10. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Dion
I watched Emily's face as she processed what I'd just told her. Her fingers gently traced the scars on my back, her touch so light I barely felt it.
"Your father did this to you?" she whispered, horror and compassion mingling in her voice.
I nodded, turning to face her fully. I rarely showed people my scars, and even more rarely spoke about them.
But with Emily, the words came naturally.
"My family is Greek, in case you wondered about my name.
Well, my first name. I changed my last name to my mother's.
It was Laskos. My grandfather and great-grandfather made a lot of money from the tobacco and engineering industries.
My father lost it all. He was selfish and cruel, and only cared about being the big man.
He also groomed me to treat Mom basically like shit.
She couldn't do anything right, and I grew up conditioned to think she was pathetic.
" I tried to keep the shame out of my voice, but I didn't succeed as Em pressed closer to me, sensing it.
"I'm so sorry, Dion."
"I had my eyes opened when I was nine. I can't even remember why I came home early from school that day, but he was raping her on the kitchen floor. I didn't understand what was happening, but I heard her cries, saw his fists… the blood." I swallowed the bile that rose up my throat.
"I went crazy and ran at him but at nine I was a weed.
" I needed to end this story, but Emily shuffled up behind me and wrapped her arms around my middle, dropping a kiss on my shoulder.
"Long story short, Mom had no cash and she knew if she left him, he would get me, and she wouldn't leave me. So, we came to an arrangement."
Emily stilled. "What do you mean?"
"Every time Mom 'messed up' I would take her punishment. I used to have to take myself to his study and bend over the desk." She hissed in a horrified breath, and I hastened to explain.
"No, not that." But it'd been worse because I’d had to hide it from Mom. "He got off hitting me with a cane."
"What happened?" Emily asked softly.
"I had to leave school and get a private tutor.
I wasn't allowed to go anywhere in case someone saw my back, but one day I was doing stupid stunts with some of the village kids.
They all thought I was a stuck-up asshole, and Dad was away at some golf thing, so I took on a dare.
I'd never been on a skateboard in my life, and I ended up with a broken arm in three places and a concussion.
" I pressed my lips together, then turned and scooped Emily into my lap.
If I was going to get this all out, I needed her close.
"Before I knew what had happened, I was in the ER, and they'd called my mom…
who didn't know about my back." I’d been so selfish.
If I hadn't taken on that stupid dare, Mom might still be alive.
"Dad got summoned and pretended to be horrified.
Blamed everything on her. Said she was drinking, paid off a doctor to back him up, but I was in surgery and didn't know any of this.
By the time I woke up he'd had her committed and drugged up to her eyeballs.
She died seven months later before I managed to find out where she was. "
I glanced down and thumbed the tears from Emily's face. "Dion," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't be," I said, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm. "It's ancient history now."
"Is your dad still alive?" I smirked at the surprise in her voice. Maybe she knew me already.
"Yep. Penniless and living in a dump."
Her eyebrows rose. "Eric?"
"Actually no, but he keeps him that way.
Eric is a master on a computer. I met my godparents at Mom's funeral.
Mom's cousins. They'd just returned from a five-year diplomatic posting to Malasia and only found out about Mom's death because my aunt reached out.
Apparently, there was bad blood between my father and Uncle Christopher, so they didn't speak.
After the funeral, Aunt Catherine came looking for me while my father was getting drunk downstairs.
She came into my bedroom when I didn't hear her knock and saw my sports bag packed with clothes and food. "
"You were running away?"
I nodded. "Mom had been the only thing keeping me compliant.
He told me horror stories about the places she could be sent to if I ever breathed a word, and he kept promising to bring her home.
I didn't let him hit me ever again, but I stayed quiet.
I moved in with Chris and Katie, as I called them, that evening. "
Emily reached up and pressed a kiss on my lips, and for a few moments I lost myself in her.
"Why did you join the Marines?"
I traced her swollen lips with the tip of my finger.
"Honestly? Anger, I suppose, which is a really insane reason.
Originally, I wanted to hurt my father, and Katie and Chris convinced me to let them handle it.
