Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
Jennifer
Fear clouds my brain and body, the shock of what’s happening leaving me momentarily immobile against his hold.
I forget how to breathe, forget how to move.
But then everything rushes back to the present, terror bursting through me, and I start to struggle.
The voice is familiar, though I can’t pinpoint where I know it from.
At first, my fear-addled brain thinks Dylan found out I told my dad and somehow tracked me down, but then the fog clears and I remember he’s dead. He can’t get to me.
But someone else has.
My legs flail out in front of me as I’m lifted backward, my eyes blowing wide and heart pounding while I’m dragged into the dark, dead-end alley beside the stairs to my home.
“You thought I forgot about your sweet little ass, and how it rubbed all over my cock?” The man tsks and then chortles, his hot breath gross against my neck as he drags my struggling body. “I’ve just been biding my time.”
Dread fills my belly as it occurs to me who the voice belongs to. The disgusting creep from the club. The same man Mase stopped from getting to me.
Nausea curdles in my stomach at the feel of his clammy hands on me, and the thought of them trying to touch me in other places.
I try to scream, my body thrashing under his grip, but his hand muffles the sound.
“You see, girly, I’ve been watching from my window, so I know your shadow won’t be turning up tonight. Trouble in paradise?” He chuckles again, kicking a random can aside.
My shadow?
Mase.
“Bet you didn’t realize that I live just down the street, did ya?”
Heart hammering, I feel a rush of panic spread through my limbs as we move farther from the street. No, this can’t be happening again. If only Mase were here as my shadow tonight.
My mind almost collapses in on itself, turning paralytic from the terror—a defense mechanism, I realize, to keep my mind from suffering further.
Defense mechanism.
Defense.
Self-defense.
The word triggers my brain into action.
All at once, I remember each training session I had with Mase, the maneuvers, the twists, the turns, hits and kicks.
All the strength I’ve built up at the gym has been for this exact type of situation.
I can defend myself.
This man may scare me, but I’m not helpless.
Mase’s smooth voice fills my mind, instructing me on what I should do under all the different circumstances. I search through the information I’ve gathered, looking for the best option.
Against my natural instincts, I force my body to relax and stop fighting as much, enough to throw him off, then I wait for the creep to loosen his grip.
Noticing my lack of fight, he pauses. “You falling asleep, girly?”
He snickers, then shakes me a little, but I don’t react, not until I feel his hold on me slacken.
And then it’s go time.
There’s enough space for my mouth to open under his hand and my teeth to clamp down on his palm. At the same time, I kick back into one of his kneecaps, hard.
“Ahh, fuck! You bitch.”
Surprised, he drops his hold on me, but I don’t give him a chance or time to react.
I spin around and kick him in the groin as hard as I can, and when he bows over in pain, I grab the back of his head and slam my knee into his face, feeling the crack of his nose.
Next, I strike the back of his neck with my elbow, and he collapses to the ground.
Stumbling back a few steps, chest heaving, I stare at him with wide eyes.
Holy shit. Did I just do that?
Moaning, he holds his nose with one hand, while the other cradles the space between his legs.
He’s still very much alive, and probably quite pissed.
I’m not safe yet.
The situation comes back into focus, pushing me into action again. I run past him, making my way out of the alley and up my wooden stairs, slamming and locking the door behind me.
This time, I pull my phone out and call the police after jamming the door with a chair, instead of crying on the floor of my newly painted bathroom.
Residual fear and adrenaline course through me as I wait for them to arrive, causing my limbs to feel like they’re made of jelly. My legs are so shaky, I collapse onto the couch behind me.
Shock. I must be in shock.
Fingers trembling, I swipe open the screen again, trying to find the messaging app through my blurry vision, then I quickly send off a text.
Time passes, minutes, maybe longer, I can’t be sure, but then I’m recounting what happened to a young officer with a porn star moustache while his female partner stands to the side listening.
Besides a broken nose, the man, Mark, will be okay, and is being taken into custody. They found him limping down the street with blood dripping down his chin from his nose.
The female officer places a hand on my back once they’re done. “Is there anyone who can come stay with you, or who you can go stay with tonight, so you’re not alone?”
As soon as the words have left her mouth, my front door bursts open, and Mase barges in, worry etched on his face, his body coiled tight.
