Текст книги "Bang"
Автор книги: E. K. Blair
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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 21 страниц)
I ENDED UP leaving Declan the other night after our bath. Bennett was returning from Miami the following day and I wanted to be home in case he arrived early. I’ve been careful about my communication with Declan while my husband is home. We talk mostly through email because those are easily deleted unlike phone records that are logged and recorded. I would prefer to not even send emails, but Declan insists on talking to me throughout the day.
While Bennett is in the shower, I sit in the study to find that I already have an email waiting for me.
FROM: D. McKinnon
TO: Nina Vanderwal
SENT: Jan. 10, 1:23pm
SUBJECT: Want You
When does he leave? I want to see you.
-D
I quickly reply while I still hear the water running from Bennett’s shower.
FROM: Nina Vanderwal
TO: D. McKinnon
SENT: Jan. 10, 1:58pm
SUBJECT: Re: Want You
Some people find it polite to start with a greeting, even if it’s as small as a simple ‘Hello.’ But to answer your question, he leaves around 3:30pm.
-Nina
His response is almost immediate.
FROM: D. McKinnon
TO: Nina Vanderwal
SENT: Jan. 10, 2:00pm
SUBJECT: Greeting as suggested– HELLO.
Meet me at the hotel?
-D
FROM: Nina Vanderwal
TO: D. McKinnon
SENT: Jan. 10, 2:01pm
SUBJECT: Re: Greeting as suggested– HELLO.
We need to work on your social etiquette. Greetings in the subject line are rude as well. I can be there at 4:00pm.
-Nina
FROM: D. McKinnon
TO: Nina Vanderwal
SENT: Jan. 10, 2:04pm
SUBJECT: Etiquette Reject
4:00 then. Come to my room. I’ll leave an elevator key for you at the front desk.
-D
FROM: Nina Vanderwal
TO: D. McKinnon
SENT: Jan. 10, 2:05pm
SUBJECT: Cheap
Why do I feel like a prostitute or worse, a booty call?
-Nina
FROM: D. McKinnon
TO: Nina Vanderwal
SENT: Jan. 10, 2:06pm
SUBJECT: Cheap?
Booty call? What the hell is that? Regardless, you know damn well you are so much more than either of those. But I’m not going to sweeten it up for you; I need you, and I’m growing impatient and harder with each minute I don’t have your body all over mine. 4:00!!
-D
I laugh at the realization that he doesn’t pick up on the American slang as I delete the emails from my inbox and then delete out of my trash. Closing the laptop lid, I make my way into the bedroom where Bennett is walking out of the bathroom, covered in only a towel. I smile as I walk over to his suitcase.
“What’s that smirk all about?” he questions as he approaches.
“You.”
“What about me?”
“Walking around here wet, wearing only a towel, is a mean thing to do to your wife,” I tease.
“Why’s that?”
“Because you’re leaving me for a couple of weeks, and this is the lasting vision you’re giving me.”
“And what about what I gave you a couple hours ago?” he says, referring to the long sex session we had earlier.
“That will give me something to think about when I’m lying in bed at night . . . lonely.”
“You better call me when you’re feeling lonely,” he says suggestively, sparking me to laugh.
“Stop that. You need to go get ready before you start running late,” I nag. “I’ll finish packing for you.”
“Whatever you say, boss,” he jokes before kissing me chastely and then walking back into the bathroom.
I gather the rest of his things from his closet and make sure he has everything he needs packed up. Bennett and Baldwin will be in Dubai for the next two weeks, along with Richard. They will be working on hiring a team while the renovations are still underway. I shifted around Clara’s schedule to allow myself more freedom to come and go without her eyes on me.
When Bennett finally comes out of the bathroom about a half hour later, I decide to give him a proper good wife farewell. Maybe it’s my conscience weighing on me, or maybe it’s knowing I want to keep him from getting suspicious of me, but no matter what, I need to do whatever I can to make him think that what we have together is solid. So as I walk towards him, I reach under my arm and start unzipping the side zipper of my dress. He stays put, staring at me as I stroll across the room. When I’m standing in front of him, he slips his hands under the straps on my shoulders and allows the dress to fall to the floor around my feet.
