Chapter 12 #3
Hazy black film darkens the edges of my vision. “But you weren’t a woman yet, and he damn well knew it! You were just a girl. An innocent young girl left in his care. How could he do something like that? You weren’t his to gamble away.”
“At least he didn’t hurt me as bad as the ones who won me.”
I dig my free fingers into my other thigh to keep from punching the stump.
More men. Men who need to die for how they treated my wife.
But first… “Is he still alive?” Because I’m going to kill him for what he did to my sweet Mara.
For violating her innocence and dooming her to a life of misery at the hands of men who had no right to take from her.
She huffs in laughter, but there’s no amusement in it. “I doubt it. He also had a bad habit of marking cards.”
Disappointed at his potential escape in death, I press a kiss to her hair for whatever comfort I can give. If only I could have found her sooner and stopped all of this.
“After that, I was passed around from owner to owner for the next four years. All of them men who used me or offered me to others. Some of them…I didn’t even know their names.
Joe was my last real owner. When I learned I was pregnant, he told me I could give the baby up for adoption to a respectable family.
Like a fool, I believed him. He sold Emmaline off right along with me even before she was born.
” Mara’s voice never breaks until the mention of our daughter, and the raw pain in her voice is my undoing.
“I need to hold you.” As easy as I can, I wrap my arms around the both of them in protection and force myself not to squeeze. They’re here now, and that’s what matters most. “Need to hold both of you.”
Mara relaxes into me, but only slightly.
The weight of her story is still heavy on her shoulders.
“I should have known it was too good to be true. Money was all he thought about, and selling us both to Crowley would be more profitable to him than forcing me to get rid of the baby. Men say anything to a woman because hearing what she wants keeps her happy and obedient, he’d told me.
” She buries her nose in our little girl’s hair and inhales deeply as if to gather strength.
“None of the men in my life have ever been kind, but some have been crueler than most. And the man who…who fathered her is not a good man,” she whispers.
“He would never be a good papa. Not to her and not to anyone else’s baby. ”
I stiffen. Is, she said. Not was. He’s alive, so that rules out Joe, Chance, or Crowley. “Who is he?” I grit out. Right hand to God, I’m gonna cut his dick off before I kill him.
“At least, I think he’s the one. It’s…” Shame enters her sad blue eyes before she hides them from me. “There were three I thought it could be, but I wasn’t sure. Not until she was born and I saw the mark.”
The mark…the mark.
I fish Emmaline’s little fist from her blanket and run a thumb over it. My sweet, innocent little girl grabs my finger with a strength I swear no other baby this size has. “This one?”
She nods. “He has one in the same place.”
I close my eyes and drag in a rough breath.
Everything’s beginning to make sense now.
This is why she had a hard time looking at Emmaline after giving birth.
How could she not? To look at such innocence and then see the man who raped her…
Gut-wrenching agony builds until I can’t take it anymore.
I need to know who this cocksucking fucking son of a bitch is. “His name. What’s his name?”
Her spine almost curls in on itself as she tries to make herself smaller. “Montgomery Blackwood.”
“The poker player who wears the black gloves?”
“Yes.” My ears strain to hear her. “He doesn’t like people to see it.”
But she’s seen it. Likely in the worst of circumstances.
I’ve seen the man in a game or two, and even though he slicked his hair back with the finest pomade and dressed fancy with his tailored suits and cane, he always reminded me of a snake.
I always just thought it was because he probably played tricks with the cards, but now I know better.
“He doesn’t even need the cane. It’s just to make people feel sorry for him and let their guard down. And for punishments.” She trembles in my arms. “If he ever sees Emmaline, he’ll know. I have dreams of him stealing her from me.”
“No.” The angry refusal erupts before I can stop it. Standing us up, I turn her to face me, and the pure misery etched on her features cuts my heart. “He’s not gonna lay one filthy hand on either of you. I won’t let it happen.”
“But how?” she pleads. “How will you stop it?”
Jaw set harder than flint, I cup her cheeks and thumb away the liquid pain that slips down. “I’m gonna kill him, wife.”
Knowledge can be powerful.
It can also be painful.
And in this case, it’s both. Mara hasn’t even come close to telling me all the things she’s been through, but what little I do know has been enough to hang over my thoughts like a storm cloud well into the next week.
I tried to keep it hidden so she wouldn’t think I was mad at her, but I don’t know how well I did.
Now I stare up at the dark ceiling in our room and listen to the small noises my wife makes in her sleep.
If I was protective over the two of them before, I’m even more so now.
Can’t stop shadowing Mara throughout the day and telling Emmaline how much her momma and papa love her.
Can’t stop holding my wife even more tightly at night.
And with how she either sleeps with her head to my chest or her hand over my heart, I don’t think she minds it either.
But I want more. I want her closer. Need it.
So close that I don’t even know if tearing myself open so she could crawl inside would be enough.
Mara’s feet shift beneath the covers and slip between my calves.
For warmth from the chill in the room, or is she just restless?
She’s strong. I knew it from the first time I saw her fierceness, but how the hell did her slight shoulders manage to carry this heavy burden for four long years?
She’d said she didn’t know the exact date of her birth, but even so, that makes her at least eighteen now with the innocence of childhood forever ripped from her.
Imagining our little girl the same age puts a thick knot in my throat.
Men who would do that to women and children are vicious animals, and the only thing to do with a vicious animal is to put it down.
There’s a subtle change in Mara’s breathing, then her body gradually comes to awareness. I feel the weight of her gaze in the dark, so I shake away my unsettled thoughts. “Hey,” I whisper.
“You couldn’t sleep?” she whispers back.
“Kinda hard to sleep when you’re holding a beautiful woman.”
“Warren…”
The exasperation in her voice pulls a chuckle from me.
“Wife,” I tease in return. “Do you not believe me? If I have to tell you every day until you believe it, I will. No hardship for me.” Then, just because I can—because she now allows me to—I drag her even closer and release a heavy sigh into her hair as I throw a leg over hers.
If she feels good against me now, I can only imagine how much better it will be when she fills out more.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. You were just too far away.”
Quiet falls, and I almost think she’s falling back to sleep until she speaks again. “I wouldn’t blame you, you know.”
“Blame me for what?” I keep my voice low.
Mara tries to pull away, but I don’t let her. When she finally answers, her words are even softer than before. “If maybe you were rethinking your decision to keep us.”
“The hell are you talking about?” I didn’t mean to cuss at her, but really. What in blazes is she thinking?
“I’m not blind, Warren,” she snaps back in a hot whisper.
“I haven’t known you long, but even I can tell you’re not yourself.
Christ,” she mutters, rubbing a hand over her forehead.
“You haven’t even been humming anymore, and with the long face you’ve been wearing, anyone could see that you might be having second thoughts about what you got yourself into.
Things only changed since last week. Since I told you about…
about my past. If it’s not learning about that, what else could it be? ”
No. Before I can stop myself, I roll us over and brace on my forearms as she gasps beneath me. “Woman, why the hell would I wrap myself around you like a blanket every night if I didn’t want to keep you?”
Her eyes shine brightly in the small bit of moonlight. “So you don’t think I’m dirty? Or too used?”