Chapter Seven #2
"What else did you do at work this morning?" I ask, brushing hair away from her face so I can see every little tremble.
"M-Mostly read," she whispers.
I lean forward, tugging her book from my back pocket. "This book?"
She jerks her head in a shaky nod.
"What do you like about it?"
"I don't know."
I make a sound, turning her head until she meets my gaze. "You know, baby girl. Give me that sweet voice."
"I…I like the way he sees her," she whispers, her voice halting. "I like the way he t-treats her. Even when everyone else in her life doesn't really know who she is, he does."
"Who is she?"
"Me." She bites her lip. "I mean…she isn't me, but…"
"But you see yourself in her," I murmur.
"Yeah." She nods. "She doesn't have a family either. I guess I can relate to that."
Fuck. I knew her family wasn't around, but pieces are beginning to align, and I don't fucking like the picture they're painting.
"And I guess…I guess I relate to w-wanting the things she does," she says, her voice a scrap of sound.
"What kind of things?"
"Family, security," she whispers, her voice shaking as she looks up at me. "Um…a…"
"A Daddy," I say.
Her head jerks in another nod, more sharply than before.
"Good girl," I breathe, brushing my lips across her temple. She melts into me, resting her head on my shoulder.
"I've never told anyone that before."
"Me either."
Her wide eyes meet mine again. "Really? You've never—?"
I hold her gaze, letting her see the truth for herself. "It's just you, Sarah."
Her lips part, her expression soft with awe. Even though I promised myself I wouldn't push too far or demand too much, I can't help but kiss her. She's looking at me like I just gave her the world. I have to taste her awe.
She sighs against my lips, opening for me. I take a tiny taste, just enough to make my cock beg for another taste of her, and then pull back, groaning.
"You're too damn sweet, baby girl. Too sweet."
She likes hearing that. She smiles up at me, and I'm pretty sure I'd rip the world apart just to see her smile at me like that every day.
"Can I ask you a question?" I ask, leading her out to her car after lunch. We lingered at the table for well over two hours. Sarah didn't say much—she never does. But I'm finally figuring her out.
If she doesn't say what's in her head, she doesn't have to let anyone close enough to hurt her.
I think she's probably been hurt more than anyone even realizes.
"Yes," she says, drawing to a stop next to her car.
"What happened to your family, baby?"
She flinches, paling slightly.
"It's okay," I murmur, pulling her into my arms. "I'm right here."
She clings to me for a long moment. "My dad and grandma raised me," she says, her voice soft. "But there was a fire…"
"You lost them in a fire?"
She nods, and my heart clenches.
"My c-cousin and uncle, too. I barely got out."
I groan, pulling her into my arms. They shake around her. Jesus. She was there, trapped in the flames while everyone she loved died around her.
I'm not a man who cries often, but I want to fucking weep for her.
"How old were you?"
"Thirteen," she whispers.
Goddammit. This is what she's been hiding. This is what's been hurting her. And she's been carrying it alone for years. Not even Olive knew.
"I'm so fucking sorry, sweetheart."
"M-me too."
"What about your mom?"
"I never had one. I mean…I have one. I just…
" she sighs, shrugging a little. "She left when I was a few days old and never came back.
They tried to find her after…well, after my dad was gone, but I don't think she wanted to be found.
I ended up in boarding school instead." Her smile is tenuous.
"I guess that's the silver lining to being a bookworm.
They thought it was a better place for me than a group home. "
Judging by the way she says it, I'm not sure that's true. God only knows what she went through there. But I understand a little better now.
There was a sailor in my unit with a past like hers.
It didn't matter what people threw at him; he just carried it silently.
Nothing we did haunted him. It was the other shit he struggled with—being part of a team, letting himself relax, talking to people.
Those were the things he couldn't master, almost like he was afraid to let himself believe he could get close or let his guard down.
I only realized why when I read his personnel file and saw what he'd been through before he ever enlisted.
The battlefield was never his war. It was rebuilding himself from the wreckage of navigating a world that doesn't care enough about the children left behind.
That shit doesn't cause scars; it carves fissures right across your soul.
Sarah's war is the same. Her silence is armor, forged because it was the only weapon she had back when she needed an army.
I can't give her that…but I can lend her the strength of a retired SEAL. The heart of one, too, if she'll have it. She'll never have to carry a goddamn thing, grieve, or hurt alone, ever again. When she can't carry it, I'll carry her.
"Thank you for telling me," I murmur, kissing her softly. I don't have to ask to know she's never told anyone. If she had, Olive would know. The fact that she doesn't tells me everything I need to know.
Sarah falls into me, letting me ground her with my lips on hers.
When I pull away, the ghosts of her past don't linger in her eyes. The only thing there is heat and the same softness that wrecked me last night.
"You still coming to my place tonight?" I ask her.
"Do you still want me to?"
I tip her head back with my hand fisted in her hair, making her groan. "Yes, I want you. I need you coming on Daddy's cock again, baby girl. I might fucking die if you aren't."
"We can't have that," she breathes.
"No, we can't. Call me when you're off, and I'll start dinner."
"Okay." Her lips curve into my favorite sweet smile. "Bye, Jasper."
"Have fun at Dirty Book Club, baby girl."