“I just want you,” I tell him, “One more time before you go.”
“However many times you need, I’ll give it to you.”
And he does. Maybe I’m overcompensating, but I feel it’s needed as we lose all track of time. Once I’ve led him to believe that I’m fully sated, we pull ourselves together and regroup. I take a glance at the clock to see it’s already four and that I should be at Declan’s hotel. When Baldwin walks in to help Bennett with his luggage, I grab my coat from the closet and slip it on.
“Where are you headed?” Bennett asks, and I quickly lie, “I told Marcia I would meet her for a coffee when you left. But now you’ve made me late,” I flirt with a wink.
“I believe you made me late, Mrs. Vanderwal.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Not at all, and please feel free to make me even later if it suits you.”
I catch Baldwin smiling as he overhears our conversation and turn to Bennett, accusing, “You’re a perv.”
“Only for you,” he laughs. “I’m going to miss you.”
We say our goodbyes on the elevator down to the lobby. Bennett seems genuinely sad to be leaving me while I’m anxious to get to Declan, knowing I’m running really late. I keep it hidden though as I take my time playing the loving wife who’s already missing her husband who hasn’t even left yet. But when he does, and we exchange our gentle kisses, Bennett walks out to the car where Baldwin is waiting and I head down to the parking garage.
When I arrive at Lotus, I leave my car with the valet before walking in and picking up the keycard Declan left for me at the front desk. As I step out onto the top floor, I use the keycard to let myself in to Declan’s penthouse room.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he immediately shouts when I walk in, and the gravel in his voice startles me.
“I’m sorry.”
“Where have you been for the past hour?”
He stands across the room as he barks his words at me. Wearing a tailored suit and tie, he looks powerful in his firm stance, and his narrowed eyes and clamped jaw are evidence that he’s beyond pissed.
“Declan, I’m sorry,” I say softly. “Bennett was running late and didn’t leave until now. I got here as soon as I could.”
He begins to make his way over to me, hands clenched in fists to his sides, stating, “I don’t like not knowing where you are. You say four o’clock, you better be in front of me at four o’clock.”
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. If I argue, I’m just gonna piss him off even more. His hand comes out to grip me under my chin. With his face hovering over mine, he admits, “I was worried something happened to you.”
“I’m s-sorry,” I breathe.
Dropping his forehead to mine, he closes his eyes for a moment as he takes in a deep intake of air through his nose. My body jumps when his fingers suddenly pierce into my jaw, and I can feel every bit of tension in his body as he opens his eyes and takes a small step back with my face still in his grip. His eyes are venomous, causing my heart to pound as a small whimper sounds from my throat.
“His smell is all over you,” he seethes in disgust.
“I-I . . .”
“Did you fuck him before you came here?” his voice grinds out from his clenched jaw, but I don’t lie when I whisper on a shaky breath, “Yes.”
His hand falls from my chin as he looks at me in pure anger.
“On the bed,” he barks. “And take that fucking dress off, I don’t want to smell him when I’m fucking you.”
“Declan, please.”
“Get on the fucking bed! NOW!”
The bite to his words has me in a panic, worrying about what he’s going to do, but I don’t hesitate when I start moving across the room and into the bedroom. Quickly removing my dress, I sit on the edge of the bed and wait in the darkness for Declan. It takes him a while, but eventually he appears in the doorway. His shirt is now off, and his slacks hang on his hips with his belt clutched in one hand. The sour taste of bile burns the back of my throat, and I close my eyes, begging, “Declan, please.”
“Don’t talk, Nina.”
I keep my eyes closed out of fear and urge on the disconnect, willing the fire of revenge to consume me so Declan won’t have this power over me. I know he’s right in front of me; I can feel the heat of him soaking into my skin.
