Brave (11 page)

My
breathing harsh against her ear, I gripped her around her slender
hips, locking her against me, my body thrusting, driving, urgent
against hers. Alissa clung to me, and the glorious feel of her
against me sent my senses reeling into a mindless need as she
struggled to get under my sweater and shirt to my skin.

Dragging
her hands up my naked back, her fingers digging into my straining
muscles as she twisted her body against mine, trying to bring me
closer, tighter, harder.

Grinding
out a guttural denial, I dragged her head against my neck, then hiked
her higher, holding her immobile against me, my embrace viselike.
Alissa stilled as she must have realized I was carrying her toward my
bed.

She
uttered a keening cry and convulsively tightened her hold when I
tried to separate her from me. A tremor coursed through me, and I
buried my face against her neck, my hand spanning her head. On a
shuddering intake of air, I braced one knee on the mattress,
steadying our combined weight as I carried her down onto the bed, her
legs still locked around me. She sobbed out her need as I collapsed
on top of her, my weight settling heavy in the cradle of her thighs.
Sensations and emotions raged through me, and she flexed her legs,
thrusting up against me, an incoherent need evident in the tautness
of her body. I met her urgent thrust with one of my own, the clothing
that separated us the only obstruction against the breaking storm.

My
breathing harsh and out of control, I twisted and grasped her leg,
trying to break her hold. “Alissa—honey, let go. Let go.”
I shuddered, then pulled free, my voice hoarse and desperate. “Your
clothes—damn—Alissa, help me, babe.”

She
turned her face against my neck and let her legs go slack, heat and
hunger and urgency making her writhe against me. My touch was rough
and frantic. I stripped away her jeans and she yanked my sweater and
shirt over my head and bared my back to the cool air.

I
shivered, my skin burning hot, and felt a tingle of pain, as if a
colder wind was blowing across broken and bleeding skin.

My
chest heaved, even as she struggled with the rest of her clothes. I
fought it, but it was no use. The grayness swamped me and I jerked my
head up.

The
rebels had taken us to their camp and tortured us for a week, trying
to learn about the next shipment of drugs. But we had known nothing
about it. They chained us, but Elsa broke free, and it was as if that
was all they needed. Dr. Sanchez screamed her name and I watched as
they grabbed her and took her down to the ground, the light of lust
in their eyes.

I
felt Alissa’s hands on me, but her voice was drowned out by
Elsa’s frantic and desperate screams. The man with the scar
walked over to me, and I dropped my head to try to avoid what I knew
was coming, but he grabbed my hair and jerked my head up, saying in
French. “Watch and I’ll let you have a turn.”

A
man held her arms as she kicked out with her legs, her feet, but they
subdued her. Four men to one small, beautiful woman who I’d
promised to protect. I elbowed that scar-faced bastard in the face,
my gut roiling with sickness and fury. I screamed. “No. You
fuckers! Let her go! Let her fucking go!”

But
they ripped her dirty scrubs off her hips, and I shook with fury,
disgust and my fucking helplessness when one of them undid his pants
and knelt down on top of her and shoved himself against her. Her
screams were deafening, her cries twisting me into something ugly and
dangerous.

I
pulled harder as the next man took his turn and her cries got weaker,
her screams fainter.

Dr.
Sanchez broke free then, and one of the rebels clubbed him until he
lay still in the mud. I heard something in the distance…gunfire?
I couldn’t be sure. She’d stopped moving completely when
a fourth man covered her. She turned and looked at me, the utter
emptiness of her eyes set the demons free in me and they howled with
a ferocity that I couldn’t control.

The
last man took out a knife and plunged it into her chest. Then he
froze as more gunfire whizzed across the compound. His head exploded
and his body dropped across Elsa. I shut down, my gut writhing with
my defenselessness, my horror and rage. I couldn’t go any
further and frantically shoved those memories away from me like a man
fighting for his life.

I
looked down into her eyes, my chest heaving, tears I hadn’t
realized were running down my face. I scrambled off her, the desire
in me freezing into something sick and twisted. I couldn’t do
this now, not with the memory fresh and new inside my head. I
couldn’t stain her with that filth.

