Chapter Thirteen #3
He squatted beside her, one hand still holding hers. He brushed hair from her face and cupped her jaw with the other. “I don’t know. We’ll come back tomorrow and figure it out, but you can’t stay here, right now. We need to let these officers do their jobs. Okay?”
Her chin bobbed, and he looked up at Benning. “If you have any other questions, you have our numbers.”
Benning stepped aside. “We’ll canvas the neighbors.”
Avery stood, and Jo rose with him. He urged her forward, but she hesitated. “Can I take Spike?”
“I didn’t see any pets, ma’am,” Sanchez said, his expression blank.
Jo pointed to the happy face coffee mug sitting in the corner, somehow still intact. The cactus Avery had sent her, also intact with the clump of dirt around its roots, lay next to it. “He’ll die if I leave him here.”
Avery didn’t wait for the cop’s approval. He stuffed the soil base back in the cup, grabbed Jo’s hand, and ushered her out of the apartment. In the hall, he grabbed her purse but left the Chinese food. They’d grab something else along the way.
As they left the building, Jo veered toward her car but didn’t argue when he tugged her toward his. “You’re in no condition to drive.”
He tucked her into the passenger seat and wedged the cactus in the back with the gift she’d refused—all that seemed so trivial now—but she wouldn’t let go of the metal casing, so he let it go, sank behind the wheel, and fired up the engine.
They hadn’t made it out of the parking lot before she pulled out her phone, her hand trembling. She stared at the screen for a minute, then dropped it back in her purse and sucked in a shaky breath that resonated through him.
He stopped the car and glanced at her. Defeat slumped her shoulders and dragged her deeper into the seat.
Reaching over the console, he twined his fingers with hers. “Talk to me.”
She shrugged. “I can’t call Brooke. I forgot Aaron’s brother is living with them. I can’t add more shit to her plate.”
“I’m not taking you to Brooke’s. You’re coming home with me.”
She untangled their fingers. “Avery, that’s…a kind offer, but there’s a hotel up the road. It’s just for one night.”
“You’re not going back to that place.” Did she honestly think he’d let her?
“It’s where I live, at least until the other apartment opens up.”
“That could be a while.”
“It doesn’t matter. This is a me problem, not a you problem.”
No, but fuck if he wasn’t making it his. “We’ll figure it out.”
She turned to rest her forehead against the window. “There is no we.”
Maybe not, but seeing her strength over the last few days, then watching her break under the weight of grief wasn’t something he could walk away from. Not tonight.
And fuck, every time he thought about how fucked up someone had to be to do that to her apartment, what they might do to her, his stomach churned and his blood ran cold.
If the same person was responsible for the slashed tire and the break-in, it showed escalation.
Which brought him right back to goddamn Murdick.
If I could get my hands on him—
A sniffle slipped past his anger. He rested a hand on her thigh. “I’ve got you.”
****
Careful not to wake Jo, Avery carried her into his condo. She’d cried herself to sleep on the drive to his place, each tear driving a sword through his heart.
The feeling was foreign and fucking sucked, and he’d asked himself a thousand times since leaving her apartment why he was doing this. She’d said it herself. There was no we. But here he was, getting involved, bringing her home with him when he’d never invited a woman into his inner sanctum before.
The answer was always the same.
Because she needs me.
Because she has no one else.
Because I can.
Any other reason was cut off before it could form. Sure, she’d gotten under his skin, but that would take care of itself once he fucked her a few times.
Not gonna happen tonight.
Rousing as he set her down on the edge of his bed, she finally gave over the pieces of metal casing. He placed them on the nightstand, and with gentle persuasion, he kept her upright when she tried to lie down.
“Not yet,” he said, “Let’s get your shoes off.”
He sank to one knee, hooked a hand behind her calf, and placed her foot on his thigh. Lowering the strap behind her heel, he removed her spiked sandal. It fell to the floor with a thunk as he reached for the other.
He met with a tangle of arms and elbows as he peeled off her sweater, not so white anymore.
“I can undress myself,” she huffed but didn’t brush off his fingers as he pulled the ties at her waist.
The dress slipped from her shoulders, floating to the floor, leaving her bare in the soft light from the hall.
He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t not look at her tits, high and tight, their beaded nipples beckoning him with a come-taste-me pink.
Already having feasted on them, his mouth watered, and his dick stretched as her sultry eyes shouted the same invitation.
Quick fingers attacked his belt. He caught them as the clasp of his pants came undone. “No, baby.”
“Isn’t that why we’re here? To finish what we started?”
“You really think I brought you home with me to have sex?”
Okay, so maybe that’s the ultimate goal, but I’m not that much of an asshole.
“I promised to make it up to you.” She climbed onto her knees and leaned into him. She gave up on his pants, and her fingers found the top button of his shirt and worked it loose. “I’m pretty good at it, you know.”
She wriggled one hand free, but his reflexes slowed as he wondered just how good she was and what tricks she’d learned.
“I’m sure you are, but—”
Her hand landed hot on his dick, her grip tight.
“Fuck.” His hips bucked, cramming the head of his cock into her palm. He ground his teeth and pried her fingers loose.
Why am I fucking fighting her?
“I used to watch a lot of porn so I’d know how to do it.” She clenched and unclenched her hand. “I figured if I was really good, Chase would never make it past third base.”
That’s why you’re not doing this. Because of Murdick and what he’s done to her.
“Come on, fuckboy, let me do this for you. Let me make you feel good. I want to. I never wanted to before. I need to feel something other than dead inside.”
And because of that.
“Jo, just fucking stop,” he growled, his tone sharper than he’d meant.
Her hand jerked away. “I’m sorry.” Slowly, she sat back on her heels and covered her face with her hands. “God, I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“It’s me who’s sorry.” He sat on the side of the bed and hauled her onto his lap. She didn’t fight him, but her muscles were rigid, and she didn’t burrow into him as she had earlier. He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I didn’t mean to shout.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t give you much choice.” She shivered. Probably the adrenaline firing through her taking a nosedive. “I should go.”
“No.” He pulled the throw from the end of the bed over her, for his sake as well as hers. “I brought you here to take care of you, not take advantage of you.”
“It’s not taking advantage if I want the same thing.”
“Believe me, there’s nothing else I’d rather do right now than make you gag on my dick.” That got him a snort. “But not tonight, not when you’re vulnerable and grieving, and… I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I respect you too much to do that to you.”
Twisting around, he laid her down in the middle of the bed to face the bank of windows with a view of city lights.
He spooned in behind her, fighting the resentment that gnawed at him.
She was fucking naked, in his fucking bed, and here he was, still fucking dressed with his own self-imposed rule of no fucking touching.
Instead, he seized a handful of blanket, kissed the top of her head, and fought the need to grind against her ass. “Now, just so you understand, I won’t say no tomorrow. I’ll want you to suck my dick, a hundred percent, ’cause the sun’ll come out tomorrow, and it’ll all be okay.”
Or is it tomorrow’s another day? Darkest before the dawn? One of them have to be true.
“It won’t,” she said, quietly. Too quietly. “No matter what I do. No matter how hard I work. No matter how many times I tell myself otherwise, it’s never okay. Not for long anyway. I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong. Why these things keep happening to me.”
“This isn’t happening because of something you’re doing or not doing. You are not to blame. This is the work of some deranged asshole who has it in their twisted mind that you’ve done something wrong. We just have to figure out who it is.”
And as soon as she fell asleep, he’d call the one person who could make that happen.