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He’s fucking dead. I’m going to enjoy torturing him. See, one thing I learned from the Army, is how to make even the toughest piece of shit piss his pants. I’d love to watch that self-righteous asshole cry out in agony as I tie up his neck and bash his face into a wall over and over until he begs for mercy. But would I stop? Hell no. I bet he didn’t stop when she begged him. We’ll see how he likes it.
The moment I saw her bruised and battered, she became important to me. I have to help her get out of this relationship before it’s too late. If she’s anything like my mother, she won’t want the police involved. But if she does nothing, he’s going to keep hurting her. That’s a fact. I intend to talk to her about it tomorrow, because the next time she may not come out of this breathing.
I make my way back to the bedroom and knock gently. “May I come in? I got your ahh—water.” As she opens the door, the sight of her in my shirt brings me to my knees. That gentleman I thought I was five minutes ago has turned into a starving beast. I hunch over a little, hiding what I know is a growing erection.
The shirt is so massive, it swallows her, stopping by her mid-thigh. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I look up, trying desperately to avoid looking at her smooth legs or the apex of her thighs.
My eyes hold hers hostage. She’s so beautiful, even with her makeup smeared all over. I take a deep breath, trying to get some control back. “Umm, do you need pajama pants or anything? You know, in case you’re cold?”
She smooths my shirt down, avoiding my gaze. “I have shorts on under here. I’ll be okay.”
“Alright then, I’ll just grab some clothes and then I’ll be out of your hair.” I move toward the dresser and take out a T-shirt and sweatpants. “If you need anything at all, just wake me up, all right?” Yeah, I definitely need to get out of here before I get a case of blue balls.
She looks up at me then, tears in her eyes.Ah, damn it.I can’t watch this woman cry, not without being ripped apart. I move in close, erasing the space between us.
“Hey, hey, what are those for, huh?” I catch every tear that manages to escape and wrap her in my arms.
“You’re just so nice to me,” she grips my shirt, her forehead against my chest, “and I gave you the finger. Twice.”
I chuckle, needing to make her smile. “Don’t worry, I know that’s your way of telling me you like me.” She stills, then pulls back just enough to look at me. She weaves our hands together while her eyes trace every inch of my face. My smile melts away under the intensity.
“You’ve been so kind to me when you don’t even know me. I’m grateful.” She looks down at our hands, biting her lip. “And yes, maybe if I was someone else, someone not tethered to this life, I’d let myself fall for you, freely and completely. But I’m not. I can’t fall for you.” She closes her eyes, pain carved on her face. “You’re a good person. You’ll make someone really happy someday.”
My muscles go tight, her words slamming hard into my chest. If she only knew how unlikely that is. But I don’t say a word, she has plenty on her plate without needing to hear my life story.
Her tiny hands drift away until I’m empty. The sensation of her touch is still there, torturing me. My body wants her back. Well too bad, because she isn’t mine.
“I’ll let you get some rest. I’ve bothered you enough for one day,” she says.
“You’re not a bother. Plus, I knocked onyourdoor, remember?” Smiling, I try to lighten the mood. She tucks her hair behind her ear and shrugs. “Get some rest. I’ll be right out there.” I point to the living room. She nods and I close the door behind me.
I change my clothes, then grab a pillow and an extra comforter from the hallway closet and make myself comfortable on the couch. But I spend all that time wishing I was in bed with her. It’s like my mind’s playing a game of hot or cold. One second I want her, and the other second, I’m terrified. Terrified that if I have her, I’ll hurt her like that asshole has.
I’ve never allowed myself to get close to a woman before. I didn’t want to find out if being an abusive asshole is genetic, so I always played it safe. But she makes me want to question everything. What if I’m different? I feel this need to protect her, even though I don’t even know her. That must count for something. But is it worth the risk?
I toss and turn for an hour, not used to sleeping out here. Getting up, I grab something to drink. When I near the bedroom door, her muffled cries bring a fresh slice of agony to my chest. They’re like a spear poking at my heart. I gently knock on the door. “Hey, I just—I’m sorry I should leave you alone.”
“Don’t go,” she sniffles, sitting up just as I open the door. “I’m scared to sleep alone. Every time I try, my mind races with horrible thoughts.” Her tears grow heavier, like a monsoon in the jungle. “Ahh, why can’t I stop crying?!” She grabs the hem of my T-shirt and balls it in her fists, exposing more of her tanned, lean legs. I grind my teeth to control my attraction to her.
I come inside and sit on the edge of the bed. “Do you want me to stay?” Blue balls can go fuck themselves.
“Yes.” Her voice is so low I barely hear it.
“Then I’ll stay.” She moves over to make room for me and I slide onto the bed with her, the heat of her body moving closer to mine, only mere inches separate us now. Her back is to me and her heavy breaths match mine. I discreetly adjust my pants, the erection straining to get out.
Before I know what I’m doing, my fingertips trace her arm. Her soft skin is so intoxicating. How could anyone want to destroy all this? Her sigh just encourages me more.
Moving my hand up into her hair, I work her scalp. She lets out a little moan and I clear my throat. I should stop but I don’t want to. I’d do anything to make her feel better, even when it causes me misery.
She scoots closer. Unease rolls through me like an intense, dark wave. “Lilah…”
A sigh escapes her. “Sorry. I’ll move.”
I wrap my arm tightly around her instead, not giving a shit how hard this is for me. “Come closer.” My dick can fuck off right now. She needs someone and hell if I’d let that be anyone else.
She doesn’t hesitate, not even for a second. I don’t know how she has faith in a stranger when she was just hurt by someone who's supposed to love her. My heart swells with admiration. She’s braver than I ever could be.
All I want to do is capture every ounce of her pain and burn it to the ground. She deserves so much better than this, just like my mother did. I refuse to stand by and let history repeat itself.