I
tried to bolt, but her arms came from behind and locked around my
heaving chest. I wanted to end this. I couldn’t be with her,
not with Elsa’s brutal gang rape a constant reminder of how I
lost myself in the mud and blood of the Ivory Coast.

“Oh,
fuck. Make the pain go away,” I cried and broke away from her
as I took a few steps, but then I didn’t know which way to go.
I just wandered around the room lost in my agony.

“Dakota,”
she said, so softly, her voice breaking on my name. I turned toward
her, needing her more in that moment than I had needed anyone in my
life. She ran to me, locked her arms around me.

I
grabbed her around the waist and slid down her soft, welcoming body,
sinking to my knees, my burning, wet face pressed to her belly.

She
buried her hands in my hair and held me against her. It felt as
though she was my only lifeline and she was fighting to keep me
alive, like I had fought to keep Elsa alive.

“They
raped her,” the horror in me made me whisper. I’d never
said it out loud before. “They killed her and I couldn’t
stop it. I couldn’t stop it, Alissa.” My throat
constricted and I sobbed against her. “I promised her I would
protect her. I promised.” I couldn’t tell her the rest of
it. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to see her eyes change and
the shock of the blood on my hands mirrored there.

She
knelt down. She took my face in her hands and forced my eyes to hers.
Hers were streaming with tears and something I didn’t dare
define, because my heart was breaking…breaking.

She
peppered my face with kisses. Quick short ones, then longer ones,
until she found my mouth. She brushed at my tears with her thumbs.
“Stay with me tonight. Promise me you won’t leave me.”

I
sent my hands into her warm, fragrant hair. “Seriously? After
that you still want to be with me?” I said, my voice broke.

“Yes,
Dakota. Promise me.”

“All
right.”

“Say
it.”

“I
promise.”

“I
know you always try to keep your promises,” she whispered.

As
I had unraveled, she now proceeded to remake me, knit me together,
like the elusive, elven creature she resembled, with starlight and
promises, and dreams and aching hope. She urged me to stand and
slipped her hand around mine. I followed her and stood still while
she unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, pushing them and my briefs off
me.

Then
she urged me down into the bed, drew the blankets over us and wrapped
her arms around me.

“Don’t
leave, Dakota, please,” she begged. “Don’t leave
me.”

For
a long time, I was nowhere. Just breathing. Breathing was effort
enough; it seemed my chest could not hold sufficient air to allow my
brain to think or my body to move. So I simply let myself lie safe
and warm in her arms.

Slowly,
small realities intruded on my consciousness. My body was hot, silky
skin pressed against me from my neck and down until it twined with my
legs. The sensations crystallized into a thought.
Alissa
.
I mumbled the word, turning my head. With an effort I lifted myself
onto my elbow and looked down at her.

She
stirred, her hair a wild tumble of starlight on my pillow.

The
crisis was forcing me to make a decision. I was so fucked up. I
needed to make a change. I needed to be something more for her.

She
opened her eyes and stared up at me. “You didn’t leave
me.”

“No,”
I said. “I don’t ever want to leave you.”

“Good,”
she whispered against my shoulder, burying her face into the hollow
of my neck, breathing deep, kissing my collarbone, sending shivers of
pleasure rippling throughout my body.

“Did
you love her?”

“Who?”

“Elsa?”

“No.
I barely knew her. I didn’t even know her last name. Not until
I was rescued. She was a good nurse and a sweet person. And she was
so scared. I just didn’t want anything to happen to her or Dr.
Sanchez. We were all that was left of that camp. Its legacy.”

She
took a deep breath. “Can I show you something, Dakota?”

“Yes,”
I said. “You can show me anything, tell me anything, babe.”

“Could
you get the light?”

I
reached over and turned it on, blinking a little until my eyes
adjusted. She pushed her arms outside of the sheet and blankets and I
saw the fine white scars. As a nurse, I knew exactly what they were
and how she got them.

Alissa

I
bared my arms to him. I wanted him to see the scars that were part of
me, to know that part of me. Because he had shown me what he believed
was the ugly part of him.