“I’m not stupid to think you wouldn’t have sex with that man, but I expect you to come to me clean, do you understand?”
With a quick nod of my head, he snaps, “Answer me!”
“Yes.”
“Open your eyes, and answer me.”
When I open my eyes, I notice the strained muscles in his arms and shoulders as I murmur, “Yes.”
“Were you trying to make me jealous?”
“No,” I quickly blurt out in defense. “I didn’t . . . I didn’t think, Declan. I’m sorry.”
He moves to sit down next to me, saying, “I’m going to punish you now. Not because I want to hurt you, but because I don’t want you to forget.”
“Please,” I say as I shake my head, and when he looks at me, it’s dejection that I see in his eyes.
“I don’t ever want to smell him on you again.”
“I promise.”
“Lay your chest across my lap,” he instructs in an even voice.
I reach my hand over, placing it on his knee, giving it a soft squeeze, before obeying his request and laying myself across his thighs. When I close my eyes, I hear the clank of his metal belt buckle as it hits the floor, and in a few movements, he takes his tie out of his pants pocket, and wraps my wrists in the cool silk, knotting the fabric tightly.
His hand begins to caress my exposed ass in nothing but a lace thong, and then his hand his gone. Tensing up, I wait for the impending strike, and when it finally comes in a merciless slap against my flesh, I yelp out in a bleeding squeal as the pain radiates through my skin.
In the next second comes another vicious blow as he grunts with force.
And another.
Another.
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
“Aaagh,” I cry out in fiery pain. The sting of his firm hand hitting me chokes me up with each punishing slap. My arms strain against his silk tie, and his hands grab my hips, throwing me forcefully on my back, landing in the center of the bed. Smiling cagily at me, exultant in debasing me. Like a raging animal, he rips my panties down my legs, forces my thighs open, and strikes my pussy with an excruciating slap.
I scream out in pain as tears spring to my eyes. His soft tongue is immediately on my now burning flesh, licking me in a slow lap over my seam. The contrast of his touches has a maniacal effect on me, evoking vulnerable whimpers. I feel everything he’s doing, but I’m also outside of my body, no longer in control of any part of me. Emotions take over—fear, pleasure, pain, satisfaction, sadness, comfort. They conflict and collide in a volatile war inside of me, taking me over as I fall powerless to Declan, lying here as he kisses and licks through my folds the same way he does my mouth. He then slips his hand under my back, finding my hand and holding it tightly as my mind begins to swirl in a kaleidoscope of colors and lights, and I give in to the goodness of it all, losing myself as he wraps his mouth around the sensitive bundle of nerves while he pumps his finger inside of me.
To ward off the pleasure in his touch is a doomed feat as I lie here, restrained, weak to everything he’s giving me until I feel the wet heat between my legs as I crash into fragments of pure warmth as it trills through my core and down my limbs. A glittering fire sparking inside of my veins, taking my body captive as I writhe under his touch, our hands clenched together.
All I can think in this moment is that this man is obscene.
He doesn’t give me a chance to gather all the pieces he just broke me into when he jerks me up and pushes me to sit on my heels as he stands on his knees before me. Fisting my hair in each of his hands, he yanks my head back, looks down at me, demanding, “Suck my cock with that sweet mouth of yours,” before forcing my head down, but I take him willingly into my mouth. He doesn’t give me any control as he tugs my hair, bobbing me up and down the length of him. I begin to fight his demanding ways, pushing my head back against his hands, wanting to move more slowly, but he’s much stronger than me with my hands bound behind my back.
“Don’t fight me, Nina,” he grunts, but I want to. I want to fight him and he feels it, yelling in scolding grit, “Yield to me!”
But I don’t and he pulls my hair harder, biting on his sulfurous voice, “Yield to it. Trust me, baby.”
