Chapter Thirty-Eight
Charlotte
One week later…
I t’s snowing.
Again.
I stare out the window, shivering despite being warm inside Cal’s cabin. The snow makes me think of that night. The pain. The terror. The struggle. Each time I slip back to that horrible night, my emotions threaten to crash down on me.
I survived.
I’m alive.
“Here, Char,” Roux says, setting a hot cup of tea on the end table beside me. “Drink that. You’re trembling.”
I force a smile, dragging my gaze down her heavily swollen stomach. She’s due on Christmas Eve, but her baby girl is huge. There’s no way she’ll make it another week.
“Thanks,” I murmur.
She eases down onto the sofa next to me, leaning her head against my good shoulder. Her hand is warm to the touch as she takes mine, squeezing it. “I’m here to talk. About anything. You know that, right?”
I reach over with my free hand and sip the lemon ginseng tea. “I know.”
“But you’re not talking. I’m afraid you’re bottling it all up inside. What happened…it was horrible, Char.”
Tears sting my eyes. “I think I’ve blocked a lot of it out.”
“Maybe that’s not a safe thing to do,” she murmurs.
“I promise I’m not keeping it inside trying to forget,” I utter, setting my teacup down. “I just can’t seem to linger on that night. Each time I start to panic about it, my mind calms because I know they can’t hurt me again.”
Michael is in a coma.
Cal nearly killed that rapist who tried to murder me in cold blood.
It’s empowering to know he can’t do those horrible deeds to me or anyone else ever again because if he does wake, he’ll go to prison. And Ryan…Cal made sure he’d never be able to do bad things either. Dad told me Ryan’s injuries were extensive. He’s been given the necessary surgeries to keep him living, but nothing cosmetic since they want to put him in prison as soon as he’s healed.
Mom and Dad are worried about the psychological trauma that was caused from the rape and assault of that night. Luckily, I’ve been exposed to proper therapy when I went to rehab. I was quick to want to see a counselor again, knowing the quicker I face my tragedies, the more easily I’ll be able to handle them. Eventually, I will have to testify against the Cunninghams, but when that time comes, I’ll be ready. Cal did what he had to do to protect me, and I’ll say what I need to say to ensure he doesn’t get in trouble for it either. Not to mention, my account of what happened will further nail the case shut and prevent those two monsters from ever hurting anyone again. And when I’m ready, Samantha thinks we can bring everything back to the judge to reopen my accident case. She believes, based on the rapes, we can prove Ryan manipulated me that night and used his father’s police influence to show I was the driver when in reality it was him. I’m not looking to drive any time soon, but it’d be great to get my record expunged.
“Emilia is getting antsy to make her appearance,” Roux says in a breathless voice, shifting and rubbing her stomach. “If she grows any bigger, I’ll have a heck of a time giving birth to her.”
“That’s what you get for letting a big Hornet knock you up,” I tease.
She flashes me a surprised smile. “How are you okay? I’d be…I don’t know that I could be as strong as you.”
“I’m not okay,” I admit, willing the tears away. “But I will be. I want to be. I’ll fight to be okay. Ryan took so much from me, and then his father too. I won’t let them take any more away from me.”
“I love you,” she says, squeezing my hand again.
“Love you too, Roux.”
“Loden said he’ll come by later after Jordy picks me up. That way you won’t have to be alone until Cal gets off work.”
“I’ll be fine,” I assure her.
“I know,” she says, “but we care about you and don’t want you to be by yourself.”
In all honesty, I’ve appreciated the flooding of friends and family. Every time I turn around, someone is coming to visit me. Yesterday afternoon, I watched a Disney movie in bed with Sebban and Hollis. Last night, Loden and I ate ice cream while watching Cal and Trey paint the living room, both shirtless. This morning, Dad swung by to pick me up and take me to my doctor appointment. Tomorrow, Penny will be over with Mom to bring groceries.
“They tried to break me,” I tell Roux, my voice hardening, “but they couldn’t do it.”
“No,” she agrees, “they couldn’t.”
“I really am going to be okay.”
Another squeeze to my hand. “I know.”
“You think I could turn Trey gay?” Loden asks from one end of the sofa.
“I don’t think it works like that.”
“But, like, he cracked his head open. Maybe he forgot he’s straight. Have you seen him with anyone since he woke up?” Loden toys with his tongue ring, as though he’s really pondering this.
“He’s not gay. You can’t will it into existence just because you saw him shirtless and now want to bone him. Besides, you can’t fuck any of my friends. That’ll mess everything up.”
He pouts. “What about your brother? I know he’s gay.”
“That’s a surefire way to get murdered by a hot fireman.”
“Maybe that was my goal all along,” he teases. “Your dad? I’d totally do your dad in a second.”
“You’re such a creep,” I groan. “Go home.”
“Nope,” he says, swatting my thigh. “Not until big Daddy with the pierced dick shows up to save the day. Until then, I’m your babysitter. Lucky you. Wanna do some butt sex while we wait?”
Neither of us laughs.
“Fuck,” he grumbles. “I’m trying to be good, but that joke wasn’t funny. I know…after what happened…the last thing you want to think about is sex.”
