“I didn’t,” I plead with him as tears slip down my cheeks. He doesn’t believe me. How could he not believe me? “I didn’t,” I try to speak, but I don’t know if the words even come out. So much fear consumes me at this moment that I’m light-headed.
Help me.
He creeps closer, the bed dipping as he does. “Just tell me the truth and I will figure it all out, Braelynn,” he nearly whispers.
I don’t know what to say, or if I’m even capable of speaking as the events of yesterday play back, faster and faster. Declan says something, but I can’t make it out. There’s only the iron cage, the freezing water. I can’t hear anything as it all whirls by. So quickly all I can hear is the memory of my own screams.
“Tell me,” he nearly yells as I see Nate murder Scarlet.
My hand whips out in front of me. I don’t mean it to. He’s just so close and I’m so scared. My palm burns as the slap rings out and breaks the visions, bringing me right back to the here and now. Shock overwhelms me.
My eyes widen as I realize the fear I felt before is nothing compared to this new terror. Slowly, ever so slowly, Declan turns his head to face me, the red handprint on his cheek evidence of what I’ve done.
DECLAN
Ilet her scramble to get off the bed. I let her fall to the floor as she pleads with me for mercy. I let her scurry under the bed, hiding there as I remain perfectly still where I am. I don’t allow a muscle to move.
The anger simmers and a sense of failure seeps into me. Failing her, failing us. Everything crumbles when I lose control and I obviously lost it before, but I will not again.
For the sake of her life, I don’t allow myself to even breathe as she cries out for me to forgive her, her voice muffled from beneath the bed frame.
My poor little pet.
Every jagged piece of my brokenness feels for her. I remind myself of my conviction, of the only way she makes it out of this alive: If she gives herself to me, she will be fine. She needs to be mine and then everything will be all right.
There’s not a sound in the dark room apart from her heavy breathing and the pounding of my racing heart. The ability to keep calm and levelheaded has never been more difficult.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she murmurs in a strangled way.
With every ounce of self-control I possess, I carefully remove myself from the bed. I’m sure to step toward the opposite side of where she is so shifting my weight doesn’t harm her, and to give her some distance between us. With slow, deliberate movements, I walk to the other side of the room, press my back against the wall and carefully lower myself to the floor.
Cross-legged and with my head resting against the wall, I let my gaze fall to the shadowy space where she’s concealed.
“How did you get yourself under there, my little pet?” I question loud enough for her to hear me. Exhaustion wars inside of me with every mixed emotion I feel.
Failure rings the loudest in my mind. Failing my brothers, failing her just the same.
All because I lost control. I was too weak to take care of her myself.
“I’m sorry,” she manages to say but doesn’t answer my question. She’s resisting my authority and untrusting. She’s terrified.
That’s how I told her to feel, isn’t it? Yet again, more evidence that I caused this. It was all in my control and then I gave it away. That won’t happen again.
I flex my jaw to dampen the sting from her slap.
With both hands resting on my knees, palms up, I tell her calmly, “Come here, Braelynn.”
Every second she hesitates anger stirs within until disappointment eventually settles through me. I have to remind myself she’s scared because of me. I did this to her. The only one I have to be angry toward is my fucked-up self.
“Come here, be a good girl for me,” I calmly command her, keeping my voice even and with a soothing edge. Time ticks by slowly with her mounting defiance.
Her sniffling is heard from the right side of the king-sized bed. “Please don’t make me wait any longer, my little pet. My patience isn’t what it typically is …” I swallow down every emotion elicited as the past forty-eight hours flick through my mind. “I’ve barely slept and I know you haven’t either.”
The floor creaks as she carefully starts to emerge from under the bed. Her large dark eyes peer up at me and the look in them wrecks me. Genuine fear and genuine sorrow leave no room for anything else.
Her lips are parted as she takes in short inhales, her shoulders shaking with each one.
I watch as the cords in her throat tighten and she swallows, just at the end of the bed, almost out from under it. Her breasts are covered by her long curly hair, tangled from sleep. Even in this moment, with everything that’s happened, my cock hardens and aches for her as her naked body crawls to me.
“That’s my good girl,” I murmur, focusing on her gaze. “Come here,” I add and pat my thigh before was arranging my hand like before, in a way designed to make her feel safe.
She doesn’t make me wait long before pausing in front of me.
“In my lap,” I command her and she does as she’s told, fitting herself between my still-crossed legs, submissive to an extreme degree. Her breathing is anything but calm, and now that she’s in my lap, she struggles to look at me. She doesn’t lean against me and her gaze is glassy.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers and her voice hitches at the end. As she covers her mouth, I think to keep from losing it, I readjust, rocking my hips to tilt her into my chest, bringing my arms around her to comfort her. Her breasts press against my chest and I hold her there, running my hand up and down her back in soothing strokes.
Her relief is instant as she collapses against me, clinging to me like she did hours ago. I might be bad for her, I might terrify her, but I’m the only escape she has. She will learn that it is enough. I will be enough for her. “Shhh,” I hush her, resting my chin on her head as she leans her cheek against my shoulder. With a kiss to her temple, I hush her again.
It doesn’t take as long as I think it will to calm her.
“I’m sorry,” she says again, her body relaxing more with every passing minute.
“What is your safe word?”
She stills when I ask her, but she answers just the same, “Red.”
“I want you to use it more often … when conversations become difficult. Whenever you feel overwhelmed or in danger. At any point. It isn’t just for sex, you know this. You should have used it a moment ago. You know that, don’t you?”
She nods into my chest, but I pull her away to look her in the eyes, gently but with a firm hand. Staring into her deep brown gaze, I wait for her to truly look at me. “Tell me you understand.”
“I do,” she whispers and for the first time, there’s a flicker between us. Something raw and undeniable.
“Give me your hand,” I order, holding out my own. I don’t break eye contact and although her lush lips part and her chest rises and falls faster, she brings her left hand up and places it into mine.
“No, the one you struck me with.”
Her body tenses in my hold, but she does as I command. Slowly she maneuvers in my lap to place her right hand into mine. Our locked gaze never breaks, not even as I bring her fingers to my lips and kiss the tip of each one.