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There was a pause, then she finally said, “I’ve never been free, Duke.” Her voice became strained. “I’ve been taken from one cage to the next. Since my schooling was practically non-existent, Lorenzo got me a tutor, and I learned a lot from books, but on personal levels, I’m still… I’m… still not sure of anything.”
I couldn’t stop myself. I had to touch her. To not spook her, my hand slowly found hers. I internally sighed when she grabbed mine and held tight.
“Elle, I’d be lying if I said I understood, but I’m not lying when I say I’m doing my best to give you space and a choice with every move you make.”
A little sob escaped her before she admitted, “You’re the first to ever do so.”
Elle being a victim of the sex trade, I was positive there would be no sexual firsts between me and her, but to be the first one to give her a choice was fucking spectacular.
And raw.
“Duke?”
“Yeah?”
“Tonight was my very first kiss.”
Make that two firsts.
She whispered, “It was wonderful.”
“Babe, you ain’t lyin’. I’ve kissed many girls but can’t remember a damn one after kissing you.”
She gasped, then snuggled closer to me.
Chapter fourteen
Holding Freedom
Lynx
Being her first kiss was the innocent act we both needed because the other side of us to come was sometimes full of crippling emotions. But we had to hold on to those, too. They were part of us. Our past, present, and future. So that’s what we did. Daringly. Setting fire to our lives and attempting to leave pasts in the smoking trail of our wake. It’s just that sometimes the smoky trail was due to fear, confusion, and the result of years of abuse. Her anger, or the knowledge it was truly over, wasn’t always enough to spare her mind.
Groggy from the pill Elle had given me, and not having enough time to sleep it off, I slowly came to when I heard Pops saying, “What’s up your ass, Girly-Girl?”
Whatever triggered her while I slept, it was no joke. Elle was pacing, roughly tying back her long hair in a messy ponytail. “I have to go.” She was in a long-sleeved grey cotton shirt and loose jeans that a club girl had donated to her.
I tried to sit up, slowly sliding my legs over the edge of the bed. “Babe, what are you talkin’ about?”
Dagger, with a knowing expression, stayed quiet, leaning against the bedroom wall.
Vice was next to Pops, dumbfounded, while saying, “But, Elle, I thought you decided to stay with my man.”
Ignoring me and Vice, her green eyes were manic as she darted to a small table. She proceeded to shove her gold jewelry into her pockets. “I’m not doing this Stockholm syndrome bullshit.”
Pops chuckled. “I think you’re a little confused about how that works.” He nor Dagger seemed fazed in the slightest that she was changing her mind.
Now acting like a caged animal, she spun on her toes and faced Pops. “Don’t you start with me, chancer.”—someone who takes risks. “You’re too old to not see what’s happening here.”
With a smirk, he admitted, “I’m too old not to know I don’t know everything. So, fill me in. Tell me what’s happening here.”
She stomped her bare foot and pointed at me. “I’m using your son.”
“Is that so?” he sing-songed in an amused manner.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Elle yanked her hair from the perfectly fine ponytail, only to immediately pull it in another. “There’s no way your son could mean this much to me in less than twenty-four hours.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest at hearing how she felt about me. I reached out. “Aw, babe. Come here.”