I smack his arm. “Stop. Please be you. If you’re not you then I can’t be me and I really, really need to be me.”
He snuggles close, dropping his head in my lap. Because of what we went through and how we met in rehab, I feel like Loden understands my pain on some level. I’m thankful to have him living minutes away. I stroke my fingers through his messy black hair, enjoying the peacefulness his nearness brings. Both he and Roux are my emotional rocks. I need them more than ever during this time.
The door snicks open and then heavy footsteps thud into the cabin. My heart rate races with anticipation. Cal appears, his coat dusted in snow, green eyes lasered in on me.
“Hey, loser.”
“Hey,” I say back, smiling.
“Get off my woman, Lo,” Cal grunts, shedding his coat. “I don’t like when I can smell you on her. Makes me want to piss on her leg after.”
Loden snorts. “Fucking nasty fucker.” Loden lifts up, smacking me right on the lips with a sloppy kiss to piss off Cal, and then grabs his coat. “See you dirty bitches later. I’m going to go into town to see if I can get laid. I’m in the mood for a filthy cowboy. Got any of those here in Horn River?”
“This is Oregon, not Montana. Get the hell out of my house, asshole.”
Despite their crude words, they fist bump as Loden leaves. Cal’s good hand of course. His other hand is in a yellow cast. He fucked it up pretty badly when beating up Ryan. When he finally let them look at it, he ended up having to have surgery right away. Dad says it’ll take a lot of therapy on his part to get it working like normal. He has pins in some of his fingers, but the comical part of it is that the way they did the cast, his thumb always sticks out. I know how much he loves that thumb.
Cal strides over to me and leans down to give me a kiss. He’s handsome as ever in his dress clothes and tie he has to wear to school. His earthy, pine and mountain scent saturates the air around him, bringing a sense of peace over me. I’m overwhelmed by how much I love him and need him. How much I want him. He’s gentle as he brushes a finger over the bandage on my neck. So far, according to Dad and the doctor, it’s healing nicely.
“Want me to run you a bath?” he asks, pulling away slightly.
Always pulling away.
Always gentle.
“I want to have sex,” I blurt out. Even as I say the words, I choke on a sob.
“Charlotte—”
“You don’t think I’m ready. Got it.” I shove my thumbs-up right in his face, blinking back bitter tears. “Great talk.”
His jaw clenches, fire blazing in his intense, green eyes. “You didn’t let me talk, woman.”
A tear of embarrassment races down my cheek. “So talk.”
“I was going to say I’m worried I’ll be too rough for you.” His gaze darkens. “It wasn’t a problem before, but what if now, you can’t handle it?”
His words make my blood run cold. I’m right back to that night. Screaming and fighting. Losing.
“Never mind,” I mutter.
He stands upright to his full height. “Want me to make you some dinner?”
“Nope.”
His eyes lock onto mine as he unties his tie. He pulls it away from his neck and pins me with a glare. “Since when do you give up, loser?”
I flip him the bird.
He unbuttons his shirt, a cruel, beautiful smirk on his face. “You have claws, Charlotte. Fucking use them. This bratty little girl stuff isn’t you. It’s weak. Face your fears like the fucking force you are.”
Tears burn my eyes, blurring him from me. “What if I freak out halfway through…” I stand up, shoving past him toward his room. “What if I can’t do it?”
His strong arm loops around my stomach, making me shriek in surprise. He pulls me against his chest, nuzzling my hair. “You can. But if for some reason you can’t, what are you going to do, Charlie girl?”
My heart thunders in my chest, panic swelling up inside me. I can get away from him. He has a broken hand. Cal doesn’t want to hurt me. Not like them.
He kisses the top of my head. “You have a safe word. Use it. Do you remember it?”
“Chaos.”
“Good girl. Let’s practice.” He teases his fingers up my arm. It feels good until it reaches my neck.
The knife.
Pressing into me.
“C-Chaos,” I choke out when he touches the bandage.
His hand moves away. “See. You’re a good, good girl. Let’s try again.” He slides his hand over my stomach toward my pussy. Rather than touching me there, he sides it down to my thigh, gripping onto the spot that is still bruised.
“Chaos,” I whimper. “I’m sorry.”
“Shh,” he murmurs, his hand once again no longer touching me. “You think I don’t know you? You think I’m not right inside your head? I always have been, beautiful. It’s why we’re so connected. I know what you like and what scares you. I know your limits and you hold my leash. Together we’ll get through it. Even if it’s messy and fucked up, we’ll still get through it.”
“What if we can’t?”
“What if we can?”
“I’m being serious, Cal.”
“I am too. Fear can be debilitating. Don’t let it cripple you.”
He grabs the hem of my shirt and slowly eases it up. I allow him to rid me of my shirt. His fingers go to the clasp of my bra in the middle of my spine. With annoying, practiced ease, he flicks the snap, releasing it. My bra falls away, leaving me in my yoga pants.
“I’m scared,” I admit, my voice small and trembling.
“Scared, yes, but not defeated. Don’t forget your word, parasite.”
I snort at his stupid pet name as he kneels behind me. “Asshole.”
