Chapter 38
Luca
“It’s going to be okay.”
I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince—myself or Austin. It doesn’t really matter either way. I need to say the words, and we both need to hear them.
“Let’s reserve judgement until we hear what they say.”
It’s been a quiet two weeks. Austin’s convinced the cops are going to show up in the middle of the night and arrest him.
I’m not so sure. The autopsy showed that Damien had weakening in his aorta.
Sure, it was likely the stress of getting the absolute shit beat out of him that caused it to rupture, but the doctors are pretty sure it would have happened anyway.
Eventually.
I reach across the console, taking Austin’s hand in mine and bringing it to my lips to kiss his knuckles. I’ve done that a lot since that night. His bruises—like my own—are healing. Our hearts? That may take a little time. Austin’s especially.
The waiting game is cruel, and there’s no way to know what the prosecutor will decide to do. I can’t imagine a world where Damien wins. Not even in death. Especially not in death.
I place another kiss on Austin’s healing hand, then cradle it between mine in my lap. There’s a tremble in it as we pull into the parking lot of the sheriff’s department, and it breaks my heart.
He shuts off the truck, then sits there for a second, staring at the doors to the station.
I study his profile. God, I’m so in love. And I don’t even care if it makes me sound like an awful human—knowing how far he went to protect me makes me love him even more.
“Are you ready to go inside?” I ask, running my thumb over the uninjured part of Austin’s hand.
He sighs. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
We step out of the truck and walk through the doors together. Sheriff Granger stands, then waves us over. “Let’s go in here to talk.”
It’s gotta be a good sign that they haven’t arrested either of us yet.
We follow him into the small conference room, sitting when he gestures to the seats across from him. My eyes fall to the desk where there’s a file sitting. It looks thick, and something in my gut sinks. If this is the case they have against Austin, maybe we won’t get off so easily after all.
The sheriff sits down, placing his hand over the file. “We’ll start with a talk, and if you choose to look in the folder, you can. I’ve gotten permission from the victim to show you.”
The victim?
“Austin, the state is not interested in pressing charges. Between your statement and Luca’s, we have no reason to pursue charges.”
I can practically feel Austin’s relief. It mirrors my own, something heavy dropping off my shoulders that I hadn’t even realized was there.
“It was a clear case of defense of another. You’re both wearing the evidence of that.”
I resist the urge to look away and cover the fading bruise around my eye. I have nothing to be ashamed of.
“Thank you,” Austin says, voice choked and raw. “I hate that this even had to happen at all.”
Sheriff Granger nods. “I know. You’re a good boy. Upstanding citizen. I’m proud to have you in our community and in our fire department.”
Austin reaches for my hand blindly, and I give it to him, letting him use it to try to quell his trembling. “Thank you, sir.”
“Now,” he says, leaning forward. “I’ve gotta warn you. These images are graphic.”
I’m confused but vaguely curious, so I nod. “I’d like to see them, please.”
Sheriff Granger pushes the folder across the table until it’s sitting in front of us. “Luca, were you aware that Damien had a previous marriage?”
What? I shake my head. “No. I had no idea.”
He hums. “They were married for six years. Got divorced just a hair over seven years ago.”
I glance at Austin to find him just as perplexed as me. “That was right before I moved in with him. I didn’t know he was married.”
Looking back at the folder, I sit forward, then open it.
The first photo is a mugshot with a younger Damien. The charges are listed under his name.
Aggravated assault
Domestic violence
Attempted murder
Rape
I stare at the paper in shock. “Are you seeing this?” I ask, glancing at Austin.
He’s staring at the paper too, just as wide-eyed as I imagine I am. “Yeah.”
The sheriff is quiet while we flip to the next page.
Fuck.
All the identifying information has been blocked out, but it’s full of documentation. The results of a rape kit. A divorce decree signed three weeks before I moved in with Damien. A protective order ordering no contact between the alleged and the victim. And photos. So many photos.
Each one is worse than the last. Fingerprint bruises much like my own around a pale throat.
Another with a young man’s face, eyes so swollen you can’t see the color of his irises.
One with severe bruising along his spine and lower back.
And probably worst of all, one taken from the front that shows a man’s bare torso with a stitched-up gash running from right under his left nipple, across his stomach, to his hip.
Damien truly tried to kill him. My throat goes tight, my vision blurring at everything I’m seeing.
And finally, in the very back, a handwritten note with a name and a phone number.