The whisper of his pleading demands seep out through the cracks of his words. He doesn’t know I hear it, but I do, and something about it makes me turn it over to him, giving him the control he so desperately needs for some reason. He moves me along the heat of his large cock as I let my tongue glide along the silky smooth flesh. The sounds spurring from him are nothing but primal lust, and when I feel him thicken in my mouth, he throws me back on the bed, straddles his knees on either side of me, pulling off a couple of hard pumps, right before he shoots his cum onto my stomach and tits. His eyes are pinned to mine as he spreads himself on me while he continues to jerk himself off. I watch him—he’s beautifully brutal with his merciless touch.
He keeps my arms tied behind me as he lies down next to me and pulls me into his hold, hugging me against his strong body. I’m completely vulnerable to him, naked and restrained, but I’m not scared. He punished me, yes, but he’d never really hurt me. He keeps telling me to trust him, and I can at least trust knowing that I’m safe with him, so with my hands bound, my body goes limp, molding to his as he holds on to me.
We lie there together, his cum drying on my skin, as he combs his fingers through my hair, saying, “I only want to smell myself on you,” before he reaches behind me and unknots his tie.
As soon as my hands are free, I sling my arms around his neck, needing the comfort and not quite knowing how to react after what just happened between us. He cradles the back of my head, pressing his lips to my ear, whispering, “I’ve got you, darling.” And when I nod my head against his as I cling to him, he strengthens his hold on me as he breathes into my skin, “I adore you.”
My emotions are all over the place, and I don’t know what to do with the feelings that overcome me. It’s a sickening delight. I hate that he enjoys this with me, that he looks at me the way he does. But I really hate that I can’t escape with him. He doesn’t allow me that freedom and it scares the shit out of me. My heart continues to race as I lie here, and he feels it, keeping me close to him and giving me a soft, “Shhh,” in my ear. He holds me in his arms in a nurturing way, but Declan is far more primal than nurturing, yet somehow he’s able to blur those lines in moments like this.
“I missed you,” he eventually tells me.
“I missed you too,” I sigh. “But he’s gone, so I’m all yours.”
“I don’t just want you to be mine when he’s gone, Nina. I want it all the time.”
“It’s complicated, but I’m here with you, and I just want you now. No Bennett, please,” I urge.
Declan moves to kiss me, keeping his touches soft and affectionate, as we slowly move together. And with his lips against mine, he mumbles, “How are you feeling? Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
“I need you to know that I will always protect you,” he says, his words reminiscent of my father’s when I was younger, and when I pull away to look in Declan’s eyes, I can see the truth behind them.
“I know,” I tell him. “Trust comes hard for me, but I’m trying.”
“Love that.”
I smile at my manipulations as they come so easily with him. It’s like I don’t even have to think or try; I just speak and he’s putty in my hands. Eventually we fall asleep before waking a couple hours later. Declan orders up some food, and I lie, telling him that I need to be home because Bennett wanted to video chat later and he would know if I wasn’t at our place. Declan is frustrated but we agree that we will get together tomorrow and spend these next two weeks together as much as possible. Truth is, I have to go to Pike tonight.
Before I leave, Declan installs an app on my cell phone that will allow us to text without anything being tracked by phone records. His possessive ways make me laugh, but I’m curious to know why he is the way that he is.
IT’S NEARING MIDNIGHT and my stomach is in knots when I pull up to Pike’s trailer. I turn the car off and sit for a moment; the sounds of the sharp wind blowing over the snow-covered ground fill the silence. My nerves keep multiplying the longer I sit here. I’ve known that this day would eventually come, but the realness that it’s finally here pangs in my gut.
When I get out of the car and walk inside the trailer, Pike doesn’t say a word when he comes over to me. My face is stone as I stand there.
“Hey,” he says in a gentle voice.
“Hey.”
“So . . .?”
“So . . .” I begin and then tell him with a nod, “This is it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Pike places his hands hesitantly along my jaw, asking, “So we’re doing this?”
