19. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
Dallas
I t’s been three days since I left Blaire standing in front of Bean Haven. Three days spent going fucking crazy and taking it out on everyone around me. My house is empty without her in it, her absence so noticeable that I’ve been filling my time, trying to be anywhere but there. Her smell has almost left altogether, and it pisses me the fuck off. My brothers have had enough of my shit and they won’t even box with me anymore, so tonight I have plans to meet up with Reid. Man is six foot four and over two hundred pounds of pure muscle. Ivy nicknamed him Drogo, and she’s actually spot-on. He’s even got the long hair and tattoo thing going on. My brothers and I aren’t small guys, but none of us have been stupid enough to take Reid on in the ring. Sawyer jokes that it’d be two hits, one from Reid and one as we hit the ground. But I’m feeling just worked up and crazy enough to take the fucker on.
It took me an hour after I dropped her off in front of Bean Haven to send a text to Wes, the private investigator, asking him to look into Blaire and her background. Not too long ago, Sawyer asked me what I would do if my girl was in trouble and whether or not I’d breach her trust to get ahead of the problem. I didn’t hesitate. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect and care for what’s mine. But is Blaire mine?
My brother drones on in front of me from behind his desk while my thoughts are lost to Blaire. I’ve given her space but I’m not happy about it. She spooked, and I don’t know how to make it better without her getting even more cagey. As if I summoned her from my thoughts, her voice pulls me back to the present.
“Excuse me, Sawyer?” Blaire peeks into the office after knocking lightly, nerves written all over her pretty face. She avoids meeting my eyes and it makes me angry as fuck. Like I didn’t have my tongue in her pussy a few days ago. Like she doesn’t know what it feels like to have my cock buried inside her.
“Come on in, Blaire, what’s up?”
“Could we have a moment to speak privately?” Sawyer looks at me cautiously, unsure how to navigate the situation. I haven’t come right out and told him what happened between us, or how I’m feeling, but he’s my twin, and he knows something is up. I don’t take any chances and speak up for him.
“I’m not leaving if that’s what you’re insinuating, Blaire. Feel free to talk with me here.” I gesture to the seat next to me and she shifts on her feet before pushing her wild red hair behind her ears. Fuck, she’s so damn beautiful.
“Okay. Well, I’d like to request some time off from work. I know this isn’t ideal with everything going on here, but I have a family emergency that I need to take care of as soon as possible.” I sit up straight, cock my head to the side, and study her. She still won’t fucking look at me. What the fuck is going on?
“Is everything alright?”
“Yes and no. I just need to handle some things, my grandparents need me to visit as soon as I can get leave from work. The sooner the better.”
She lives with her goddamn grandparents. I recline further into my seat and do my best to appear relaxed, even though this news just put me on edge. It takes all the control I have not to call her out in front of Sawyer, but I know by now that cornering her will only ensure her claws come out.
“Of course. Send Dallas and Carter over everything that you have on your plate this week and we’ll take care of it. Let me know when you plan to leave and when to expect you back.”
“Thank you, Sawyer. I appreciate it. I know this isn’t ideal. I’d like to try to leave tomorrow morning. I’ll get to work right now on wrapping things up to send them and hope to be back shortly after the new year.”
“I don’t want to pry, so just let us know if you need anything, yeah?”
“I will. Thank you.”
I watch as Blaire hurries from Sawyer’s office, leaving the door open behind her. Body on autopilot, I stand and follow her, not giving an ounce of shit what impression my shithead brother gets from it. I catch up to her in front of a utility closet, and without thinking, I grab her arm and yank her in behind me, kicking the door shut. She spins on me, her eyes shooting daggers in my direction, her mouth parting to lash me with whatever vicious words she has on reserve. I don’t plan on giving her the chance though, and my mouth collides with hers, my hands threading through that wild fucking hair I can’t get enough of. My kiss is just as brutal as always, bruising, devouring her mouth like I need it to live. Maybe I do.
She meets me in the middle, her tongue pushing through and clashing with my own. Fuck, I missed this. The way she feels in my arms, the taste of her kiss. And it’s only been a few days. I yank her closer to me, her breasts pushed against my chest, my already hard cock pressed against her lower abdomen. Her hands roam my back as her body melts into mine. I tighten my hold on her hair and slow our kiss, nibbling on her bottom lip, pulling her head backward to arch her neck, forcing her to look up at me.