Two days into bootcamp I finally got the news that my father was being prosecuted by the IRS.
" She bent and pressed a kiss to my shoulder.
"Chris caught me practicing with one of his guns behind the house three days after I moved in. He sat me down and told me to trust him. That dying was too good for my father, and he had to suffer. So, I waited, and it took a while, but Chris kept his promise." She leaned into me in support.
When we'd sorted this mess out, I was going to take Emily to meet them. Katie would adore her. "Come on," I said, standing and putting her down gently on her feet. "Let's get that shower, then figure out our next steps."
In the bathroom, I adjusted the water temperature before guiding Emily under the spray. She sighed as the warm water cascaded over her, and I took a moment to simply appreciate her—the graceful curve of her neck, the delicate line of her spine, the soft swell of her hips.
"You're staring," she murmured, glancing over her shoulder at me.
"Can you blame me?" I stepped into the shower behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her back against my chest. "You're beautiful."
She blushed, the pink spreading down her neck to her chest. "I'm fat." She yelped because my hand had shot out so quickly and smacked her ass.
"Don't you ever say that again," I growled, my voice low but firm. "You're perfect."
She rubbed her bottom, eyes wide. "Did you just spank me?"
"I did," I confirmed, turning her to face me. "And I'll do it again if I hear you talking about yourself like that. Your body is beautiful, Emily. Every inch of it."
The surprise in her eyes slowly gave way to something else—a mixture of indignation and arousal that made my blood heat. "You can't just... discipline me whenever you want."
"Actually," I said, reaching for the shampoo, "that's exactly what a Daddy does." I poured some into my palm and began working it through her hair, my fingers massaging her scalp. "He corrects behavior that's harmful—like saying negative things about your gorgeous body."
She closed her eyes, leaning into my touch despite her protest. "We haven't... I mean, I never agreed to..."
"You called me Daddy, and you have a safeword," I reminded her gently, continuing to massage her scalp.
Her cheeks flushed deeper. "That was... in the moment."
"Was it?" I tilted her head back slightly to rinse the shampoo, careful to keep the suds from her eyes. "Or was it what felt natural to you?"
She didn't answer, but the way she melted into my touch told me everything I needed to know.
I continued washing her—conditioner in her hair, soap over her shoulders, down her back, across her stomach.
My hands were firm but gentle, caring for her in a way that went beyond sexual, even if my dick disagreed.
"This feels nice," she admitted softly as I rinsed the conditioner from her hair.
"Being taken care of usually does," I replied, reaching for a washcloth to clean her more intimate areas. "Especially when you've been taking care of everyone else for so long."
She tensed slightly as the cloth brushed between her thighs, still sensitive from our lovemaking. "You don't have to do that. I can wash myself."
"I know you can," I said, continuing my gentle ministrations. "But I want to. Let me take care of you, Emily."
She hesitated, then nodded, relaxing into my touch once more. When I finished washing her, I handed her the cloth. "Your turn."
She took it with a shy smile and began washing me, her touch exploratory and tender. When she reached my back, her movements slowed, fingers tracing the raised scars with gentle reverence.
"Does it hurt?" she asked quietly.
"Not anymore," I answered honestly. "They're just a part of me now."
She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to one of the larger scars. The tenderness of the gesture caught me off guard, making my throat tighten.
"Thank you," I murmured.
For what?"
"For seeing them and not being disgusted."
Emily's voice rose. "Disgusted? Why would I be disgusted?"
"Some people are," I admitted, remembering past lovers who'd recoiled or pitied me. "They either can't handle it, or they treat me like I'm broken."
"You're not broken," she said fiercely, her hands sliding around to my chest. "You're strong. Incredibly strong."
I turned in her embrace, capturing her lips in a kiss that conveyed everything I couldn't put into words. When we finally broke apart, the water was starting to cool.
"We should finish up," I murmured against her lips. "Before we freeze."
She nodded, and we quickly rinsed off. I stepped out first, wrapping a large towel around my waist before holding one open for her. She stepped into it, and I enveloped her in the soft fabric, using the corners to gently dry her shoulders and back.
"I could get used to this," she admitted softly, watching me through her lashes.