Chapter 27
The guys agreed to give me the night and the moment I walked through the door, I was moving fast. My pulse hadn’t come down since earlier, and I was wired.
Every sound in the house felt amplified and sharp.
The creek of the floorboards, the thud of my shoes against the stairs matched my chaotic energy.
I didn’t bother with lights. The hall blurred in fragments. I needed to see her, touch her, and know she was okay. I still couldn’t get the image out of my head of being drowned by that asshole.
The moment I reached the door, I paused outside to catch my breath. A sudden stillness overcame me as I stepped into Kinsley’s old room. My breath caught in my throat. The sound of running water snapped my head toward the bathroom door.
I walked toward the sound and had to pass the bed. The soft, muted light of the room revealed the small form of a child. I froze. Blonde spikes and the most innocent little face peaked out from the duvet. Asleep in the enormous bed was my son.
He lay there, small and vulnerable, cocooned in warmth and safety. Tucked under his arm was a worn teddy bear. His tousled hair was just like his mama’s. His features, even in sleep, stole my very breath. I approached cautiously to get a better look at him.
Would he have his mother’s eyes or mine?
He looked just like me. There was no denying it.
Long lashes fanned out like tiny feathers against his smooth cheeks.
His brow furrowed and then evened back out.
A soft sigh greeted my ears as he sank back into the blissful oblivion of sleep.
I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming rush of emotions—awe, joy, pride, and a profound sense of responsibility.
This was my flesh and blood.
A surge of love and protectiveness hit me unlike anything I’d ever known could exist. It was one thing to know others felt that emotion, but to experience it firsthand was wildly different. I gazed at the sleeping child, the one I said I never wanted and wanted to kick myself for my stupidity.
I vowed to spend the rest of my days ensuring that he would never know the pain and darkness that his mother endured. I’d erase every one of Cameron’s memories from his mind. My son deserved a world of love, security, hope, and acceptance. He would find all that, and more, here with all of us.
With a heart full of newfound purpose and love, I drew even closer. Careful not to disturb him, I leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.
“My son,” I whispered in awe.
Outside the little breathy sounds coming from the sleeping child, silence pressed in around me, thick and unreal.
For a second, I just stood, trying to breathe through the rush of relief and the lingering fear tangled in my chest. I needed to see the woman who had made me a father.
Straightening, I forced myself upright and crossed the distance to the bathroom door.
The knob was cool beneath my hand as I twisted it and pushed the door open. She stood there, deep in thought, more than likely disassociating from the day’s events. She wore nothing but a towel.
The sight of her stopped me cold. Her left eye had nearly closed, the surrounding skin puffed and discolored. There were angry shades of violet and blue bleeding into the pale of her check. Every bit screamed of the pain she endured.
Handprint marks marred the flesh around her throat, and I wished I would have killed him right then and there. Instead, he sat safely in a jail cell, at least for the moment. Seeing her beaten only made me more determined to ensure his death was slow and as painful as I could make it.
“Angel?” I closed the distance between us in two strides.
She blinked in confusion. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and the left was more bloodshot than the right.
“Andrew,” she breathed my name as if in a daze. Her voice sounded strange. “I was going to take a bath,” she murmured. Her gaze shifted down to the bathtub.
I shut the faucet off, and the sudden lack of noise broke through her haze. She blinked several times rapidly, clutching the towel with one hand. She appeared surprised by my presence, almost.
“Let me help you,” I offered.
Something akin to fear flashed in her eyes. I reached out. Her body flinched, and mine tensed in response. I lifted her gaze.
“What did he do to my girl?”
Her teeth caught her bottom lip, holding back whatever trembled beneath the surface.
Shame flickered across her face before she dropped her gaze.
Tangled blonde tresses fell forward like a curtain, hiding her features.
The sound she made broke me. It was tiny—barely more than a breath that turned into a sob.
My hands twitched uselessly at my sides. I wanted to pull her close, to tell her it was all over, that he’d never touch her again. But all I could do was see the damage of what he’d done. Of what I hadn’t stopped in time.
“I need a bath or shower or something. I feel dirty and disgusting.”
Did he rape her? Guilt hit first, hot and choking, followed by a fury so sharp it blurred my vision. Beneath it all, tenderness ached in my chest, fierce and unrelenting. I fought my inner demons, trying to quiet them to some extent.
