Chapter Eighty-Five
Georgia
I watched the dawn chase the night, but the sunrise didn’t bring a new day.
A SEAL, a warrior, and the most stunning man I had ever laid eyes on quietly slept next to me. From his thick, muscled thighs, to the impossible size of his hard length, to his giant biceps and consuming presence even when he was lying down, everything about him was larger than life.
No man should look that dominant and that beautiful in his sleep.
But he did.
Even with his breathing slow and steady and his body at rest, he was a storm waiting to be unleashed. His gun was within reach on the nightstand. His muscles were rigid and defined. The angles of his face held his impenetrable expression. It was as if he were untouched by the vulnerability of sleep, and I hadn’t fully understood it before now.
This man was truly born for battle.
He was, and always would be, a warrior first.
He even fucked like he was mission and duty bound to conquer. And that part of him was perfect. I never wanted him to change that or tone it down. In fact, every rough, unforgiving, uncompromising inch of him was perfect. He was a true hero. So much more so than my father or grandfather that it felt disrespectful to Blade to even think the comparison.
But I was.
Because that’s where he wasn’t perfect.
Not for me.
And not for my heart.
I would never be this SEAL’s priority—not that he would ever offer.
I remembered what he’d said two years ago. His here and now comment was embedded in every memory I had of him. I also knew exactly what he’d really been telling me last night when he’d said he had a life and to go live mine.
Then he’d pulled away before I could kiss him.
Blade didn’t want me. Not how I wanted him, and I’d be lying to myself, not to mention unduly dishing out stupidly cruel punishment, if I allowed even a second’s worth of hope to slide past my defenses.
Not one thing had changed about him in two years, and I was glad for that. Thankful, actually. Last night had been… soul changing. I got to feel unbroken. I got to feel him. I got to just feel, period, without having to escape into nothingness. I had a Valhalla warrior to thank for that. But now I needed to leave, and I needed to do it before he woke up and that ice-blue stare of his landed on me, because if I saw it, I would shatter into a million irretrievable pieces.
And that, I couldn’t handle.
My heart wouldn’t survive another loss. No, not just another loss, but the loss. The only person who I felt had ever given a damn about me just for me. I would not survive losing him, so I wasn’t going to allow myself another second to foolishly think I ever had him.
Because I didn’t.
He said he couldn’t tame me, but he had it backwards.
No one tamed a Valhalla warrior.
So I closed my eyes and moved.
As slow as I possibly could, praying, praying I didn’t wake him, not daring to take a breath for fear he would hear it, I slid off the bed.
Then I pretended I had an ounce of his stealth and tiptoed to the clothes I didn’t buy.
With exaggeratedly deliberate movements, feeling the aftereffects of every one of his hard thrusts from last night, I slowly pulled the leggings up. Grabbing my damp bra and thong that he’d retrieved from the shower at some point in the middle of the night and draped over a chair, I shoved them into my purse. Then I put on a new tank and threaded my arms through the new hoodie. With my heart pounding so loud, I could hear it in my ears, I shouldered my purse, picked up the new Uggs, and tiptoed to the door.
I knew once I opened it, my attempt at being stealth would be over.
But I didn’t have to look at him.
I didn’t have to talk to him.
All I needed to do was walk out.
I’d figure out the rest later.
I had a cell.
I remembered that attorney’s name.
I’d hitchhiked before.
I still had my wallet and bank card.
I’d been in way worse situations.
Every sunset was a sunrise waiting to happen.
I had this.
I was an island.
I was always an island.
Fighting tears, I reached for the door, but then I made a horrible mistake.
I looked back.
Blade was sitting up in the bed, and though he was leaning casually against the headboard, there was nothing casual in his ruthless stare that was pinned on me.
“You’re awake.” I hadn’t even heard him move.
“Walk of shame?”
Deeper than usual, accusatory, combative, his voice coated me in shame, need, and want as old wounds ripped open. I wanted to run to him and beg forgiveness as much as I wanted to flee this room. But most of all, I wanted that tone gone from his voice. I wanted last night. I wanted him to tell me I was a good girl. I wanted to hear his “That’s right , almost there , wait for it, woman. Wait.” I wanted to hear all of it. I wanted to feel it, feel him, inhale his scent, and breathe in his controlling dominance.
But I wasn’t seventeen, and he wasn’t an abusive, narcissistic drug addict.
Blade deserved more than a broken woman.
“I—”
An envelope slid under the door.
