Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
It’s fitting, how a holiday about being grateful can turn to an absolute disaster in the Finch household. The Great Thanksgiving Scatter, where the members of Mercy dispersed to all our different club-owned properties. Hiding and waiting for a new plan.
It feels like shit. Hiding is not what we’re meant for.
It’s a cycle I’m extremely sick of. New house, new rat, running again. Her depression again. I’m ready to do fucking anything to get us off this carousel to hell.
In different circumstances, this cabin down by the caverns would be a perfect place to spend the holidays. As it is, I can feel how restless she is. The way she mentally disappears as if checking out from reality.
The first week, she’d fretted over me constantly, a staple at my side.
It was unnecessary, as most of my injuries just needed time to heal, but she was steadfast, refusing to leave me as if it was some kind of penance.
Sleeping at my side like something might happen to me in the middle of the night.
Some of it is guilt, which I can't seem to erase from her no matter what I do. She’s taken full responsibility for what happened to me. It doesn’t matter that there is absolutely no evidence to support her, she’s locked in.
I’d even reminded her with my sternest voice that I was the one who brought her here against her will, thinking that might help her remember to place the blame somewhere it’s deserved.
Instead, all that happened was her tearfully pulling me in for a forceful kiss, then me fucking her into the mattress, growling in her ear about what a good little captive she’s been for me and how I’ll never fucking let her go.
She seemed to like that. Maybe I’ve corrupted her more than I thought.
No, Noah. Focus.
Focus.
What’s been absolutely undeniable since the night that Emma ran, is that I’m a goner for her.
The words don’t do it justice. I feel bound to her. Her happiness, her security, her feelings toward me. They matter. They fucking matter to me, so when she looks so lifeless and afraid, it makes me desperate. I would do anything to see her smiling like she used to.
This is new to me, since I’ve never been the type to get attached. I’ve always been considerate to the women I slept with, of course, but there was an understanding that it was just physical. Nobody was looking for more.
To be fair, neither was Emma. But I was going to give it to her regardless. She deserved it. She’d been perfect for her parents, perfect for her useless, cunt of a husband. Perfect for everyone. Look where that got her? Kidnapped. Life in total upheaval. Degraded and humiliated by some asshole. Me.
She deserves better.
She deserves better than I’ve given her.
A kick to the back of my knee jolts me out of that shitty thought, and I catch the culprit on instinct before he can scurry away.
Bo. Little fucking menace.
He smiles innocently at me, eyeing the hand I have clutching his throat. “What is wrong with you?” I ask him, releasing him and turning back to the counter, where the steaks rest for dinner.
“You’re staring at my best friend like she's your meal.” he says, leaning against the counter and watching me.
I shrug. “Is that a problem?”
“Depends. She’s been upset lately, you know. Torn up over you.”
I don’t have the energy for whatever this is, so I say nothing, dragging the knife through the steak. Emma likes when I serve it this way, so I can make her ask me for another bite. And I like the sight of me feeding it to her.
“It wouldn’t kill you to tell her how you feel,” he mutters, his fingertips drawing little spirals on the countertop.
“Yeah, and how do I feel about her?” I ask, a sarcastic smirk on my face.
“Don’t be a dick, Noah. This tension between you two is stressing me out.”
I look over at her, curled up with Molly under a blanket. “You must be smart enough to see that she’s not happy here. It’s like this all the time, do you get that? There is never going to be a future where this family isn’t in danger, no matter what bullshit Jesse feeds you.”
My words don’t land, because Bo is as stubborn as they come. He might let my cousin throw him around, but he’s no pushover.
So no, my words don’t sink into his little head. He just narrows his eyes at me, their sharp blue burning into the side of my face.
“Okay. So when you’re done dealing with Eric, your plan is just to…let her go? Wish her luck as she moves on and finds someone else to settle down with?”
The image ignites a murderous buzz into my muscles, my hands freezing momentarily as the knife hovers mid-slice.
“Because I’m not going back home ever. So she’s going to be all alone out there if you don’t plan on keeping her.”
My teeth grit. “She’s not a fucking dog.”
“No. But she is yours. Or did we get that part wrong?”
I attempt to exhale the tension, hoping to calm the riot in my brain at the thought of her belonging to another man, sleeping in his bed. His hands on her. Having his children.
I’m so on edge that I don’t even flinch at the thought. Kids? Fuck it. I’d never wanted them before, but I definitely hate the thought of her having them with anyone else.
Okay, that’s a crazy thought. It’s still true and it doesn’t change a goddamn thing.
“I mean, if that’s the case, I’ll let her know so she can start preparing herself to get her heart brok—”
I have my hand locked under his jaw in a moment, hair flying wildly into my eyes as I tilt his face to peer up at mine.
“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you, Bo.” My words are measured, and full of threat.
He smiles sweetly up at me, the brat in him coming out to play. “You don’t tell me what to do.”
“Is that right?” I ask dangerously, but he only smiles wider, seemingly proud of the reaction he’s getting.
“Jesse!” I shout and immediately his pupils dilate. “Hmm, I can see he’s got you trained well.”
Bo licks his lips, and Emma turns from the couch. “What’s going on?” she asks, voice soft with sleep.
Jesse comes strolling out from the hallway, covered in sweat like he’s just finished lifting weights. I beckon him with the crook of my finger as Bo starts to fidget in my grip.
“You’ve got a brat that needs handling,” I inform him, thrusting Bo toward Jesse who reaches out to catch him as he stumbles.
