Chapter 21—Tommy #2
I know how he works. I’ve even accepted and played by the rules he likes. But not now. Not with her. He doesn’t get to interrogate her as if she means nothing. As if she had a plot or ploy in any of this. He can do that shit with me or anyone else for all I care. But not her. Never her.
“We’ll talk later,” he mumbles before he goes to his men.
I just pull Payton closer to me, holding her tight to cool my internal rage that our night went from okay to royally fucked up.
“What’s the plan, boss man?” Dante asks as he moves from the couch to stand in front of me.
The plan? I had so many plans for tonight, but all that went to shit.
“Going home.” I nudge Payton, and she rises as if out of a dream.
As she moves away from my space, I unlock the desk drawer and pull out the rest of the books I store in it. Standing, I grab the rest from the drawer, then take the ones off the desk and walk to Danny.
“Look after these for me, will you?” Despite my earlier rage at him, I still trust him. More than anyone else in this room. If my books was on the desk, that means my secure area isn’t that secure. It could have been Carl who pulled them out, or someone else. Either way, I’m not leaving them here.
He takes them with a nod, then looks behind me.
I turn to see what pulled his attention and watch as Payton shimmies out of her torn dress, letting it fall to her feet before stepping out of it.
She gives it a brief look of disgust, as if it was the reason for what happened.
That leaves her standing in the rose vines that rise along her calves toward my black jacket.
It covers her just below her top thigh. A fashion statement if there ever was one, but something I know means very little to her.
“Let’s go.” I reach out my hand for her.
With even steps, she meets me at the door and walks with me, hand in hand, out of the room that will no doubt bring her nightmares. And me as well.
The drive home is uneventful. Just what I need. My phone buzzes a few times, but I don’t check it. It’s texts, nothing more. If it were something urgent, I would get a call. Depending on who it is, the ringtone changes—Danny’s way to inform us that we should be on alert.
But no calls come through.
Payton keeps her eyes closed the entire way back.
I know she’s not sleeping; her hands keep flexing, and the twitching in her body lets me know she’s waging a war within herself to try not to think about what happened.
But each twitch of her leg as it strikes out at an invisible force tells me the memories are winning.
She’s steady on her feet as she climbs out of my car and walks with me to the elevator, stepping in and taking up minimal space till we arrive at my main floor.
She takes a few moments, but eventually she exits and goes into the living room.
Like the first night I brought her here, which seems so long ago though it’s only been a few days, she stands and stares at everything.
But unlike last time, I doubt she sees anything.
“Be right back,” I murmur softly as I move quickly to my room. I walk into my attached bathroom and turn on the water for the tub, checking the temperature before going to my closet and opening my safe to put my guns away.
I noticed her flinch when the Kings had them. Then again with me tonight. She freezes and cowers in fear at the sight of them. Hearing two go off by her probably sent her already-fragile body into further shock.
Returning to the bathroom, I pull out a few things that I dump into the tub before loosening the top three buttons on my shirt and undoing my cuff links to roll up my sleeves as I return to the living room.
She’s standing still, arms wrapped around her, holding herself together and yet still falling apart. She’s a vision, bruises and all, and hearing that she tried to fight off Carl just makes her that much more awe-inspiring.
“Come.”
I say it loud enough for her to blink out of her own thoughts and move toward my voice before her eyes lock on mine. When she gets close, I turn and lead her into my room and to my bathroom before turning off the water after checking the temperature once more, confirming it’s to my liking.
I look back at her. She’s standing, watching, but not moving. So I do it for her.
I close the distance between us and unbutton my jacket, then slowly lower it to the ground.
She’s in nude panties and a matching strapless bra.
But that’s not what I’m looking at. I’m looking for more marks on her porcelain skin.
More flesh marred by hands that should have never even come close to touching her.
My eyes travel her body, noting each mark, every new bruise as I walk around her, only stopping once I’m facing her again. I give her a nod. Not one she returns, but it’s for me, not her. I’m nodding that she’s okay. Bruised and banged up, but nothing time and rest won’t heal.
“Get in,” I tell her, then turn my back, giving her space and time to decide to disrobe completely and climb into the tub.