He kisses my spine as he eases my pants down over my hips. My heart is stuttering to the point I’m afraid it’ll stop. I whisper the safe word to see if I can say it. He hears. He somehow hears, pulling his hands away.
“I was just practicing,” I blurt out. “Go on.”
He kisses one of the dimples at the base of my back. “I’m going to lick your pussy. Unless you can’t handle that,” he taunts. “Say the word, loser. You know you want to.”
His taunting stokes the fire inside me.
“Nah, I’m good,” I joke, though my voice trembles. “I never say no to an orgasm.”
“Don’t forget,” he says, slapping my ass hard enough it stings. “You’re in charge. You always have been.”
A calm washes over me as he sheds me of the rest of my clothes. He rises to his feet and then begins undressing, albeit slowly because of his cast. Rather than assisting, I watch him, a growing hunger burning inside me. Once he’s naked and his beautiful pierced dick is bobbing eagerly, he sears me with a hot stare.
“I think we should nap instead.” He smirks. “Good night.”
I narrow my eyes in irritation as he lies down on the bed, flat on his back. He closes his eyes. I wait. One minute. Two.
“You dickhead,” I bite out, climbing onto the bed. “Tease.”
He grins, opening his green eyes. “Wanted to see if you were paying attention. Get on my face and let me kiss my pussy.”
His words thrill me. For a moment, I’m swept up in Cal, not thinking about that night or anyone. I straddle his head, grabbing onto the headboard. His hot breath tickles me as his hand caresses my ass.
“Come closer,” he growls. “Don’t be afraid of the big, bad wolf just because he bites.”
I chew on my bottom lip, slowly easing down. The second his tongue slides along my slit, I moan out in surprise. He doesn’t give me a chance to recover, simply squeezes my ass with his good hand, while he devours my pussy.
Pleasure zings through my every nerve ending. I shamelessly grind against his face, loving the way his tongue dips inside my pussy and his nose rubs against my clit. It’s messy and desperate, but I don’t care. He sucks on my pussy lips, even nipping at them from time to time. It’s overwhelming and crazy. I love it. I love him. I cry out when he runs his wicked tongue past my pussy to my ass, licking there too like he doesn’t have any sense. He then pushes his hot, wet tongue inside me, making me ache for his dick to replace it, stretching and filling me.
I’m trembling and aching with the need to come. It feels long overdue. Like I might explode if it doesn’t happen soon. Burning pain sears into me when his finger breaches my asshole, brutally exploring the depths there.
I’m not glass.
I won’t break.
Cal knows this and pushes me harder, making me realize this. It’s his way. Our way.
“Oh God,” I whimper, my muscles tightening as my climax builds.
He pulls his tongue out so he can suck on my clit, sending me hurtling over the edge. I cry out, whimpering his name, as I shudder wildly.
A strong hand grips my hip, yanking me down his torso. Panic swells up inside me again. My fingernails rake down his chest, scoring the flesh and leaving my mark. I whimper when his dick rubs against my ass.
“Look at me,” he commands. “My eyes, Charlie girl.”
I lock onto his green orbs.
“What’s your safe word?”
“Chaos.”
“Do you need to use it?”
My heart is thundering and my skin is crawling as nightmares lurk in every corner. But he’s not them. This is Cal. My Cal. My hero.
“No,” I breathe.
“Then get on my dick, loser.”
I smack his chest, laughing. Then, I grip his pierced dick and slide down over him with aching slowness. Panic has stolen my breath, but he doesn’t lift his hips to force himself inside. No, his loving eyes assess my every expression.
“I love you,” he reminds me. “Even if we never fuck again. I’ll just eat your pussy all day every day. I’m cool with—fuck!”
I shut him up by dropping all the way down on him. His big dick impales me, but in the best possible way. The fire between us is a blazing inferno, burning off the frayed, horrible memories. All I feel and see and know is him.
His fingers rub against my clit as I ride him, grinding against him in a needy way. I come before he does, a sharp battle cry, clenching around him as I do. A growl rumbles from him, my only warning before he floods his release into me. Exhausted and depleted of energy, I fall gently against his muscular chest. He strokes my hair as I listen to the thumping of his heart against his chest. His dick stays inside me where it belongs, still half-hard despite coming.
“I love you, Charlie girl. Never letting you go,” he murmurs, somehow always seeming to mirror my thoughts.
I lift up to stare down at him. My blond hair curtains around our faces. “What’s with the Charlie girl?”
“Sounds nicer than loser, loser.” His playfulness fades and he strokes his thumb along my jaw. “I had a dream once. When I thought I hated you.”
“A sex dream?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “All I know is you were on top of me just like this. Staring at me like I was your everything. The two of us lost in our own little world.”
“Were you mad?”
“Later, hell yes. Right then, no. In my dream, I thought you were fucking perfect. I called you an angel.” He kisses my lips. “You told me to call you Charlie girl.”
“A silly dream.”
He strokes my shoulder. “Nah, angel, not silly at all.”
“Call me Charlie girl,” I say with a smile.
“I don’t think it was a dream,” he murmurs. “I think it was a memory. It just hadn’t happened yet.”