?
“I’m making you uncomfortable,” he observed.
She shrugged. “Maybe. Your words and way of thinking are new to me.”
“Way of thinking maybe. The words are the same, just strung together in a different way.”
“Interesting.” And so was he.
“Glad you think so.” He studied her for a moment longer. “Your clothes are almost dry."
She brightened. “Thank you.”
“Not that you’re going anywhere.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “I’m not?” Now what was he saying? And she couldn’t sort out her own reaction to his words. Was that joy or anger? She didn’t recognize the feelings anymore, but at least it wasn’t apathetic
“Not yet.” His answer was smooth, silky.
She narrowed her gaze, not sure how to take him and his subtle threats. She’d never made a move to run even when she could so she didn’t know what the damage would be if she tried and he caught her. There was a part of her that knew he’d be more dangerous than Greg. What she didn’t know was at what point that danger would become reality. Was he a killer? Or was he only dangerous when protecting those he loved? She desperately wanted to be safe with him
He had that same underlying power, that calm menace that said if she didn’t do what he wanted her to do, then she’d pay. Or was it that she was looking for a punishment – because she’d always had a punishment? Was it possible she was still seeing Greg everywhere she looked? That would make sense, because it was all she had ever known.
She turned her gaze away and stared back out at the world.
“No comment.”
She shrugged. “I don’t understand and because I don’t, I’ll stay quiet until I do.”
“You could ask.”
She slid a sideways glance his way. “I don’t know you.”
He tilted his head to the side and walked closer. “And that means you can’t ask me something?” he asked in a voice rich with curiosity.
“I don’t know how you’ll react to my questions, do I?” she said. She was aiming for a reasonable tone of voice but from the frown on his face, she wasn’t sure she achieved it. She shifted back slightly.
His frown deepened.
“I won’t hurt you.”
Her eyebrows shot up, but she didn’t know what to say. If he wasn’t going to hurt her, why the threats?
“I want you to heal. Inside and out.”
“And how do you expect me to do that?” She studied him cautiously. “And why do you care?”
“Saying things like that is almost guaranteed to piss me off,” he snapped in a hard voice.
Heat flushed over her cheeks, only to drain away instantly, leaving a coldness inside. She backed up again as she tried to judge what his anger was going to mean for her.
“I said I won’t hurt you.”
She took a deep breath. “I heard you, but in my experience, anger means pain.”
He glared at her. “Then your experience has been limited to shitty people.”
That was the truth.
“Yet when that is my experience, how does one trust that not everyone is the same?”
“You have to step out of your boundaries and try,” he gritted out.
“And get slapped back?” She snorted. “No thanks.”
“Or maybe get a smile, a kiss, a gift of some kind. Or maybe nothing but acceptance – the greatest gift of all.”
“You say the damnedest things. Are you a shrink?”
He laughed. “What does that mean? A head doctor type of thing? No, I’m a therapist.”
She rolled her eyes. “Same thing.”
“Maybe to some people.”
She looked at the doorway he’d come from. “Are my clothes dry?”
“Probably.” He slid to the side to let her walk past him. “Go and see.”
She eyed the space he’d made for her and took a deep breath. Even after being held by him all night, she was worried about him turning ugly. What the hell was wrong with her? She took another deep breath and forced herself to walk past him and out of the room.
She’d done it. He hadn’t reached out and snatched her nor clipped her on the back of her head as she walked past.
Thank God.
***
Lord, he wanted to beat the crap out of the asshole husband who’d taught her to cringe when she walked past. She probably didn’t even notice the slight movement she made as she came closer. That shoulder shift, the leaning away from him as if he was going to reach out and hit her.
The man had brutalized her. Gentling her would be a whole new experience for him, but as he was starting to realize, it was one that would have the greatest outcome. She was beautiful on the inside, stunning on the outside. She was a flower whose growth had been stunted just at the point where it was ready to unfurl. So instead of blossoming, it was hibernating, waiting for the right conditions. He wanted her to have those conditions. He wanted her to blossom and he wanted to be there when it happened.
He waited for her to return.
She didn’t come back.
In the bedroom, he found her still in his t-shirt and sitting on the edge of the bed, tears rolling down her cheek. Shit.
He walked over and sat down beside her. Close, but not touching. “What’s wrong?”
She looked up at him, her eyes huge wells of pain. “I don’t know what to do.”
“To do?”
“Do I stay here with you? Do I pay for the food I eat, the piece of bed I take up? Am I supposed to pay in kind? Did you want to make a slave of me?” Her voice ro
se at the end. “I don’t understand.”
“And that’s the part you can’t handle, isn’t it? If I were to beat you, you’d be fine with it as that’s what you’re used to. But this unknown scares you.”
A shudder rippled down her back.
He sighed and tucked her up against his chest. “I don’t want a slave or a whore. You don’t have to pay for the food you eat or anything else here. I want you to heal. I’ll cover the costs. I’m not broke, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
He reached down and tilted her head back. “And get this really clear – when we go to bed and make love, it will be just that. It won’t be you paying for services, and neither will it be that you think it’s what you need to do to survive.”
Her gaze widened and her mouth opened, but no words came out. He nodded. “Exactly. You’ll be in my bed because there will be no other place you’d rather be.”
Now her mouth dropped open.
He grinned. “And just so you know what you have coming…”
He lowered his head and kissed her.
Chapter 6
The kiss caressed more than plunged, coaxed more than dominated, but at the same time it came with a deep, drugging sensation of possession. This man would never use force, and his stamp of ownership was all that much more powerful for it.
When he finally lifted his head, she sank against his chest weakly.
He held her close and murmured. “You will come to me when you’re ready.”
And he stepped back, gazed down at her, and surprised her with a complete change of conversation. “Now get dressed and I’ll make breakfast.”
She left the room, almost at a run, and found the washer and dryer with her clothes folded neatly on top. She didn’t know what to make of him. In her experience, men didn’t do this type of work at home if there was a woman around to do it for them. She knew there were men in the world who did such things and had seen it on television and in other people’s houses, but she’d never known anyone who did personally.
She dressed quickly. Her jeans didn’t appear to be any worse for wear and her t-shirt appeared whiter than normal. Or maybe she just thought it was. She ran her fingers through her hair and twisted it into a knot at the back. Ready to face him, she returned to the kitchen and watched as he cooked a big meal of bacon and eggs with toast. The coffee pot was half full. She glanced at it then decided she could have a second cup. While filling it, he asked, “Fill mine too, please.”