Bo’s devious little laugh barks behind me and I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t you fucking do it.”
“I was just telling Noah that he needed to—”
I lurch forward to grab him but Jesse yanks him out of the way. “Watch it, Noah. Punishing him is my job.”
Bo just smiles, knowing he has manipulated everything exactly how he wanted. “Do something about it or I will. Don’t be a fucking baby.”
Goddamn it. I stab the knife into the cutting board, and stalk around the island toward Emma. Her eyes widen at the dark, heavy energy that I can feel rolling off me.
“What—Noah, what’s wrong?” I wind my fingers tightly into her hair and tug, so that her face is lifted for me to possess her mouth with a bruising kiss.
Groaning against her tongue, I wrap my hands under her thighs and lift her to lock her legs around me.
Her initial shock quickly melts into a softer, submissive kiss as she lets me take the lead.
“What did you say to him?” I hear Jesse ask Bo as I carry her to bed.
“Noah, what’s wrong?” she whispers. Every muscle in my body is tight from my conversation with Bo. He’s goaded me perfectly, and I fed right into him. But hearing him describe Emma being anywhere but with me? I can’t handle it.
The taste of her is so sweet as her warm body submits to my touch.
“I love you,” I growl, kicking my door open and locking her tongue back with mine. I swallow her gasp, dropping her to the bed and climbing over top of her. “I fucking love you, Emma. You are mine. You understand?”
I hear the bedroom door squeak open as I rise to my knees over her, undoing my zipper as she blinks up at me, mouth open in surprise. But there it is, that spark in her eyes, that blush on her cheek that I’ve missed so much.
“Jesus,” Jesse’s voice whispers as I hear him getting tugged back down the hall. I could give a fuck less if they watched, nothing was stopping me from taking her right now.
“You love me?” she repeats, as I pull my cock free from my boxers and push her sweater dress up and out of my way. My body tightens at the tiny scrap of her underwear, almost laughably covering her pussy as I shred it in a moment with my hand.
Emma licks her lips before I descend on her mouth again, stealing her breath away as if I have the right to take everything from her. I lower myself, pinning her to the bed, and pull her leg up by her thigh to wrap around my waist.
“I do. I fucking need you,” I say, the desperate need to claim her bleeding into my voice.
And wouldn’t you know, she responds to it like such a good fucking girl, pulling on my hair so that her lips can dance along my jaw, my neck.
Her mouth finds the pulse point at my throat and I fucking lose it, grinding myself against her center as I tear the neckline of her dress and suck violently on her nipple, forcing her body to arch into my mouth.
I have almost no control over my hips as they grind against her center.
I’m too busy drowning in the sweet little sounds she makes as her voice breaks on each moan and gasp.
“You’re mine, Angel,” I growl, and it almost sounds like a threat as I rise up again and place a hand on both sides of her waist, right above her spread legs, and yank her closer so that her wet arousal is placed perfectly against me.
“Mine.” I thrust inside her, still feeling part beast. “Fucking mine, you beautiful girl.”
Her heads falls back to the pillows, eyes rolling as I fuck her. And I can't get enough. It still isn’t enough to hungrily take in every inch of her I that I can see around the shredded little sweater.
Emma’s legs start shaking in my hands as she looks up at me, that sweet, tortured look on her face that makes everything else that’s going wrong in my world fall away. It doesn't matter, as long as she never ever stops looking at me exactly the way she is right now.
“Say you’re fucking mine, Emma,” I demand, continuing the punishing rhythm that has stolen her words away. “Tell me you belong to me.”
“I am, I’m yours,” she whimpers, her voice breaking when my thumb rewards her with pressure on her clit.
I fold forward, hungrily taking her mouth in mine again, the words ricocheting in my head like a victory bell. “You’re goddamn right you are,” I growl, thrusting inside her. My hands slide up her sides to hold her beautiful face between them. I bite her lip and she moans, and the sound of it…fuck.
Emma is the sun, and being inside her like this is the only thing that makes sense. The only thing capable of beating back my darkness and making it glow inside my dead ass heart.
It hurts when I think about it too much. She’s perfect. And she’s letting me—all the fucked up, angry, sharp pieces of me—inside her. I might never be Prince Charming but I will protect her with my life. Happily. Easily.
Her body tightens and I drop my eyes to hers as they start to go hazy, her wild cry piercing the air in the room as I thrust into her like I’ll never get the chance to feel her around me again.
Her stomach muscles pulse as she comes, and I’m drunk on the sight of her.
The sound of her. Everything about her. Her pussy squeezes my cock, and I sink my teeth into the soft skin of her shoulder.
“Fuck,” I groan into her skin, thrusting with shuddering finality as I release inside her. When she starts to come down, her hands softly rub the back of my neck. That strawberry hair of hers fanned out like a bright halo on my pillowcase. Fucking beautiful.
Our shaky breath is all I can hear, and one of her hands rises to my face, fingertips tracing along my brow, down to my mouth where she runs her thumb along my lower lip. I nip at it and she gives a breathless laugh.
“You mean it,” she states, and there’s the shadow of a question in her eyes.
Here goes nothing. “I love you, Em.”
She chokes on a surprised laugh, a tear falling from her eye and rolling down her face as she leans up to kiss me. “I love you.”
I lose myself in it, in her. In the weight of what we know now. She thinks I’m just declaring my feelings, but I’m declaring that I would throw myself in the fire if it means sparing her.
So I kiss her like we only have tonight.