“Yes.” My voice trembles, but I muster up my strength, resisting all the emotions I feel swarming around the two of us.
“Are you scared?”
I nod my head, giving him my honest answer through my hardened façade, and he nods along with me, letting me know I’m not alone, but we both know it’s up to me to pull this off.
“Don’t be scared. Remember what we’re doing this for,” he tells me, his eyes burning with intensity. “This is for your father. This is for you and everything you were stripped of. You wanted a new life; we’re almost there, Elizabeth. Can you taste it? The fairytale?”
“Yeah,” I breathe.
“So we fight the monsters first,” he says and then softly presses his lips to mine, and when he pulls away, I slip off my coat and toss it aside before looking up at Pike, swallowing hard, telling him, “I’m ready.”
“Say it again.”
“I’m ready.”
“Close your eyes,” he instructs, and I do.
I stand here and feel the warmth of Pike’s hand brush down the side of my cheek as he whispers to me, “This is for you,” before taking his comforting hand away.
My heart crashes inside my chest as I wait, and then it comes, Pike’s hard fist barreling into the side of my face and over my eye. A blast of pain singeing across my cheek and down my nose as my body collapses to the floor. Pike then grabs ahold of my wrist, moving my hand that’s covering my eye away from my face and hammers down another powerful fist across my cheek. My screams are strained as I cry them out, and Pike instantly covers my body with his, holding me in his arms and cradling my head against his chest as I cry in agony. My face is hot, tingling as I feel the immediate swelling.
Pike continues to hold me, rocking me back and forth, reminding me over and over why we are doing this, but he doesn’t need to convince me; I know why I’m doing this. As my tears dry, the pounding of an oncoming headache dulls out the piercing throbs down my face.
I don’t even need to say anything when Pike picks me up off the floor and carries me to his bed.
“I’ll be right back,” he says and then walks out of the room, only to return a few moments later with a glass of water and two Tylenol. “Here. Take these.”
Swallowing the pills, I set the glass down and lay my head back on the pillows.
“How bad does it hurt?” Pike asks.
“I have a really bad headache.”
“Your eye?”
“It all hurts, but it’s okay. I don’t want you to feel bad or apologize,” I tell him as he lies down next to me. “How does it look?” I ask.
He reaches out to touch the tender skin, and I flinch back at the pain.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “It’s really swollen and pink right now. It’s starting to bruise. You’ll have a nasty black eye for sure by the time you wake up tomorrow.”
I nod and can’t help the evil smile that creeps along my lips and then turns into laughter. Pike hesitates before allowing his smile to appear, and when I see it, I roll onto my back as my laughter grows louder. Clutching my belly, I feel deranged, like somehow I’m on top of the world, celebrating our devilish game, and basking in the glory of my growing black eye.
The past few years have been spent bonding a marriage to look like nothing other than a happy couple who is completely devoted and in love with one another. It seemed as if getting to this point of destruction would never come, but here it is in the grasp of our fingertips. And now the emotions of stress, loneliness, doubt, and determination come to fruition as they spill out of me in this crazy display of morbid laughter.
When we start to calm down and compose ourselves, I roll over to face Pike, asking, “Am I crazy?”
“Aren’t we all a little crazy?”
Smiling, I say, “A simple no would suffice.”
“No.”
I straighten my expression, and when Pike turns his head to look at me, I remind him, “I love you.”
“I know you do.”
“No,” I say. “You’ve never wavered on me. After all these years, you’ve always been my constant, from the moment we met when I was eight years old. You’re the best brother anyone could ever have, and I really love you.”
Turning on his side, his fingers feather along my swollen cheekbone as he leans in and kisses me, running his tongue along my bottom lip. I pull him in closer, tangling my legs with his as he shifts on top of me. We begin to undress each other, and I’m ready to take what only Pike has been able to give me. Moving my naked body with his, I reach down to grab his hardened dick and then guide it inside of me. And finally, I’m able to escape from everything around me.