She was here. Hurt, but breathing. Whatever he’d done outside the beating, we could get through it. Whatever she needed, I’d see that she received it.
“Would you close your eyes while I get in? The lights are bright in here.” Her voice sounded tight.
For a heartbeat, the air between us was unbearable. Every instinct warred inside me. The trained parts knew she needed space, to not crowd her pain, but damn if the man in me didn’t want to pull her into my arms and never let go.
My voice was low. “I can close my eyes. Would you prefer for me to wait in the bedroom for you? I can give you all the space you need.” The words fell from my lips and felt so wrong, but it wasn’t my choice to make.
“No Sir,” she cried, reaching out for me. “Please, I do-don’t want to be alone.”
Something inside me broke loose. With an ache in my chest and a sharp exhale, I moved. Relief—pure, dizzying relief—washed through me, leaving my knees weak. On instinct, I gathered her in my arms, and she dissolved into tears, shrinking in on herself.
Fuck, this wasn’t good. I held her for a few minutes.
“You came for me,” she breathed.
“Awe, angel. Of course I did.”
“Please don’t be mad.” Her voice cracked, and she sounded so small. Her hazel eyes searched mine. “I never wanted to go with him. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to save Jenny, but I couldn’t. I didn’t kill her. I promise I didn’t mean any of the words I said.”
She was all over the place, which made sense for what she had gone through. “Shh, I know. You did what you had to do. I’m not mad. That’s not my style, at least not with my pretty girl.”
She slumped deeper into my arms, and I held her for another minute. The water was going to get cold if she didn’t take advantage of it now. I slowly peeled the towel from her body and helped her into the water. She sank down, her shoulders disappearing below the foam of bubbles.
Settling myself next to the tub, I wrapped my arms around my knees. I needed her to know she was safe from any type of touch she might not want. In a comfortable silence, I studied her as she closed her eyes and laid her head back. The bruises were more prominent in this position.
“Your jaw is clenched Andrew, what is it?”
My eyes met hers. I hadn’t realized I’d looked away. In my mind, I was torturing Cameron.
“I don’t like knowing he hurt you and that I didn’t get there in time to stop him from…from—”
“He didn’t. He couldn’t. At least not until he hurt me good enough. You got there in time.” Her small hand snaked out of the water and reached for mine. “Do you want to join me?” A pretty blush crossed her cheeks.
“I shouldn’t. Not tonight. You’ve probably got some pretty confusing thoughts running around in here.” I traced her forehead lovingly. “We’ll have plenty of time to bathe together,” I said, tucking a wayward piece of hair behind her ear.
“Please?” she begged.
I stood, having made up my mind that whatever she asked me for, if it was within my power to give it to her, I would.
I had become a completely different person.
So much of my life was compartmentalized, counselor and therapist, brother, friend, and grandson.
It was as if the part of me that was just simply Andrew, a man like any other, had been waiting for her all these years.
Stripping off my clothes, I spoke, “Move forward.”
Nodding, she did as I asked. I slowly got in behind her and brought her back against me.
My cock roared to life at the feel of her warm flesh.
I tried to ignore it and kept my focus on her.
She lay against my chest. I moved her hair to the side and kissed her neck softly, as if I could somehow kiss the pain and bruises away.
“So I hear you met Ivan,” I teased.
“I did. He’s huge. You should have warned me. I don’t think he likes me very much. Who were the others?”
“The one dressed for the gym was Sebastian. Ivan’s bark is worse than his bite. Trust me on that one. You’ll meet everyone else tomorrow.”
She moved my hands to her breasts. My brows raised, but I’d be a fucking fool not to follow her lead. My fingers moved without hesitation to her nipples. I rubbed them between my fingers lazily, and she moaned. Fuck, I needed to keep it together, but once more she had me feeling feral.
“Umm, yes, we should probably talk about that,” she moaned as I pinched and pulled at her now hardened buds.
“Is that what you want to do? Talk?”
“Yes, Sir, please. I think it’s important, don’t you?”
I moved my fingers away from her nipples and laid them flat against her stomach. “Talking is always important in my book, angel. So let’s see, shall we discuss the miniature cherub lying in the bed out there first?” I asked.
Her breath caught in her throat. “Surprise?” she said hesitantly.