Chapter 25
Newton
Last night wasn”t the first time I spoke of my childhood.
I”ve worked through nearly all my traumas in therapy.
It was the first time I whispered them aloud to someone other than a medical professional.
I didn”t even have these conversations with the loving woman who adopted me. I did my best when growing up after my mother”s death and my placement in foster care to never think of those days again.
I had made certain adaptations in my life that I thought as a child would keep me safe.
I wore clothes to bed, including shoes, until I was in the Marine Corps because of the time mom made us run from a man”s house and I had to do so with bare feet in the middle of winter. So it was a lesson learned, and I knew I never wanted to have to do it again.
I didn”t turn my back to a room because of the time I was struck in the head with a flying beer bottle because I was blocking the TV.
Minor adjustments were made to keep me safe, and my adoptive mother, the sweet, kind woman that she was, didn”t argue with me about it. When speaking with her friend, she called them quirks as if they were completely normal. She didn”t force me to take my shoes off or sit in a restaurant with my back to people. She accommodated me, and I”ll always be grateful to her.
Thinking of her makes my heart ache. She might be the only person in my life I miss, but cancer doesn”t have people complete applications, only choosing the people that won”t be missed.
Despite Brielle lying on my chest all night, it still left me feeling vulnerable and a little raw.
I know I didn”t have to tell her those things. I also know she doesn”t whisper her secrets to me at night because she”s expecting me to reciprocate. I could tell by the stiffness in her body when I started talking last night that she hadn”t thought for a minute that I could possibly be damaged too.
I just wanted her to know that I understood what she went through a little more than others.
”I was hoping we could hang out in the room today,” she says as we walk toward the sink to rinse out breakfast plates before putting them in the dishwasher.
The look in her eyes and the way she nibbles on her bottom lip tell me exactly where her head is.
We showered together this morning for the first time, and although I had my hands all over her body, moving suds all over her skin, we didn”t let it go any further than heavy petting.
Apparently, she”s still as wound up as I am from the teasing.
I smile down at her, turning her around and escorting her from the room. I can feel more than one pair of eyes on us as we leave the kitchen, and I have no doubt the people watching will make all sorts of assumptions, including thinking that we took things further a lot sooner than last night.
Brielle has been at the clubhouse for a month, and every night she”s spent in my room. I guess it would only be natural for people to assume that a grown man and woman spending so much time together would end up having sex sooner. It”s not my place to explain myself to any of them, but I get the feeling I”m going to have to do exactly that at my meeting later.
Her hands are traveling under my shirt and over my abdomen the second we step into the bedroom. I kick the door closed, hating that I have to cover her hands with mine and stop her from trying to take things further.
I lean down and press my lips to hers, smiling when she grumbles her displeasure when I pull away quickly.
”I have a meeting,” I explain.
Her face falls, and although there”s disappointment on her face, I sort of love that she wants to spend so much time with me that it angers her when I have to leave. I”m not exactly thrilled about how my day is going to look either.
”Okay,” she whispers, but when she lifts up on the tips of her toes and presses her mouth to mine, I spend the next few minutes getting lost in her again.
I lift her, and she doesn”t hesitate to wrap her legs around my waist, her hips rolling the heat of her pussy right where I need it the most in the next breath.
I swear the woman could get off just rubbing on me, and I would chase her over the edge making a mess in my jeans.
”I think I”ve created a monster,” I whisper against her lips.
It doesn”t have the effect on her I expect, and I hate the way she freezes in my hands.
”Brielle, I didn”t mean anything—”
”It”s fine,” she says, but as the words leave her mouth, she”s wiggling for me to put her down.
I let her slip from my hands when I really want to pin her to the bed and apologize until she understands that I didn”t mean it the way she took it, but I know it”ll take more than a few words to get the memories of the things Nathan and Xan said to her out of her mind.
”Baby,” I whisper and step forward.
She doesn”t back away further when I reach for her, and I take a little solace in the way she presses her palm over my heart as she looks up at me.
”Will the meeting take very long?”
”I can”t answer that,” I tell her, but then realize how it sounds. ”I don”t know what the meeting is about yet. So I really don”t know. I”ll get back here as soon as I can though.”
She gives me a weak smile, the promise seemingly like nothing more than words to her.
I swallow down my anger because it”s not her fault, and the only way I can prove to her that I keep my word is to keep showing up and being consistent. It”s what it took for me to eventually trust my adoptive mother, and it definitely required more than a month for me to start letting go of all those abandonment issues.
I press one more kiss to her temple, squeezing her hand gently before leaving the room. The sound of the lock sliding into place guides me down the hallway.
I head out back. The meeting Kincaid requested is taking place at his house, and I have to question the privacy he needs.
