Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Hunter
Open your heart to me.
I slept like a baby for the first time in years. After taking care of my own needs in the shower, I fell asleep to Eleanor’s little snores in my ears. Apparently, I wore her out. I grin down at her, still sleeping even though it’s seven a.m. She’s normally already awake and working by now, putting the rest of us to shame, so it’s good to see her rest. I’m sure she’s racked up enough sleep debt for an entire year. While I keep a strict schedule of waking up before six regardless of the day, I condone this rest she clearly needs. Even Charlie, who snuck up at some point in the night to curl between us, is giving me the stink eye that clearly states he’ll never forgive me if I wake the sleeping princess. He typically butts my hand in disgust by six forty-five if he hasn’t been fed.
Eleanor rolls onto her side, facing me, and makes my mouth go dry as I trace the peaks and valleys of her body with my eyes. The tangled sheets spill down to below her hips, allowing my hungry eyes to take in even more of her. Damn, she’s stunning. Smart. Sexy. Adorable. I take in every detail I missed last night. I am going to enjoy learning her every curve. Touching her. Tasting her. Again and again . The lotus flower tattoo that begins on her hip is on full show. It’s a stunning watercolor of something strong and beautiful emerging from the dark. I get it, but she’s wrong about rebirth. She means it literally, like much of the thoughts crowding her mind, but rebirth isn’t about dying, it’s about transformation. This woman has survived horrific things, yet she is kind, courageous, and fights hard for people she’s never even met. Oh, Eleanor, you are a contradiction.
My eyes narrow on a raised part in the center of a pink lotus bloom. It’s a crazy effect I’ve never seen before, and I squint as my fingers brush over it. My heart thumps harder, and I swallow. It’s too deliberate to be an accident, but not neat enough for a surgical wound. I’m trying my best to piece together what could have caused it, but I’m drawing a blank. There’s a swirl that kicks out, then a straight part and two triangles. The tattooist has managed to weave the design in such a way the natural shadowing follows the scar. If I wasn’t so desperate to learn every inch of her body, I would’ve missed it.
My gaze travels up her body, and I freeze, finding her staring at me with an expressionless face. She doesn’t flinch, explain, or cover herself. This is why she wanted the lights off last night.
“Ask me,” she says. Her voice is huskier than normal, sleep still clinging to her.
I lay back down, facing her as I lie on my side. “What is it?”
“A brand.”
I have to force myself not to curse or get up and rage around the room. “Who?”
“Jonathan.”
“How old were you?”
“Sixteen.”
That man will die a slow, painful, brutal death before he takes his rightful place in the devil’s asshole. If I didn’t have the motivation before to do the world a favor and take out the trash, I do now. He hurt my woman in ways I’ll probably never fully understand, which means he’s lost the privilege of being able to continue breathing.
Her fingers reach out, and she grazes them over my cheek, centering me back into this moment with her. I grasp her hand in mine and kiss her fingers, unable to shake the rage flowing through me.
“Anything else you want to know?”
So, so much. “Does it mean something?”
Her breath hitches, and Charlie belly crawls between us, laying some kisses on her fingers. My body relaxes, thankful my girl is getting twice the love. He really is me.
“At first, I thought it was the symbol of our society and had some higher meaning.” Her lips thin, her eyes getting a faraway look. “That’s what we were told, anyway.”
“But?”
She moves her hand from my face to Charlie’s fur, and I marvel how far she’s come with him in such a short space of time. “It’s his initials made into a symbol.”
I’m going to make sure she has the opportunity to deliver her vengeance. He is the worst of the worst. If she doesn’t know exactly where to place a blade for maximum pain and a drawn out death, I’ll teach her.
“Do you think I’m ugly now?” Her words crack my heart in two.
“Charlie, down.”
He huffs but decides my tone isn’t to be argued with. I don’t give her a chance to shy away. Placing my hand over the brand, I drag her body on top of mine. I still have my boxers on, but the second she’s close to me, my cock wakes up.
“Do I seem turned off to you?”
She shakes her head, her hips tentatively moving against my own. “No.”
I grab her hand and move it over the right side of my ribs where there are two indents deep enough to pucker the skin. “Do I seem ugly to you?”
She blinks as her fingers poke at the stab marks. “Of course not.”
Come on, Ellie, use that big brain of yours to make the direct parallel. “Beauty isn’t found in perfection, Eleanor, it’s found in the story of survival written in your soul. You have a good heart and dedicate your life to protecting others, against the odds. Do I wish you’d never experienced the pain and trauma? Of course. I desperately wish I could’ve shielded you from all of it, but you’re the woman you are today because you survived. So no, I don’t think you are ugly. I think you are extraordinary.”