“Now that you’re nice and compliant, wanna tell me what the fuck that was back there?”
Her eyes go wide, the submissive and dominant sides warring with each other in her pretty little head. “Talk, Blaire.” Her body slackens in my arms, her eyes closing in defeat. I wait, giving her the patience she deserves, but knowing full well I’m not letting her leave this closet until I’ve got the answers I need to help her. Unable to stop myself, I gently trace her hairline with my fingers, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes flutter open and the look on her face stuns me. It isn’t lust, or that vile little attitude she likes to give me. It’s a look I don’t ever want to see on her face again.
Fear.
“Hey. Talk to me. What’s got you so worked up?” I rub my hands up and down her arms as a tear slips free from her eye. That’s all it takes. One tear. My body softens toward hers, wanting to do everything in my power to make sure I never see another tear that isn’t from happiness or pleasure ever again.
Wiping her tear away with my thumb, I lean down to kiss her again. I take her tenderly and kiss her like I’ve never kissed anyone but her. Cautious to take my time, worshiping her mouth in a slow, passionate kiss that makes my heart beat erratically in my chest. Those plush lips like satin pillows against my own drive me crazy. Whatever she’s about to tell me, I’m certain that no matter what it is, I’ve got her. I pull back and open my eyes, finding hers glassy and vulnerable. I’ve never seen her like this before and it rattles me. I’d do anything to help her, she’s just got to talk to me.
“I just can’t, Dallas.”
“Princess, please .” Her eyes dart around the room, looking everywhere but at mine. I can’t let her pull back from me now. “You said you live with your grandparents. Why do they need you to come visit if you live with them?”
Her eyes snap back to mine, her mouth parting slightly. That got her attention, and she realizes her misstep because it’s written all over her face.
“You ready to tell the truth now? You know I don’t like repeating myself, but you need to start talking or we can go back into my brother’s office and you can explain it to both of us.” She rears back like I smacked her, her reaction catching me off guard. Fuck, I knew the moment the words left my mouth it was the wrong thing to say. She takes several steps back, her armor firmly back in place, and I know I’ve lost her.
“They’re visiting family. It’s none of your business. It’s a family emergency. Not a workplace one. I requested emergency leave, and I am taking it because I have no other choice. Butt out.” Her shoulder bumps purposefully into me as she yanks open the closet door and storms out. I drop my head back in a huff.
“FUCK!” Why does she have to be so goddamn difficult? I want to shake the shit out of her. Taking a moment to try to settle down, I spot a black object in the corner of the room with boxes stacked around it.
Fucking Gloria.
Defeated and pissed, I push my favorite chair to my office, finishing up my tasks to get this miserable day over with and head to Dom’s to expel some of this shit brewing inside me before I explode.
Reid’s stepping out of his truck as I’m pulling into Knockout, energy coursing through me at a volatile rate.
“Hey, man. How’s life?” he asks.
“Shit. Ready to beat the shit outta something.”
“Happy to help, you sure as shit can try.”
Reid’s not a trained fighter. Sure, he’ll knock around a heavy bag like it’s an inflatable, but he doesn’t fight unless he has to. He’s more of a weightlifter and runner. I know I got his ass in both speed and experience, even if one of his punches is enough to send me to sleep for a month.
After wrapping up and stretching, we climb into one of the boxing rings. Tapping gloves in the center, I don’t hold back. My first punch lands on his ribs, and even through the gloves, it’s like connecting with a concrete wall, the reverberations spreading through my fist and up my entire arm. I bounce on my feet and shake my hands to my sides. He keeps his hands up to block his face but otherwise lets me slam my fists into him.
“Fucking fight back, Reid!”
He shoves me off of him.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s up your ass, huh?”
I send a right hook to his face that he narrowly dodges.
“Dallas! You know this is fucking stupid, man. I’m not going to hit you back. Just get it out of your system.”
I ignore him, and instead, land two quick jabs to his ribs, pain ricocheting again through my arms. This time he does hit back, one solid punch, right to my face. I stumble back onto the ropes, tossing my arm over it to hold myself up as blood pours from under my eye.
“What’s got you so riled up that you wanted to get in here with me? No one is crazy enough for that.”
I snap. The pressure of the last week bubbling over to an all-time high that I can no longer contain.