The moment his dark eyes land on me, there’s the slightest softening to his posture, and he’s stalking across the space to stand in front of me.
It’s been over two months since I saw him, and the sight of him sucks all the breath out of my lungs, replacing it with pure, fresh air.
He’s more handsome than I let myself remember.
Stubble now lines his jaw, giving him an even more rugged look than before, but his black waves, a touch longer, still look as soft as ever.
Then there’s those eyes, dark as night, but filled with so much light as they scan over my face and body, checking. He pauses on my blonde hair, then settles on my eyes. I wonder what he sees now.
The last time he saw me, I was in a hospital bed after he had found me bleeding out on the bathroom floor.
So much shame spreads through me, like ants in my veins.
But it doesn’t have the same effect on me as it once did.
I had messaged Mase with fingers that barely cooperated after calling the police tonight, but I wasn’t sure if he’d come.
He had respected my wishes to stay away, my wishes to break contact.
But he’s here now. He came for me.
Without a word, he cradles my face as if I’m something precious to him, then he’s pulling me into his arms, tightly engulfing my body. Nothing has ever felt so right as being held by him.
His scent soothes me, a mix of cologne clinging to his jacket, and . . . clean sweat.
I pull back, realizing he’s in his workout clothes—in shorts, specifically.
“I was at the gym, and I left as soon as I saw your message. Are you okay?”
Throat clogging, I bury my face into his chest.
The truth is, I’m better than I thought I would have been.
Mase gave me the tools to be able to defend myself tonight. And even though I haven’t been with him, or even spoken to him, over the past couple of months, he’s been right there at the forefront of my mind. He’s been the encouragement and motivation.
And he came straight for me, without even stopping to change.
Belatedly, I remember the officers still in my apartment and angle my head to look at them. “Yes, I will be fine, thank you.” I answer the question from both the female officer and Mase.
Nodding, the officers say their goodbyes, letting me know they’ll be in contact, then it’s just me and Mase left alone.
A beat passes, then two, as we stare at each other. We’re still close, our bodies almost pressed together, and I can’t seem to step away, can’t seem to drag my eyes off him.
I’m sure my heart is trying to speak directly to him with how loud it’s beating right now. I rest my palms against his chest and find that his is beating just as hard. Maybe our hearts are trying to talk to each other . . . or our souls are.
“I’ve missed you,” I whisper.
He releases a breath that’s filled with so much relief that I feel his body sag. Did he honestly think there was a chance I wouldn’t?
“I’ve missed you, too. So fucking much.”
He dips his head to press his lips to mine, and while I’m sure he intended it to be a soft kiss, a reacquainting after so long, the moment our lips touch, electricity sparks, bringing everything to life.
The kiss switches gears in an instant.
My mouth parts and his tongue plunges in, seeking mine out to stroke. I moan in return and slide my hands up to thread through his hair, slightly tugging and making him grunt.
I should want to talk to him first. So many things have happened since we were last together.
But I don’t want to stop. I couldn’t if I tried.
I want this connection with him first. Need it.
Mase presses in closer, clearly on the same page, but it’s as if he can’t get close enough.
Our height difference, our clothes, they’re all in the way.
A frustrated huff leaves his mouth as he slips his hands under my ass cheeks to lift me, then he forces my legs to wrap around his waist while he walks us to the nearest kitchen counter.
With my ass perched on the edge of the wooden surface, he crowds into me, kissing me as if it’s been torturous years, not merely months. I feel the same way.
Pulling back with rushed breaths, I slide my hands under his jacket to push it off his shoulders, then I graze my fingers down his back, drawing out a soft groan. Next, I grab his shirt, tugging it up over his head to reveal his gloriously toned and cut physique.
I trace my fingers over his defined abs and the dusting of dark hair that disappears behind his shorts.
Mase releases a harsh breath, his muscles twitching before he snatches my hands away and holds them down beside me, taking my mouth again.
He tugs at my bottom lip with his teeth, then glides his lips down my neck, nipping and sucking at the skin. “I’ve thought about you every moment of every day.”
“You have?”
“Yes.” Yanking at my collar, he bites into my shoulder and starts kissing along my collarbone, then down my chest. “You won’t leave my fucking mind.”
I smile, not in the least bit sorry about it as I enjoy his touch.