Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Wade
The helicopter touched down on the estate's private pad. Thomas was waiting at a respectful distance when I finally stepped out, Marie cradled against my chest. He took one look at the blood on her clothes, on my shirt, and his expression went carefully blank.
"Sir."
"Handle the cleanup," I ordered quietly, adjusting my hold on her when she stirred slightly. "And make sure the guest in holding is alive. I'll be there later tonight."
He nodded once, understanding exactly what I wanted. "The house is secure. Sylvia has prepared the master bath for you.”
I carried Marie inside and went straight up the stairs. Honey was waiting outside the bedroom door, tail wagging frantically when she saw us. She whined, trying to get close.
I bent for a moment, so Honey could smell her, and she got a few licks in before I stood back up. I didn’t need her getting dirty from Marie’s clothes.
“I’ll bring you to her later.”
Inside the master suite, the late sun was pouring through the windows. The bathroom door was open, steam rising from the filled tub, round and deep, positioned so you could see the ocean while soaking.
I shouldered through and set Marie down on the countertop, steadying her when she swayed.
"Marie, darling. Look at me."
Her eyes opened slowly, unfocused and glassy with exhaustion. But they found mine after a second, and I saw the moment recognition hit.
"Wade," she whispered, and the sound of my name in her hoarse voice was everything.
"I'm here." I cupped her face, thumbs stroking her cheekbones. "I'm going to clean you up, okay? Get you into the warm bath."
She nodded mutely, leaning into my touch.
I reached for the hem of her sweater, soaked through with his blood. She lifted her arms automatically, letting me peel it off. Her bra followed, then her shoes, jeans, and underwear, each piece stiff and stained and going straight into the trash.
Beautifully naked, she looked smaller. Dried blood flaked off her hands and forearms, but underneath all of it, she was strong. Alive.
"You stabbed him," I said, unable to keep the pride from my voice as I ran my hands down her sides, checking for injuries I might have missed. “You put a kitchen knife right in his gut and twisted it. My fierce girl."
Her eyes welled up, but she didn't cry. Just looked at me with a vulnerability that made me want to burn down the rest of the building for her.
"Come on." I stood, offered my hand, helping her step into the tub.
The water was warm enough to soothe but not so hot it would make her dizzy. She sank into it and settled against the side, knees pulling up slightly, gaze drifting to the view.
The ocean beyond the glass was turning pink as the sun dropped toward the horizon. Marie stared at it as if trying to memorize every color.
I stripped off my coat and rolled up my sleeves, and knelt outside the tub at her back. I reached for the cup Sylvia had left and dipped it into the water.
"Lean back a little, darling."
She did, tilting her head, and I poured the warm water slowly over her hair. It ran down in rivulets, turning pink where it hit dried blood.
"Just the scalp," she mumbled, voice soft and distant. "Soap the scalp part. Not the braids."
A smile tugged at my mouth despite everything. Of course she had instructions, even half-asleep and traumatized. “Understood.”
I worked carefully, wetting her hair section by section, my fingers gentle as I massaged her scalp. She let out small, contented breaths and leaned into the touch, her shoulders dropping from where they'd been hunched up near her ears.
"Honey was so worried when you left," I shared, keeping my voice low and soothing. "She scratched at the gate, trying to follow you. She’s the reason I knew you left.”
Marie's breath hitched. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry." I poured more water, watching it sluice over her twilight skin. "You were trying to protect me, to make sure I didn't see those videos. I understand why you went."
"But?"
I paused, my hand stilling in her hair. "But I would have preferred you to trust me to handle it together instead of walking into danger alone.
" I resumed the gentle massage. "I'm not angry, Marie.
I'm proud of you. So fucking proud I don't have words for it, but I need you to promise me you won't do that again. "
She was quiet for a long moment, staring out at the sunset. "I promise."
"Good girl."
I soaped her scalp, working the lather through with careful fingers, then rinsed it clean. I moved to her shoulders, her back, running my hands over every inch of her skin to wash away the blood, the fear, and everything that had touched her today.
Of course, I’d been half-hard since I'd stripped her clothes off, and kneeling here, watching the water run down her bare skin wasn't helping. I adjusted myself discreetly and focused on the task—taking care of her, not taking from her.