Theodore Baker 712-654-3187
Feel free to reach out anytime. No hard feelings if not.
I look up at the sheriff. “Was he convicted?” Obviously he wasn’t. He wouldn’t have moved me in three weeks later if he was.
He shakes his head. “No. Got off on a technicality.” He leans in close before whispering, “Between you and me, Austin? I think you did the world a favor by taking him out of it.”
“We can’t just spend the whole day in bed.”
Austin pulls me closer to him, nuzzling my hair. “Mmm. I think you’ll find that we can.”
Truthfully, I’m not mad about it. Not really. It’s nice. It’s nice to just be. No stress hanging over us, no worry about the cops. And honestly, no worries about Damien.
Other than a dull ache in my ribs, there’s nothing left on my skin of Damien. Not a bruise. Hell, I can’t even feel the ghost of his hands anymore.
“I need new marks,” I say softly, and Austin groans.
“Yeah?”
I wriggle out of his hold, then tilt my head back. “Yeah, I really do.”
Austin dips his head without another word, latching onto the side of my throat. A shiver wracks my body when he sucks, then drags his tongue over the spot. “Fuck, that feels good.”
“Oh?” His low laugh vibrates my throat, and then he’s sinking his teeth into it. Not hard. Not here, anyway. The rest of my body? Well, that’s a different beast. “It’s been too long since you’ve been covered in me, huh? You needed more?”
“I—” My cock jerks as he sucks his way down my throat to my collarbone, sinking his teeth in again. “I always need more.”
When he rolls me to my back and settles over me, I lose the ability to speak entirely. All that comes out are raspy moans and breathless whimpers as he leaves a path of his love down my body and over my skin.
It probably says a lot about me—and not all of it good—that being turned into Austin’s canvas like this turns me on so damn much, but I’ve learned not to fight a good thing. And this? This is a very good thing.
My cock is throbbing, leaking pre-cum all over my stomach, when Austin pushes my leg back and bites my inner thigh.
This is my favorite place, and he knows it.
He knows that there’s a certain spot that’ll damn near make me come hands-free just from his mouth alone, and he knows I want his bite marks there more than anything.
“My beautiful Luca,” he whispers, dragging his lips up and down my inner thigh before biting down and making me gasp. My back arches, and my hands tangle in his hair.
“God, more.”
He lets out a huffed laugh, his breath warm over my wet skin. “So needy.”
I’m not needy. I’m just his, and nothing shows that better than being in a body dedicated to his love.
Switching to my other leg, Austin marks me up there, leaving a trail of love bites and hickeys along my inner leg. In the summer, it will be harder to hide, but honestly, I don’t even care if people see it. Not after how long I hid marks I was ashamed of.
Austin bites down on a particularly sensitive spot, and my back arches off the bed, another burst of pre-cum leaking onto my stomach.
“Fuck. Come here,” I murmur.
Kissing slowly up my body, Austin makes his way to my mouth, and when he’s settled over me, I grab his ass and pull him down. Our cocks brush each other, and we both moan into our kiss.
Using my grip on his ass, I pull him down onto me, groaning at the exquisite fucking friction. Fuck, I’m not gonna last long at all. Not like this, and definitely not after all that.
“Feel good, baby?” Austin rasps, rocking against me.
All I can manage is a groan.
He tilts my head to the side, then sucks hard on the skin below my jawline.
Each pull of his mouth, each swipe of his tongue, sends me higher and higher.
And when he kisses his way back to my lips and pulls the bottom one between his, dragging his tongue over it in his mouth, I choke out his name and lose control—shooting rope after rope of cum between us.
My orgasm sets off Austin’s, and he shudders above me, rocking down hard a couple more times as his thrusting turns sloppy and his hips lose their rhythm.
He collapses against me, breathing hard as we come down.
I run my hands up his back to bury them in his hair, holding him close while we catch our breath.
After cleaning us both up, Austin sits down beside me. “Have you decided whether you’re going to reach out or not?”
I shrug. I’ve been thinking about it, and on one hand, I really want to, but on the other… “What if it opens up old wounds?”
Austin brushes a lock of hair off my face. “Then I’ll take care of you.”
Of course he will. He’s the sweetest man alive, and he’s all mine. He’d do anything to protect me and did.
“Okay, I’ll text him, but not yet. I just… I don’t think I’m ready yet.”
“Whenever you’re ready, baby,” he whispers, then leans in to press a kiss to my forehead.