“Blaire! That’s what’s gotten into me. Fucking Blaire! She’s under my skin like a fucking disease that I wouldn’t shake even if I could. I’m obsessed with her, every piece of her. I don’t even know how it happened. We hooked up once and then got stuck at my house during the snowstorm and everything changed. But she’s hiding something big, man, and she won’t fucking let me in. She won’t even tell me where she lives! Fuck!” I pace around the mat, trying to calm myself down. “When she got here she said she lived with her grandparents, and I didn’t even think to ask who they were. Today she asked for leave from work for an emergency and I caught her in a straight-up lie. She bolted and I don’t even know how to fucking find her. So instead of spending my night going fuckin’ door to door all over Aspen Ridge looking for her, I’m here to fucking hurt somethin’.”
Reid’s quiet as he climbs out of the ring and degloves, pulling the elastic out of his hair and retying it so it’s out of his face. He gathers himself before facing me, throwing a towel in my direction.
“Look, brother, I can help you, but this shit sucks. I’m only telling you this because you said she’s got an emergency and that doesn’t sit right with me knowing what I know.”
“How the fuck do you know anything? Do these girls just flock to you and open up?”
He laughs at that, but the humor is lost on me.
“Ivy and Blaire were both right place, right time. I ran into Blaire when she first got here, before she even interviewed with Sawyer. She needed some help, and I was in a position to give her what she needed at the time.”
So help me, if he’s fucked her I’ll fucking kill him.
“Get that dumbass look off your face, I’ve never touched her you stupid fuck. What is with you and your brother? You’re Neanderthals. I gave her a place to stay.”
“She’s at your fucking house?” Rage boils to the point of overflowing, especially after he rolls his eyes at me.
“No. I let her rent the room above Rogue. It’s a studio and has everything she needs while she gets on her feet.”
“Because her grandparents don’t fucking live here. She’s above Rogue?”
“As far as I know. I’m not telling you more. You gotta ask her. “
“Thanks, man. I owe you.”
I’m out the door and hauling ass into my car to get to the bottom of this. Whatever she’s going through, I’ll be damned if she goes through it alone. Within ten minutes, I’m pulling up and parking on the side of the street in front of Rogue Tattoo. I walk around back, find the stairs that lead to the second floor, and take them two at a time, pounding my fist on the door. Blaire opens the door meekly, and her tear-stricken face nearly takes me to my knees.
“Baby.” My voice softens as I push open the door and reach for her, bending and picking her up, and carrying her into the room, kicking the door shut behind me. In the center of the room is a futon, and I sit us down on it. Her hands come up to cup my face, angling me from side to side while she looks me over.
“Dallas, your face. What happened? Are you okay? We need to clean this up.”
In my hurry to get to her, I completely forgot about my busted face and realize I probably look alarming.
“I’m fine. I was boxing. Are you?”
She closes her eyes and tears break free, I watch for a moment as they trickle over her perfect freckles and cascade down her beautiful face, debating on the best way to get through to her.
“Princess, I’m addicted to you in ways I can’t explain. When I’m not with you, I crave you. And it pisses me the fuck off.”
She looks up at me then, eyes curious, darting back and forth between my own.
“But I wouldn’t change a fucking thing. I’m in this. Whatever is going on, I want you to know that I have your back. I’m not going anywhere.”
She takes a deep breath, shock morphing into worry.
“This is going to change everything, Dallas.” I already guessed as much. What she hasn’t figured out yet is that I’m so damn gone for her that she could tell me she dismembers bodies in her basement and paints murals with their blood in her spare time and I would probably ask if I could join her just to spend more time together. These few days away from her have been miserable after knowing what it’s like to have her.
“Try me. I don’t scare easily.”
She takes an audible gulp of air into her lungs before talking.
“My parents weren’t in the military. I wasn’t raised around the world. I’ve never even left Washington. My parents are Curtis and Natasha Hollis, two drug addicts who lost custody of me when I was five when they were arrested on drug distribution and child neglect charges.” She pauses and takes a deep breath. My head is reeling with this new information. My poor girl.