She stares at my face, harder and more intense than I’ve ever experienced before. It flays me to the bone, stripping me bare of any armor, but I don’t fight it. She weighs me up, coming to whatever conclusion she needs. Either she will want me for all that I am, or I will spend my life persuading her I am the right person for her. Either way, she is mine. It’s too late for us now; there’s no turning back.
“Tell me why you call me Eleanor, Ellie, and trouble.”
My lips curl upward. Ever the analyst. If she doesn’t understand something, she simply asks. It’s refreshing, if not a little jarring. “Eleanor is when I need your attention; it’s formal, a quiet demand for you to listen to my words and break you out of your spiraling thoughts.”
She purses her lips as she remembers the different occasions I have used her full name and nods, accepting my explanation.
“I use Ellie when I’m teasing. It’s a little more playful. A softer, more friendly familiarity between us. An unspoken understanding. Friendship.”
“Are we friends?” she wonders.
“We are.” She sucks in a breath as I lift my hands and dig them into her hair before pulling her down so our lips are almost touching. “As for trouble, well, it’s unlike anything you’ve been called before. It’s my way of reminding you I want to do things to your body that make you scream my name. A little secret between us, because you enjoy causing a little chaos in my world.”
She melts against me as soon as our lips touch, like putty in my hands. I have this sense of pride that I, Hunter King, am the only one capable of making her mindless with desire. She’s been clear she’s had partners, albeit lackluster, but finding pleasure in those encounters is something she has not experienced before. Everything she’s experiencing with me is completely new, and my heart twists knowing we’ll get to share so many firsts.
She pulls away and leans her head on my chest, over my heart. I sweep my hands over her back, feeling at peace with her in my arms despite the heaviness of our morning confession. “Are you okay?”
Her fingers trace over the tattoo on my chest. I’m waiting for her to ask me to bare my soul. She’s done the same for me, so it’s only fair, and for the first time, I want to share my shameful burden with a woman.
“We weren’t allowed to feel pleasure,” she whispers, her fingers stilling against my tattoo.
I force myself to stay absolutely still as she reveals a little more of her history, of what has shaped her into the woman she is today. Abuse doesn’t rule you, and you don’t have to let it define you, but acknowledgement of its impact on your life is the only way to repair the damage. Until last night, she hadn’t found a way to move past it. The weight on my chest is suddenly twice as heavy as my fingers dig into the strength of her back. She trusts me with her mind and body. Now I have to work on her heart.
“We were punished for any perceived attraction and had daily lessons from a young age that sex, for the woman, was a way to bear children while it was an act of pleasure for the man.”
I hold her a little tighter, sharing my strength if she chooses to need it. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I am here to listen without judgment.”
“I’ve never told anyone, not even Gail, the full extent of what happened.”
“These are your experiences, Eleanor, your private thoughts. Only share what you feel comfortable with. But in my experience, verbalizing the memories is a great way of excising them. It’s the last step of accepting that something horrific happened, but you survived.”
“I want to tell you,” she whispers. “But I think I need to do it in small doses.”
So she doesn’t get overwhelmed. I understand, and I wonder if she realizes the monumental step she’s taken trusting someone with this raw wound.
Charlie jumps back onto the bed and slides in next to me before laying his head on my shoulder and staring at Eleanor. She lifts her hand from my heart with a small smile and gives him some ear scratches which he laps up. It’s a perfect bubble, one I’m desperate to stay in for as long as possible.
My phone rings with a distinct tone that makes my heart stop in my chest. If it was anyone else, I would ignore it, but while the woman in front of me needs my support, the one on the end of that call needs it even more. I already failed her once, and I swore to myself I’d never do it again.
I keep Eleanor pinned to my chest as I reach to the bedside table and grab my cell.
“Hunter King,” I answer.
“She’s having an episode, Mr. King. We need you to come in.”
I squeeze my eyes closed. Bad fucking timing, but I will always answer this call. “Give me an hour.”
I end the call and Eleanor lifts her head and rests her chin on my chest. I want to explain and let her in, but I need a little more time first. And I have to prepare to see the only other woman who holds a piece of my heart.
“I have to go and see to something,” I explain. “I’ll be a few hours.”
“Okay.” There’s no judgment or demand for an explanation. Eleanor isn’t wired that way. She knows she’ll get all the information she needs when the time is right. “I need to check my emails and dig a little deeper on Jonathan’s movements. He has postponed his latest wellness retreat, and it’s concerning.”
“Maybe karma caught up to him with an incurable disease?”
She snorts. “That’s what I’m wishing for too.”
Charlie lets out a little whine of protest about his bladder, definitively ending our snuggle fest on my bed. I blink up at the mirror, realizing I hadn’t once glanced up to view how fucking perfect the naked woman lying on top me looks. Soon, I promise myself, I’ll make sure she sees stars every night, because she deserves the universe to fall at her feet.