Chapter Thirteen
Ipush myself up off her, the excitement of the chase gone. I”ve experienced orgasms before, but being with someone, with Sara—being inside her—felt like lightning coursing through my veins with every thrust into her deliciously wet and warm pussy.
Skin to skin, flesh to flesh.
I’d waited my whole fucking life for this moment—the moment that we both shared our first time. But I never pictured it like this. How mortifying.
I feel borderline nauseous as I gather her up from the ground after putting myself away. Her legs are covered in cuts from the thick wood.
I heard her get out of bed and get dressed. I followed her silently as she thought she was escaping me. At first, I was angry, and then I found myself excited for the chase—turned on by the thought of catching and punishing her.
I came back for her. I had to kidnap her. Now I”ve made her mine. Yet, I won”t let her kiss me. Darkness begins to consume me. She’s not the only one who lost their virginity tonight. Not to mention, she is barely fucking talking to me. She acts as if I’m the one who brought all the trauma on her and that she’s responsible for nothing.
She has no idea. Despite my intense love for her, she damaged me as well. The only difference is that I don’t hold it against her.
I just need to let her in completely.
“Back to prison,” Sara comments as if nothing happened, as I kick open the garage door. Her body is soaked, and there’s blood smeared between her thighs. I want to ask her if she’s hurting or if I was too rough for those few short minutes, but I stay quiet. It’s my turn to stop engaging.
I carry her up the stairs to our room. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t get what I’ve gone through to have this place for her. Sara doesn’t know the hell I’ve lived in without her. I sit her on the edge of the bathtub as I reach across and turn the water on. Then slowly, I peel her soaked clothes from her body.
She doesn’t fight me, and it wouldn’t matter if she did. I would still do what I’m doing now. I strip her down and help her into the warm water. Her eyes avoid me, staring at the faucet rather than me.
“How did you know that’s the bubble bath I use?” Her voice comes out emotionless as she stares at the vanilla oatmeal scent that I pour under the stream of water. I decide to play her game.
I don’t answer.
“How did you know?” she repeats, this time her voice trembling. “How did you know what size of clothes I wear? Or is that just a coincidence?”
I tilt my head to meet her gaze. “Coincidence?”
“Yeah. Coincidence,” she mutters, sinking lower into the water. I keep my eyes on her face rather than her ample tits, bobbing just above the water. If I look at her body too long, I’ll be climbing into the tub with her. But that would be giving in right now, and I can’t do that.
“There are no coincidences where you are concerned,” I say flatly, still not really understanding why she is asking the question.
“So you didn’t have some other woman here? Then get tired of her and decide to come and get me?” Sara spits out the question with a fire I haven’t seen from her since before our years apart.
I crack a smile and shake my head. “No. No one but you.”
She eyes me after that and sinks down until her chin is skimming the bubbles. “Go away.”
I bristle at the words, my smile fading. This woman doesn’t know what’s good for her. First, she tries to run from me, then she wants to kiss me, and now she has the fucking audacity to tell me to get out. I once again fall silent… and am unmoved.
“Did you not hear me?” Sara snaps. “I said to go away. I just want to be alone right now.”
Chuckling, I shake my head and lean against the bathroom counter. I’d burn the world down for this woman if she asked for it, but she keeps asking for impossible things.
“I don’t know why you did this to me,” she continues, as if it’s her turn to guide the conversation. “I don’t understand why you broke my heart, kidnapped me, and then fucked me in the dirt.”
“You wanted it.”
Her cheeks flush a deep crimson hue, and she meets my gaze. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. You’ve never had to speak for me to know what you’re thinking, Sara. Nothing has changed about that. It’s always been that way between you and me—and it always will be.”
She grows quiet, and my head fills with the flashback of the conversation that changed everything for me.
***
“You’re eighteen now,” Sara whispers under the covers, her back pressed against my chest. I am not allowed in the house anymore, but I still make my way through the window every night. Ron is permanently disabled, but there are still other monsters out there in the world—and better for me to be the monster in Sara’s bed than someone else.
“It’s just a fucking number,” I say softly, burying my face into her hair. I won’t admit it to her, but I know that my age makes things more complicated. She’s only sixteen, and me sleeping in her bed isn’t the same as it was before. I wish I’d have made her mine before this fucking day… When we were both under eighteen.
But life is complicated, and I don’t want to be some teenage fantasy. I want to be her end game. I’m not ready to be more than her nightly security guard. My finances are shit. I”m being chased for a debt that wasn”t even mine, and they might fucking kill me for it. I can’t bring her into that.
Right now, she knows that I want her—I think—but the moment I sink into her, I have to be the kind of man that can support her. I can’t be that until I have some money to my name. Until I can support us both as I would like.
“Why aren’t you going to school anymore?” She trades one dicey subject for another. “You’re too smart to be playing the streets, Aiden.”
“I’m figuring shit out.” I don’t leave it open ended. “And it’ll be fine. When you graduate high school, I’ll be ready. I’ll take you away from here. I promise.”
“Do you?” She rolls over to face me, her pretty ocean eyes glimmering under the moonlight. “Do you promise to come and get me? Take me away from here forever?”
I nod slowly. “I do. I promise I’ll save you from this hell—and I’ll fuck you silly on the day when age doesn’t matter.”
“No one would judge you now,” Sara teases me, bopping me on the nose with a red-painted fingernail. “I have a lot of friends whose boyfriends are in college.”
“Yeah, but they probably don’t have dads like yours.”
“He’s not my dad.”
“He’s your stepdad, and you know as well as I do that if he knew I was in here, he’d be calling the police. I’m not supposed to be within fifty feet of Ron or whatever.”
She bites down on her lip before letting out a ragged sigh. “I sometimes wish he’d died. But then you’d have gone to prison for murder.” Her eyes dart downward. “Do you think that makes me a bad person?”
I shake my head and tip her chin back to me. “It’s not a bad thing to want to rid yourself of monsters and nightmares, is it? To be free of people who hurt you? I don’t think anyone can blame you for that. But he can’t touch you now. He won’t ever touch you, and in two years, you’ll never have to see any of these people again.”
“I’ll still write to my mother.”
“I know you will,” I say quietly, not quite understanding, but at the same time—I did get it. Before her biological father passed away, her mother was different. I thought at the time that she might become my mother, too, but she got lost in the bottle before that ever happened. I was on my own. And I always would be.
“I love you, Aiden,” Sara whispers groggily, nearly inaudible. Her eyes flutter shut, and I stare at her for what seems like hours. My heart feels full when I lie in bed with Sara, but all the other times, I feel as if I’m suffocating, and I find myself using whatever I can find on the streets to ease the pain. That has to stop before I can rescue Sara.
Otherwise, she might have to rescue me.
***