Page 130 of Enemies with Benefits


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Christopher took something from me. He stole my trust. Tore down my self-esteem. Made me feel not good enough. That night in the bedroom we once shared, he also saved my life. Guilt and regret are a heavy weight to carry. Rebecca shot that gun, intending to kill me. Christopher stood in its path to allow me to live a better life—one he failed to give me. I never got the chance to thank him.

Two people died that day. Something that I will carry for the rest of my life. I was lucky I walked away. Well. . . more like limped. My journey to recovery was less extensive, but it still sucked. Taking those hits from the golf club earned me three fractured ribs and bruises covering a third of my body. Breathing was the hardest part for a while. You never realize how much you take the littlest things for granted until every breath digs into your ribs—and let’s not talk about coughing. I swore I punctured a lung every two seconds, which sent Ben into a frenzy.

Speaking of my sweet, grumpy, protective Ben, there’s nothing sexier than seeing a grown man cry. When he lost it in front of me that night in the hospital, it confirmed what I already knew. He is my forever. My savior. The man I’ll spend the rest of my existence loving. He’s the person I’m meant for. Who knew when Ben Wallace came into my life, he would one day bring such intense love and happiness into my world.

I was released from the hospital after three days, and we immediately started making plans. The insurance company not only came back to tell me they determined the house fire to be from arson, but a large insurance payout was granted. As expected, my father didn’t have any insurance. But my mother did. I stared down at the dated paperwork, her beautiful signature on the forms. At some point, she must have set it up without him knowing. Even from her grave, she was looking out for me.

The payment I received almost knocked me off my feet. The money meant nothing to me. I would have rather taken the memories of my mother that burned that day. But at least I had the means to do right by her. After paying off the remaining debt on the house, I kept enough to replace my things, then wrote a large check to the local shelter for battered and abused women. My mother endured so much from the hands and mouth of the man she vowed to love and lost her life because of it.

Ben reconnected with his mom, and years of regret and resentment started washing clean. Aunt Karen came out for a few days and finally met the infamous Ben Wallace. I think she spent more time swooning over him than anything. But she loved Patricia more. You’d think those two were long-lost best friends the way they chatted and laughed. I’m pretty sure the real reason she’s coming back for a visit so soon is not me. Maybe Ben. Definitely her new bestie.

After the incident, everyone came together and rallied around us. Chase, I learned, is also a crier. When he heard the news, he almost took out a nurse, fearing Ben had been hurt. He tackled him, hugging him to the ground.

The only downfall was how clingy Ben became. I love him with all my soul, but damn, can he be overprotective. I broke some ribs, it’s not like my arms and legs were sawed off. He took a leave at work, which I strictly told him not to, and watched over my every move.

I highly doubted bathing me was so I wouldn’t reinjure myself. Not that I minded. He was very thorough. A little rubbing here, a little washy-washy there. One thing led to another, and let me tell you, fractured ribs and orgasms don’t mix. A very pale and angry Ben and I ended up back in the ER, scared I had popped a rib out of place.

After everything settled, Ben’s friend Steve filled us in on what they’d learned about Rebecca. From the disturbing wall of hate she had in her apartment to her scheme to get to me by pretending to house sit next door.

I lost it when he told me about the Fergusons. I cried so much, Ben had to give me a sedative to calm me down. Rebecca indeed rang their doorbell—two days before I returned home. They let her in the house and offered her something to eat while she made a phone call. She took advantage of their kindness and held them captive in their home while she set out to destroy me. When they searched the house that night, they found the frail couple tied up in the basement, barely breathing. She’d been feeding them minimally. Mr. Ferguson suffered a heart attack when they rescued him. Thankfully, he’s going to be okay.

As for our house venture, we just realized we needed more space. Likewaymore. For one, we were running out of places to have hot, wild sex. The table wasn’t big enough. The kitchen counters weren’t deep enough. And his shower definitely wasn’t large enough. But more importantly, we wanted to find a home for our future. So, we upgraded to a beautiful two-story, four-bedroom. It had potential. It had purpose. One day, it would be filled with a family, children, and a dog. Apparently, Ben sees way too many cats at his job. This home would have so much love, we’d need to add an addition on the back. And the front. Maybe a third floor?

I can’t help but chuckle. Once upon a time, I met a boy, and he became my worst enemy. My nemesis. And now, I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him. It’s crazy how life works out.

I bend down and attempt to lift the box when I hear the sound of the front door opening. If I hurry and open the window, I can probably throw it out and land perfectly in one of the dump—

“What the hell are you doing? Seriously?” I drop the box. Guess this one’s staying. “I told you not to do this without me. This shit is too heavy,” he snaps, taking in the packaged boxes. I look at him, proud of what I’ve accomplished today.

“You’re right. Can you throw this box out—?”

“Don’t even think about it. Mak, you told me you weren’t going to overdo it.”

“I didn’t. It’s just clothes. The extra bedding. All your books and—”

“Mak. . .”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. See?” I twirl around, and dammit, I twist too quickly and aggravate a rib. I wish these would just go back to normal.

“Shit, you okay?” He comes up to me, bracing his hands on my hips. “Did you hurt yourself? I told you to take it easy. You promised me—”

“Right, I promised I’d take it easy. This was a cakewalk. My ribs aren’t sore from packing.”

His eyes blaze with concern. “What? Where does it hurt?”

“Oh, you know where it hurts.” Confusion crosses his face. “You’re so worried about me packing a few measly boxes, but you sure didn’t seem to care when you were ramming me into the headboard.”

His brow furrows. “You told me you were fine. Dammit, I should have known you were lying.”

“Luckily, you did. If you hadn’t, I would have found someone el—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Do and you’ll regret it.”

Not with the way his eyes light up. His feral need to claim me. Make sure the world knows who I belong to. Goddamn, it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced.

I bring my lower lip between my teeth. “Oh, will I?”

“Damn right, you will.”

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