“I was put into foster care and bounced around quite a bit. No one wants a five-year-old kid with drug addicts for biological parents. Turns out they didn’t want me at any age, because I was never adopted after my parents’ rights were relinquished.” Blaire wipes away a few rogue tears while I spin out of control and process what she’s saying. I knew she was hiding something, but this, this I don’t even know what to do with. I thought she came from a happy home and moved all over the world. Anger courses through my veins at what she’s been through, it wars with sympathy and my need to fix her pain, forcing me to work hard to keep my breathing steady so she doesn’t spook again. Even though my mind is reeling, I rub my hands over the soft skin of her arms.
“Tell me more, baby. I want to hear the whole story,” I plead with her, hearing the tremble in my voice. She takes a deep breath before speaking again, her voice barely above a whisper, her hands trembling. I grab them, holding them between mine, hoping that I’m providing the comfort and safety I know I can bring her.
“While I lived in a total of seven homes, only one was a nightmare and scarred me for life. The last home I was in was for almost a year and a half. From sixteen through right before I turned eighteen. It was pretty bad. The nightmare I had at your house, they come and go still. I don’t know what my triggers are, but they sneak in sometimes and unfortunately very vividly portray the type of abuse I received.”
“Fuck, Blaire. Whatever happened, I promise it wasn’t your fault.”
“I know that now . . . He harassed me. And beat me. And raped me. I lived in hell.”
“Goddamn it,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes closed tightly and trying to breathe through my nose, processing what she’s been through.
“I’m sorry . . .”
I run my hands through my hair, doing my best to digest this. Moving directly in front of her, I hold her face in my palms, forcing her to look at me. “Why are you sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for and I don’t want to hear you apologize for that again. That shit happened to you at no fault of your own. You did nothing to deserve that. Fuck, baby, don’t ever apologize for that.” Nausea rolls through me at the thought of this precious girl being harmed by some low-life piece of shit. She nods her head, chewing on the inside of her cheek.
“It went on for a while before one of my teachers saw some signs and pulled me aside. As a mandatory reporter, an investigation was opened and I was removed from the home, along with four of my foster siblings. He was charged with child neglect and endangerment, child abuse, sexual assault of a minor, rape, among other things, and got twelve years in prison.”
“I can’t believe what you’ve endured and survived. I’m so sorry. I’m at a loss for words.”
I release her face and drop my back against the couch as the realization of what I’ve done hits me like a semitruck. I immediately panic.
“Jesus Christ, Blaire, I am so sorry. I had no idea. I never would have-I never would have been so demanding with you. Holy shit.” I take a deep breath, feeling like the selfish dickhead that I am. It’s hard to catch my breath as it sinks in, my chest aching in a way I’ve never felt before.
I fucking forced her.
I know her body was giving me all the signs, but I was still pushing her. “Please forgive me. I never would have been so dominant and forceful with you if I had known,” I beg, dropping to my knees in front of her and grabbing her hands, bringing her palm to my mouth and kissing it.
“Stop. Dallas, please just stop. First, don’t look at me like I’m damaged, I’m not. It took me years to understand that I did nothing wrong. That I didn’t ask for what happened to me. It took me years to love my body again. Second, for the first time in my life, I wanted to give up my obsession with needing to be in control. It wasn’t even really a choice, it just happened. The moment you were that way with me, something snapped into place, Dallas. I wanted to do whatever you asked or demanded or whatever you want to call it. It came naturally to me to submit to you for whatever reason. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. I even did research this week to help understand it myself. There are tons of articles on how kink can help treat post-traumatic stress in sexual assault survivors. But the point is, I wanted it. I still want it, even though I shouldn’t.” Her eyelashes flutter closed for a brief moment as she whispers, “That’s new for me.”
I’m fucked. Because I know I should be reeling in anger toward myself right now for my role in our sexual encounters, but after hearing her confession, how can I be? Now I want to do the same research and find out how I can continue to help her heal from her past. I could kill the bastard who hurt her. I’m pissed at the system for making it possible for shit like this to happen every day. But I’ll be damned if I make her feel bad. Handing over that control to me takes so much strength on her part, without the trauma. But with it? Fuck. I’m so damn proud of her. It also means she feels completely safe with me. But overall, this confirmed one solid thing for me.
She’s mine.
And there’s no way I’m walking away from her now. I’ll walk through the belly of hell for this woman. No one will hurt her again.
Mine.
I pick her up by her ass, her thighs wrapping tight around my waist, and lay her back on the futon. I’m eager for her to take her power back and experience exactly what she wants. She’s the one who reigns here.
My fucking queen.