Chapter 27
DELILAH
Blade’s room is like the man who sleeps here. Masculine, no-nonsense and rather dark.
I take a quick shower, the soap musky with a hint of spice, a towel warm from the rail. When I brush my teeth, I stare at my reflection and wonder how I got here. Thank God the Reapers came to Rockwell because I wouldn’t be alive right now.
As my mind trails over the past, a different reflection stares back at me. A woman with light blonde hair, pale skin and haunted green eyes.
A man appears behind her, his dark stare unwavering. She trembles inside as his fingers close around her neck. The pressure is life-threatening, his glare sadistic, and his whisper rocks through her entire soul.
‘I fucking own you, Aspen. Every thought in your head is one I put there.’
My hand flies to my neck as my gaze drops to the reflection, and I note the white wedding gown she is wearing.
The man snarls, his features distorted as he relaxes his hold.
With a sinister leer, he grips her hair and tugs her head back, and hisses, ‘Never fight me, baby, because your punishment will hurt. Now get the hell out of here and get naked. The fun has just begun.’
I swallow hard, watching my memory dance before me like an old movie.
It’s almost as if it happened to somebody else, because the dark hair changes my appearance.
My hand remains at my throat as the memory reminds me of my past, and like a radio searching for a station, the memories crackle in my head, fading, parts of them playing on repeat, then vanishing.
The picture is not complete, but it’s in there somewhere.
Reaching out, I steady my hands on the basin. Staring at my reflection, willing the memories back. Hatred curls through my heart, both for me and for the man I was forced to marry because it’s clear to me that I never loved that man.
I don’t move. I want more, and I channel my mind to the past, hoping it offers what I need. I suck in the air, my fingers trembling as I hold on, flashbacks of pain, brutality and devastation.
Rough hands, a swift kick in my side, curling in a ball on the floor, laughter all around me. Hands gripping me, forcing me, jeering. Women laughing, nails scratching against my skin.
All the time he is there, sitting on his chair like a king on a throne, watching them tear me apart.
As my eyes raise to the glass, tears streak my face as I witness that wedding dress ripped apart.
It was my wedding night.
The image fades and I retch into the basin, the full horror only starting to hit home.
A loud thump on the door.
“Are you alright in there, darlin’?”
My shoulders sag; tears streak my face. I whisper, “Blade.”
My fingers cling onto the basin, and he shoves his way into the room, and as I fall, he catches me before I hit the floor. My sobs pour out as if I’m a wounded animal, and as he swings me into his arms, I don’t even register that I’m naked.
I curl against his hard chest that blocks the light, my own private sanctuary away from the pain the world delivers on repeat.
His grip is tight, protective, and reassuring, and his soft kiss on my head, welcoming and comforting.
He carries me as if I’m a child to his bed and lays me gently down. His hold tender. I cling to him; I can’t stop the tears, and his soothing words remind me there are decent people in the world.
“Was it a memory?”
His husky whisper causes me to nod, and as I drag in a breath, I whisper, “It was my wedding night. He–”
I gulp. “He watched them, Blade. They tore me apart while he watched like it was a freaking movie.”
“Fuck!”
His heavy whisper is menacing, and yet I cling onto him.
“Please don’t leave me.”
“I won’t, darlin’. You’re safe with me.”
His strong arms wrap around me as he holds me close and I whisper, “I want to bring him down, Blade. All of them.”
“Me too, darlin’.”
He kisses the top of my head, more for reassurance, but I lift my gaze to his and catch the spark flaring between us. In that split second, I register this is more than a job to him, and I catch my breath. He is the first man in my entire life who looks as if he has genuine feelings for me.
Reaching up, I run my finger over his jagged scar, loving the beauty of the ripped skin, the warrior who survived. My warrior.
He stares into my eyes, the flicker of pain in them reminding me he’s an honorable man, and I whisper, “I have been used by men my entire life, Blade. It’s an understanding deep within me. Just once, I want a man to kiss me as if he wants to own my heart and not my body.”
A thousand emotions pass through his expression, and his voice is low as he whispers, “You’re hurting, darlin’. You don’t need another man hitting on you.”
“Do you want to kiss me, Blade, because I want to kiss you? Nothing more, just a kiss to see what it’s like to kiss someone you can’t stop thinking about.”
His hand runs around the back of my head, holding it gently in place, and my palm presses against his chest, my breath hitching at the intensity of his gaze. His dark eyes gleam as he moves closer, and his whisper is low as his words attempt to change my mind.
“I want to kiss you so badly, darlin’ and I have for some time now. You’re not ready though. You’ve suffered so much trauma, and I won’t be the man to add to that.”
“Then don’t.”
I smile, no nerves or doubts. “Give me this memory, Blade. I only have bad ones up until you whisked me away to the mountains. I need this. I need you, and if it’s only one time, I’ll live with that, but please, give me something to hold in my heart that is worth something.
Something I want to give, and not something taken from me against my wishes. ”
His eyes burn as he moves closer, his touch soft but firm as his lips move against mine. His jaw is rough, his musky scent all man, and as his muscles ripple under my hands, his lips close against mine.
The sensations this kiss causes are like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. My entire soul shifts as I kiss him back, my heart racing, my body turning to liquid, and as the kiss deepens, his tongue wraps with mine.
A small moan escapes me and meets his rough groan.
My skin heats, my heart races, and my body bends to his will.
I want more; this isn’t enough, and the fact I’m naked doesn’t concern me as much as it should.
I am offering myself to him and I couldn’t give a fuck how it looks.
I want this memory. I need it to be him.
I never knew how powerful one kiss could be, and as he pulls away slightly, he whispers against my swollen lips, “I’m taking advantage of you. I can’t be that man.”
“You’re not.”
Reaching up, I cup his face in my hand, and he leans into it, his eyes heavy with lust.
“Sleep with me tonight, Blade. I’m not asking for anything more than that, but I want to be close to you and I don’t know why.”
“Fuck, darlin’.”
He blows out a tortured breath, and his gaze pierces me as he huffs, “I want you so bad, but I won’t be that guy.
I want to keep you safe, and savor that smile on your pretty face.
I want to hold you, protect you, and make you happy.
But more than all of that, I want to plunge my dagger deep into that fucker’s heart who called himself your husband. ”
I smile at the anger in his eyes and nod slowly. “One thing at a time, baby.”
His breath hitches at the endearment, and I run my thumb over his lips and whisper, “We will be a formidable team, and I will play my part in bringing Gideon Fox’s reign of terror to an end. Just tell me what to do, but we must do it together.”
His eyes burn into mine, and this time his kiss is a sudden attack. Deeper, more passionate, desperate, and soul shifting. And as I push him back against the pillows, I kiss him like I’ve never kissed anyone before.