“Oh,
Alissa.” He met my gaze, his expression drawn. He gently
smoothed his hand through my hair.

“I
knew you would know immediately what they were, because I’m
sure you’ve seen them before.”

“I
have. How old were you when you started cutting yourself?”

I
looked up at him and his arms tightened around me. “Ten,”
I whispered.

“Oh,
God. Alissa.” His voice was raw with compassion.

The
memory was old and had lost its power to hurt me, especially here in
Dakota’s tight embrace. “I was so empty most of time.
Everything seemed so neutral. My mother never looked at me and
actually saw me.
Saw
me. She just saw a child she never wanted, a stranger. I was a
mistake. She never actually said it, but I always knew. My parents
are selfish, emotionally bankrupt people. I felt like I was going
invisible, disappearing. So, after the first time, it hurt, yeah, but
at least I knew I was alive, that the numbness in me wasn’t
going to take over and make me like them. My parents are extremely
wealthy, but all the money in the world doesn’t make a
difference. They don’t love me. They never will.”

“I
don’t know what the fuck is wrong with them. You are so lovable
and sweet, kind and gentle. A beautiful soul. They are idiots if they
can’t see all your beauty.”

I
nodded. “Thank you for saying that. I tried to believe it was
true, but sometimes I would lose that part of me.”

“How
did you stop?”

“Charlie.”

“Your
friend.”

My
love for Charlie welled up inside me. “Yes. My BFF. He saw the
blood leaking through my shirtsleeve, and he got very upset. He made
me promise not to do it ever again. He gave me a cell phone and told
me in no uncertain terms that when I felt sad, to call him. We would
talk. He was so amazing. He saved me from that. In return, I had to
text him pictures of my travels so that he could experience what I
experienced and live through me.”

“He
sounds like a great guy. I’d really like to meet him.”

A
hollowness opened up in me, but I filled it with the warmth of
Dakota. “That was the year he gave me the Pooh backpack.”

He
smoothed his hands over my arms. “Thank you for sharing that
with me, sharing something so personal. I’m thankful you only
did it once and that Charlie was there to help you to see what a
wonderful, caring person you are. You’ll have me as a friend,
too.”

“I
don’t want you to be my friend, Dakota.” Hoping he could
see the absolute sincerity in my eyes.

He
laughed, and it was the perfect sound for what I’d just
realized was Christmas Eve.

“Tomorrow
is Christmas. I have something for you, but tonight I want the gift
of you. Will you give that to me? I’ve already done a great job
of unwrapping you.”

He
laughed again and I let the sound wash over me.

“I’m
not sure I can find any condoms, Alissa.”

“Yes,
you can…unless you don’t want to make love to me.”

He
rolled against me and I felt the hard length of him. “Does that
feel like I don’t want to? Only it’s been a long time for
me.”

“Feels
like everything is working perfectly.” I reached down and
smoothed my hand over him and he arched and thrust against my palm.

“I’m
afraid…afraid of the flashback, of that ugliness in my head.”

I
brushed my thumb against his mouth, my voice just a little uneven as
I spoke. “You won’t think about it, not tonight, not when
it’s my gift. You belong to me tonight, not to your demons, not
to Elsa, and not to those bastards who mistreated you and hurt you so
badly. We both have scars on the inside and out. But you belong to me
now, and I’m going to take you. I want you so much.”

“I
told you I’m no hero, Alissa. I’m just a man…just
a man.”

“I
know you are a man. You are so, so…brave.”

“Brave?
Do you really think so?”

“Yes,
and you taught me how to be brave. Tomorrow I can do what I came to
do.”

“What…”

“Shhh,”
I said, pressing my mouth against his, kissing him softly. “That
isn’t about tonight. Tonight is about my gift of you. Just you,
Dakota.”

I
felt raw and exposed, and at the same time it felt wonderful to
experience those feelings while I was in his arms, the warmth of him
surrounding me. A man who knew how to be vulnerable and strong. His
muscles were hard, and I caressed the heavy ones on his arms and
across his wide chest. He sighed against my temple, his mouth
brushing at my hairline.