Blade was on his feet, gun in hand, faster than I could draw my next breath.
“Fall back,” he ordered, inserting himself between me and my escape.
I retreated two paces as a naked warrior positioned himself to the left of the doorframe.
Then he quickly checked to make sure I was out of the line of sight before he cracked the door, weapon drawn.
I heard a male voice from the hall. “Morning.”
“Wait.” Blade shut the door, dropped his arm, and strode across the room in a magnificent display of hardened warrior that had already ruined me for all other men.
Stepping into his new pants sans boxers, unapologetically tucking his semihard erection to the side, he zipped up without ever letting go of his gun.
Then he strode back to the door and shoved his 9mm into his waistband before picking up the envelope.
Without looking at me or inside the envelope, he opened the door and held it.
Superman walked in with his messenger bag slung across his body. He tipped his chin at Blade, then smiled at me. “Good morning, Miss Lyons.”
Suddenly giving a shit about my hair and the fact that Blade was half dressed, I barely made eye contact. “Morning.”
The attorney looked back at Blade, but Blade was staring at me.
“I called you twice before I came by.”
Blade didn’t take his eyes off me. “She was asleep.”
“Understood.”
“Sitrep,” Blade demanded of the attorney.
“We’ve made good progress.” He nodded toward the envelope still in Blade’s hand. “With a little help from November, everything you asked for has been expedited.” He lifted the strap of his bag over his head, and his biceps stretched the confines of his dress shirt. “She has everything she needs for right now, and if I can get a few signatures from her, I’ll finish the filings and complete the rest.”
“Timeframe?” Blade asked aggressively.
“Hopefully within a week.”
“The house?”
“Cleared.”
“Chatter?”
“Controlled.”
Blade nodded once and handed me the envelope. “Sign his papers with your legal name.”
Dropping my new pink Uggs, I took the envelope and shoved it into my purse. When I glanced up, both men were staring at me, but it was the attorney who spoke.
“This won’t take long.” He unfolded the top of his messenger bag and withdrew a stack of paperwork. “I’ve highlighted where you need to sign.” He grabbed a pen from a neatly organized row of them tucked into a sewn-in compartment of the bag that looked like it was made for them.
I’d never had anything that organized in my entire life.
The attorney, who really might be Superman, rattled off a list as he walked over to the small coffee table in front of the love seat and set the papers down. “I have the deed transfer, the trust distribution, and your divorce paperwork. I’ve already filed a motion to waive the waiting period based on the extenuating circumstances.”
How did you divorce a dead man? “Extenuating circumstances?”
The attorney glanced at Blade.
Blade didn’t acknowledge him.
The attorney gestured toward the small couch. “Why don’t you have a seat.”
I sat.
The attorney perched on the arm of the sofa across from me and leaned his elbows on his knees before clasping his hands. “I don’t mean to distress you or cause a repeat of last night, but we didn’t finish discussing it. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t revisit the topic once more and ask.” He paused.
Blade said nothing.
Holding my breath, hoping it wasn’t what I thought it was, I didn’t speak either.
The attorney continued. “There are police reports and hospital records from seven years ago.”
Yeah, exactly what I didn’t want to talk about.
The attorney raised an eyebrow. “Do you wish to discuss any of the incidents, particularly the charges that were never filed against the other men on the night of your nuptials?”
A shame I would never be able to wash off coated my skin and added to the growing list of reasons why I would never be good enough for a man like Blade even though he said two years ago had meant something. I wasn’t stupid. Sex could be good—great, even—but that didn’t mean a man wanted to build a relationship around it. And he didn’t ask me to stay when he saw me leaving. He didn’t even tell me to stop.
He called it the walk of shame.
Humiliation burned in my stomach, and I glanced at the attorney, but I had nothing more to say.
“Understood.” The attorney nodded like I’d agreed to something. “Normally, under these circumstances, AES prefers to expunge all records, digital or otherwise, of the victim, perpetrators, and their operatives. However, in this instance, with several counts of assault, in order to expedite the process and petition the mandatory waiting period on divorce, I’ve advised AES and Blade to leave the remaining evidence of abuse in place.”
Horrified that Blade was listening to all of this, every second of last night now feeling tainted by who I really was, I wanted to lash out. At the attorney, at myself, at the world, at every person in my life who was supposed to protect me but didn’t. I wanted to tell them all to go fuck themselves.
Instead, I lied. “I wasn’t abused.”