WAKING UP IN my bed the next morning, the side of my face throbs in heated rhythm with my heartbeat. I haven’t put ice on it to help with the swelling because I need it to look as bad as possible. I know Pike felt like shit last night after hitting me the way he did—the way he had to—but I tried assuring him that I’m okay.
As I walk across the room and into the bathroom, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Pike was right, there’s a nasty black and blue bruise around my eye and along the crest of my cheek. I reach up to touch the swollen flesh and wince. The bruise is tender and the side of my face looks horrific.
It’s perfect.
I go ahead and take a quick shower and get dressed, slipping on a pair of jeans and a long cashmere sweater, dabbing on just a light touch of powder and lipgloss. The chime of my phone comes as I expected with Declan’s text.
Miss you.
I type my response.
Miss you too.
Come to my place. I need to touch you.
My devious smile grows while I type out my next text.
I can’t. I’m not feeling well.
You okay?
Just sick.
I’ll come pick you up and bring you here.
He responds just as I predicted, so I continue to goad him to me with my replies.
Thanks, but I’m just going to stay here today.
You avoiding me?
No. I just don’t feel good.
Then let me take care of you.
As I’m typing out my next text, the phone begins ringing in my hand, displaying Declan’s name on the screen.
“Why are you calling me?” I ask when I answer.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m not. I told you; I’m not feeling well.”
“So instead of lying in your bed, lie in my bed. I’m coming to pick you up. Pack a bag,” he insists in a calm tone, but I resist, telling him, “Declan, no.”
He lets go of a sigh and then questions, “What’s going on?”
I pause, and with an uneven voice, lacking confidence, I murmur, “Nothing. Just . . . just nothing.”
“You’re lying to me.”
“Declan, please.”
“I’m on my way,” he snaps, hanging up before I can respond.
He’ll be here shortly, and I’ve no time to waste getting excited. I have to look the part, so I focus my attention on the one thing that always destroys me—my dad. I sit on one of the couches in the living room, stare out at the grey, snow-filled day, and let my mind drift to him, to my childhood, to everything that hurts me. I think about pink daisies, and the feel of my father’s whiskers poking me with his kisses. And then I think about the first time I went to his grave, coming face to face with the reality that he was really dead.
After a while, I’m not even thinking about Declan. I’m solely consumed with pain and sadness as I cry into my hands. My throat knots as the misery takes over, but the jerk of reality comes when the house phone rings, and I know Declan is here.
“Hello?” I say when I answer the call.
“Mrs. Vanderwal, this is Manuel. I have a Mr. McKinnon here to see you.”
“Um, yes. Go ahead and send him up, please.”
“Will do. Good day, miss.”
I hang up the phone as a few more tears seep out, and I let them linger on my skin as I wait for the knock, and when it comes, I look at my splotchy face, bloodshot eyes, and bruises in the hallway mirror before walking over, ducking my head down, and slowly inching the door open, saying, “Declan, you shouldn’t be here.”
“Let me in, Nina.”
Turning my face away from him, I walk into the living room as he follows from behind.
“What’s going on?” he questions, and when I don’t respond, he grabs my arm and turns me around. “Fucking Christ,” he says with a horrified look on his face when he sees my black eye. “What the hell happened?”
Covering my face with my hands, I begin to cry again. It’s easy to do with my current state of mind. He doesn’t miss a beat when he pulls me into his arms and holds me while I quietly weep, wetting his shirt with my tears.
“Darling, what happened?”
“Bennett was here when I got home last night,” I lie.
Gripping my shoulders, he pulls away to look down at me, his eyes filled with venom when he asks, “He did this?”
The tears drip off my chin, and I slowly nod as I watch his face turn to pure rage, his grip on my arms tightening.
“I’m gonna fucking kill that bastard,” he growls. “Go pack your bags. You’re coming with me.”