I know what the conversation is going to be about, and it has everything to do with me avoiding him for the last several weeks since he asked me to nudge her into admitting what she knows about Nathan Adair”s criminal history, but even with everything she”s told me, she”s still in a his words against hers situation with no proof of her crimes.
I could tell when she admitted that he made her hurt people too that he threatened her with legal consequences if she ever tried to get him into trouble even though she didn”t go so far as to say that out loud.
I lift my hand to knock on the door, but Em pulls it open with a wide smile on her face before my knuckles can meet the wood.
”Good to see you, Newton,” she says as she steps to the side so I can enter.
I don”t know if I”m paranoid or if there”s an accusation in her tone for me being scarce these days.
”I have an appointment with Kincaid.”
”He”s in the den. Can I get you anything to drink?”
”No thank you,” I tell her, walking toward the den.
I”ve only been in this house a handful of times in the last year. Most all interactions with Kincaid and Emmalyn happen at the clubhouse. This is their private sanctuary, and as valued as I feel as a member of Cerberus, I”m still an employee of the business, and I completely understand the need to keep some level of separation between their personal and business lives.
Kincaid is exactly where Em said he was going to be, and, honestly, I find it a little strange to see him in a recliner with reading glasses on and a newspaper in his hands. Does anyone actually read the physical paper any longer when every article ever written can be found online?
”Sir,” I say when I enter, although I know he knew the second I stepped on his front porch.
”Beck,” he says, folding the paper and setting it on the side table before pulling the glasses from his face and placing them on top of it. ”How are you?”
I fucking hate small talk. I hate it even more when it”s used as an opener for something more serious. Why do people not want to get right to the point? Wasting time can be dangerous.
I can”t say any of these things to him. I”d never disrespect the man that way.
”I”m good, sir.”
”Please,” he says waving his hand toward the sofa to his right. ”Have a seat.”
I eye the spot he indicates longer than probably necessary before doing as he asks.
He chuckles, having noticed my hesitation.
”You”re not in trouble, and I”m not a principal, Beck.”
”Can I assume that you”re also not my boss in this moment, considering you”re using my first name?”
I want to pull the words back the second they leave my mouth.
Kincaid”s smile doesn”t falter.
”I asked something of you as a Cerberus member several weeks ago, but I get the feeling things have changed. If they haven”t, please let me know and we can make this about business.”
The way he watches me makes me believe all the things everyone has always said about him are true.
The man has a keen sense of people. It”s like he can sense their emotions, and it”s almost as if he can read minds on occasion. He reads bodies and mannerisms so easily it”s almost as if he knows what someone is going to do before they make that decision for themselves. It has made him a very skilled Marine and has carried over into the creation of Cerberus. I”m only one of many men and women who wish we had even half of his skill set.
”Things are much more personal,” I confess, holding my head high in case he wants to speak to me about his disappointment.
He takes a minute to just watch me, and, as it always has, the scrutiny makes my skin crawl. When someone just stares at me, I feel as if I”m being weighed and measured, and I fucking hate it.
I hate that he has the ability to make me doubt my actions.
I hate that I”m expected to be the man who protects Brielle and the one who”s supposed to interrogate her or at minimum coerce her into telling me things that can be used against her stepfather in a court case.
I don”t want to be both men and, given the choice, I think I knew the night I promised Kincaid I”d try to find things out about her which man I honestly wanted to be.
She did something to me the second I escorted her out of that house with her stepbrother”s blood smeared on her face while Beth was screaming for someone to get Brielle away from her.
”I don”t want to spy on her,” I say before editing my words. ”I won”t spy on her.”
Kincaid nods as if he knew my position on the subject all along.
”Ohio needs to know if she”s going to testify.”
”We haven”t discussed the case against her stepfather,” I answer honestly.
If I had my way about it all, the man would crumple to the ground riddled with bullets the second officers tried to transport him back to answer for his crimes in Ohio. I honestly think I”d happily go to jail to exorcise that demon from Brielle”s life.
”That look,” Kincaid says. ”It worries me.”
I don”t say a word.
”It tells me that you”d do anything for her, and that can be a very dangerous place to be.”
”I—”
”Before you argue or try to explain yourself, please know that I feel the same way about Em.”
I shake my head. That can”t possibly be true. He loves Emmalyn. They”ve built a life together for the last almost thirty years. They have kids and grandkids.Brielle just needs a safe place to land until her abuser is removed from the equation.
”I just want you to be safe, and to try and think before acting. Have a good day, Beck.”
”That”s all?”
”Did you expect more?”
”I thought you were going to grill me for information.”
”Would you tell me anything if I asked?”
My jaw flexes, anger beginning to swell inside of me for being put on the spot.
”No,” I answer.
A slow smile spreads across his face.
”She”s lucky to have you then.”