The attorney’s voice became the kind of quiet I never wanted to hear. “I’m not a psychologist, medical professional, or any kind of expert on domestic violence.” He paused like this was some sort of made-for-TV movie. “But I’ve seen the evidence, Miss Lyons.”
I stood.
Blade spoke up. “Show her where to fucking sign.”
“Of course.” The attorney, who no longer looked like Superman to me, handed over a pen.
Dropping my purse on the couch, I took it and sat back down.
For the next two minutes, the attorney dutifully pointed everywhere there was a little Post-it note.
I silently signed all his paperwork, but I didn’t read any of it.
When we were done, Mr. Barrett shuffled the papers to straighten them, then put them in his bag before he glanced at me. “Do you have any questions?”
I shook my head.
He held out a business card. “If you need anything else, let me know.”
Blade intercepted the card and dropped it on the coffee table. “She won’t.”
Ignoring the SEAL, the attorney addressed me. “You’ll hear from me within a week. Call anytime.” He shouldered his messenger bag and nodded at Blade before opening the door.
Impulsive, desperate, and feeling like the walls were closing in, I stood. “Mr. Barrett, can you please give me a ride?”
The attorney glanced back at Blade before looking at me. “Of course.”
Blade’s jaw ticked. “Give us a minute.”
“I don’t need a minute.” Every cell in my body was screaming at me not to do this, but I was already moving. “I just need to put on my boots.” I shouldered my bag, grabbed my new Uggs and shoved my feet into them. “I’m ready.”
“All right.” The attorney briefly glanced again at Blade before looking back at me. “I’m parked in the lot. Give me a head start to pull the car around to the front entrance.”
I started to really panic. “No need. I’ll come with you.”
Going completely still like I’d seen Blade do on too many occasions to count, the attorney stared down at me for a full three seconds. Then he spoke in that softer tone again. “Blade is not going to hurt you. He’s many things, but violent towards women is not one of them. That said, I understand you want to leave. I’m happy to give you a ride to wherever you need to go. However, Blade’s making it clear that he wishes to have a word with you first. If you tell me you don’t want to speak to him or be alone with him, you can walk out with me now. If you’d like to listen to what he has to say, I’ll pull the car around, and you can meet me downstairs. It’s your choice.”
My battered heart pounded harder, and I knew I wasn’t going to escape this unscathed. Either choice would hurt. But one choice might hurt him as well, and I couldn’t do that.
Without looking at Blade, I answered. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Understood. If you change your mind and don’t exit the lobby in fifteen minutes, I’ll assume you decided to stay. Otherwise, I’ll be parked by the valet in five minutes.” With one last glance at Blade, the attorney left.
The door shut, and Blade held his silence.
With my heart threatening to stop, I stood there as every good feeling from last night swirled away like snowflakes carried on the wind. I could’ve been angry that he wasn’t asking me to stay, that he didn’t say last night meant something, but I had no one to blame except myself. In the shower, he’d told me he wasn’t going to take advantage of me. He’d drawn his battle lines, but I’d pushed anyway.
Now I was here, with nothing left to say to the man who’d saved my life but destroyed my heart.
So I opened the door.
But before I could walk out, a heavily muscled arm came down in front of me.
Bracing his hand on the opposite side of the doorframe and his bare foot to hold the door, Blade blocked my escape. “This is what you want?”
His intoxicating scent, all musk and man and gun oil, swirled with a crispness that smelled like he’d bottled that cold Montana air and added earth, wood, smoke, citrus, and fresh grass.
I used to think there was nothing better than the scent of freshly ground coffee beans.
Now I didn’t even want a caramel latte.
I just wanted him.
The him before the attorney told my secrets.
“I asked you a question, woman.”
I stacked on the lies. “Yes.”
“You got somewhere to land?”
Driving a knife into my already decimated heart, of course he would ask that kind of question. Unable to stop myself, I looked up at him.
For once, he didn’t hide behind the mask of a warrior.
Cold eyes, expression furious, two-day growth that almost hid his sharp jawline, his full lips were drawn tight.
Suddenly, I was glad he’d never kissed me. “Thank you.”
“Not an answer. Soft landing. You got one?”
Tears welled. “I’m leaving now.” I wanted to hate him for those words that sounded like he cared. “Thank you for everything, Blade Emrik.”
Staring at me like he could see all of my lies, he lowered his arm, but he didn’t say anything.
I walked out.