But then she turned, twisting in the tub until she was facing me. Her eyes found mine first, just my eyes. Something passed between us in that look. Warmth, protection, love.
A connection that didn't need words.
Then her gaze drifted down. Over my chest, my stomach, the blood staining my white shirt from where she'd pressed against me. Lower, to the obvious bulge straining against my pants.
Her gaze stayed there, and her pupils dilated, her lips parting slightly.
"Marie," I called, voice dropping an octave without my permission. "What is it, darling?"
Her eyes flicked up to mine, hazy and wanting. “I want you,” she whispered. "In here with me."
My jaw tightened. "That's what you want? After everything today?"
She nodded, never looking away from the front of my pants. "Please, daddy. I just need you."
"Alright." I stood, my hands going to the buttons of my bloodstained shirt. "But there's something you should know first."
Her gaze followed my movements as I stripped the shirt off. "What?"
I paused with my hands on my belt, watching her face. "Castellanos is still alive. Kyan's keeping him that way in one of my buildings. I'm going there tonight to make sure he pays for everything he did to you."
Her expression shifted, something dark flickering through those eyes before uncertainty took over.
"I wanted you to know," I continued quietly. “To be aware. If you want to say something about it, now's the time."
She swallowed hard, her hands gripping the edge of the tub. "What are you going to do to him?"
"Make him suffer.” I said it plainly. "Make him understand what he took from you, from all those women. Make him feel a fraction of the fear and pain he inflicted."
Her breath caught, and her eyes dropped to the water. "I shouldn't want that," she whispered. "Should I? I shouldn't—it makes me like him if I want you to hurt him. If I want him to suffer."
My heart squeezed at the fear in her voice. At how she was trying to make herself small and good when she had every right to want blood.
"No, darling." I leaned back down at the edge of the tub, reaching into the water to cup her face. "Wanting an evil man to face consequences for his sins doesn't make you like him. It makes you like me."
Her eyes went wide.
"You think I'm a good man?" I stroked her cheek with my thumb.
"I'm not. I've done terrible things to people who deserved it and some who probably didn't. But the difference between me and him is that I hurt people who have hurt others first. He hurt the innocent.
You're not like him, Marie. You're like me. "
"But I—" Her voice faltered.
"Do you love me?" The question was unexpected, but I needed to hear her say it, to understand why she trusts me. "Do you love your daddy, darling?"
Her breath hitched. Tears welled in those beautiful dark eyes, threatening to spill over and track down her cheeks. She nodded once, then again.
I stood fully, my hands finding my belt again. "Then trust me to handle this," I urged quietly, unbuckling it. "Trust daddy to make sure the man who hurt you never hurts anyone again."
I pushed my pants down, my cock springing free—fully hard. Her gaze locked onto it immediately, and her expression intensified with need. A hunger for something to ground her.
I stepped into the tub, the warm water rising around my calves. But instead of sinking down, I settled on the wide rim, spreading my knees.
"Come here, darling." I reached for her, fingers trailing over her wet shoulders, up her neck, along her jaw. "Come to daddy."
She moved between my thighs on her knees, the water sloshing gently around her, her eyes never leaving my cock.
I traced my fingers over her lips, soft and plush, parted slightly. "Is this what you need?" I asked, my voice low. "Need daddy in your mouth? Need something to make you feel safe?"
She nodded, leaning forward slightly, and I cupped the back of her head gently.
"Then take it, my little darling. Take what you need from me.”
I guided her forward, and her mouth opened wider, lips wrapping around me as I slid past them.
The wet heat made me groan low in my throat, but she didn't bob her head or work me over.
She just held me there, lips sealed around my shaft, tongue resting against the underside, eyes drifting half-closed.
This wasn't about getting me off. This was comfort.
And fuck, it felt perfect.
“Is that better?” I soothed, my hand gentle in her wet hair, the other braced on the edge of the tub. “Nice and warm? Keep daddy right there, darling. You're doing so well."
She hummed softly around me, her hands coming up to rest on my thighs, just touching, anchoring herself.
I stroked her hair, watching her shoulders relax, watching the tension bleed out of her frame.
"You know what I'm going to do to him?" I asked quietly, keeping my voice soothing. Keeping her mind occupied. "I'm going to make sure he understands what he took from you. From every girl who walked through that place. I'm going to make him feel it, Marie. Every bit of it."