“Declan—”
“Now, Nina. I can’t even fuckin’ think straight. Go pack your shit. You’re not staying here,” he snaps, and I don’t say anything else when I turn to walk into my bedroom and to my closet. I begin to quickly pack my bags, and as I walk back out, Declan is pacing the room. When he looks up at me, he rushes over, takes the bags out of my hands, and tucks me under his arm.
“Where’s your coat?” he quietly asks, and when I point to the foyer closet, he wastes no time. He pulls out my coat, slips it over my arms, and then hands me my purse. I quickly put my sunglasses on before we walk out the door.
He doesn’t speak as we take the elevator down and head outside to his car. He tosses the bags in the trunk and then we are on our way to his place. His grip on the steering wheel is firm, knuckles white, muscles flexed. With his focus on the road, I watch his jaw clenching as he grinds his teeth.
When we finally make it to his place, his silence remains as we walk into his loft. With my hand in his, he leads me back to his bedroom. Tossing my bags onto the floor, he sits me down on his bed and gently removes my sunglasses. His eyes look over my face, examining my swollen cheek and black eye. I flinch when he touches it, and he whispers a quick apology before reaffirming, “I’m serious, Nina. I want to kill him for doing this to you.”
“It’s not that bad,” I mumble as I drop my head.
“Have you fuckin’ seen your face?! It’s pretty fuckin’ bad!” He takes a moment and a few deep breaths before softening his voice, “I’m sorry. I don’t want to yell at you. Just . . . Why don’t you lie down? I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Okay.”
Declan leaves the room, and when he returns with an ice pack, he takes a seat next to me on the bed where I’m lying down and gently places it over the side of my face. Wincing at the contact, I close my eyes and place my hand over his as he holds it in place.
“Tell me what happened,” he whispers as he looks down at me.
“When I got home last night, he was there. I had told him that I was spending the afternoon with a friend, but he found out I was lying and delayed his flight until early this morning,” I explain, and when a few tears seep out and roll down my temples, I continue, “He was mad, and just . . .”
“Hit you?”
I nod, and he asks, “He’s done this before?”
When I nod again I see the muscles in his neck strain. Sitting up, I lean back against the headboard and begin to cry, telling him, “I’m so scared, Declan. If he ever found out about us, I don’t—”
“He won’t find out,” he jumps in.
“He could.”
“He won’t.”
“He’s not what people think.”
“How long has this been going on?” he asks.
“Shortly after we married. It didn’t start out so bad, but now . . .”
“Come here,” he says as he shifts to my side and drapes his arm around me, drawing me into his hold. He kisses the top of my head before saying, “I can’t let you go back to him.”
“I have to.”
“You don’t have to do anything, Nina.”
“It’s not that simple. I’m terrified of what he’ll do because he’s capable of anything,” I tell him as the remaining tears roll down my face. “This black eye is minor compared to . . .”
“To what? Christ, Nina, it looks like someone beat the shit out of you with a fucking bat. You have no idea what I want to do to that fucker right now. Just thinking about him having his hands on you is paralyzing.”
The rage in his voice is unyielding, and his eyes are dilated in fury.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see—”
“You? The real you?” He closes his eyes for a second, pinching the bridge of his nose, and then looks at me with sincerity. “Don’t ever hide from me. Not a single goddamn thing.”
I don’t respond, but he isn’t waiting for me to when he wraps his arm around my waist and shifts us down into the sheets. My eyes close as he drops delicate kisses on my battered cheek and over my eye. With his lips against my skin, he breathes his words, saying, “It kills me to know this about you.”
“I don’t want you to hurt for me.”
“I’ll always hurt for you. I want to hurt for you, to take it away from you so that I can bear it for the both of us,” he whispers and then seals his lips with mine in a passionate kiss. But he can’t take my pain away. Nobody can. Pike tries, but it never lasts longer than a brief moment. My pain is threaded within the fibers of my existence. Here to stay. A reminder that we all come in different forms of decrepit.
