Page 16 of Finding English

Chapter 7

Cassie leaned her head back on the headrest of the cab, happiness infused with the light buzz of Henry’s kiss. Her swollen lips still ached in a delicious and sensual tingle. When they’d got back to the truck, he had kissed her again but pulled away when her hand went to his zipper.

She loved that he wanted to wait, to take things at her pace. If she were honest, that pace at this moment was to rip his clothes off as fast as she could, but Cassie knew in the bright light of day she’d be glad they weren’t rushing things.

Cassie had so much she needed to tell him before she could take that step and give him her body. She knew she was falling for him, how could she not? He was everything she wanted in a man, and that was terrifying too. If she let herself love him, and he left, not only could she end up with a broken heart, but so could Micky and she wouldn’t allow that to happen.

“Get out of your head.”

She turned at the sound of his voice and found Henry watching her as he maneuvered the vehicle with ease. He reached for her hand, entwining his fingers with hers before bringing them to his lips and kissing her knuckles.

“I can’t help it. It’s not just me I have to worry about now. If it were, I’d jump with both feet, but I have Michaela to think about.”

“I promise you, Cass, I won’t hurt you or Michaela. That little girl already has a piece of me.”

Cassie’s heart tripped over in her chest at his words. She wanted that more than anything for her child—to find a man who would love Mic as much as she did and be the father she deserved.

“Is that what you pictured for yourself? A ready-made family?”

Henry rounded the corner in the little cul-de-sac, and she watched him shake his head and offer her a tiny grin. “I never gave it much thought at all. Not until you and then I just knew I wanted you, that you were important and meeting Michaela only intensified that. I don’t have the words to explain it, Cassie, but you and Micky, you feel like you’re mine, like you always have been or should’ve been.”

Cassie didn’t know what to say to that, the words were so beautiful, and exactly what she needed to hear from him. “I feel the same way, but there’s so much we don’t know about each other.”

“I know, but we can learn and share our pasts, it’s our future that counts.”

“But our pasts shape who we are.”

Henry pulled up outside her home and put the truck into park before turning to face her fully, wrapping her hand in his much bigger ones. “They shaped us, yes but they don’t define us. We aren’t what has happened to us, we’re our own people. Things leave scars. God knows I’ve seen more than I wanted to in my job, but we get to choose if experiences break us or not.” He looked into her eyes then, lifting his hand to stroke his thumb over her cheek, brushing her lip. “I know you have secrets.”

Cassie tensed and tried to pull her hand away from him, but he held tight.

“Don’t do that, Cassie. I know you have secrets and when you’re ready I hope you’ll share them with me but only when you’re ready.”

Cassie relaxed again, fighting the instinct to run. “I will one day, but not tonight. Tonight I want you to come in, make out with me on my couch, and hold me.”

His sexy grin lit up his gray eyes. “That I can do.”

With a final kiss to her hand, Henry jumped from the car, rounding the front to help her down from the cab, wrapping her in his arms as he walked to the door.

He took her key, and as she turned to speak to him, she caught the unmistakable scent of White Angel perfume, and her stomach roiled, her step faltered.

Memories swamped her mind, wrapping her in a blanket of pain and terror. So much fear and grief, she could hardly catch her breath. She grasped for Henry’s hand, seeing the worry on his face, she could see his lips were moving but all she could hear were screams and horrific masculine laughter.

“Cassie, Jesus, what is it?”

Henry’s voice was like a beacon forcing its way through the fog of terror that held her in its grip. She battled against the memory, trying to anchor herself to the present, her breaths coming in big gulps.

Henry opened the door and practically carried her inside, moving her toward the living room.

“I need to lie down.” Her voice was weak and throaty as she fought the nausea rolling in her belly. The scent of the perfume was becoming more potent, burning her lungs as she fought the memories. Her legs not able to carry her, Henry swung her into his powerful arms.

Cassie held tight, burying her head in his neck, breathing in his aftershave, concentrating only on him and this moment. His touch, his scent, his voice the only thing keeping her grounded. She wanted to explain, to tell him what was happening, the worry on his face another mark against her.

Henry kicked open the door with his boot, and she lifted her head, and when she saw it, she realized this wasn’t merely a trick her mind was playing on her. He was here, he’d come for her. The silk scarf on her bed was the exact same one stolen from her mother’s body on the night a serial killer had walked inside her childhood home and slaughtered everyone she loved.

“No, no, no.” Leg’s kicking out, hands flailing wildly she fought to get away from the offending item. Terror like she hadn’t known since that night saturated her every cell, soaking her body with the putrid evil. “He’s here. He’s here.”

Henry backed out of the room and walked with her still in his arms to his vehicle. Opening the door, he slid her in the back and jumped in beside her, pulling her into his arms. He held her tight, his hand on her head as she burrowed into his chest, needing his strength more than she needed to breathe.