Cold-Blooded Beautiful (9 page)

My father.  My husband.  Two self-proclaimed gods immersed in their own lethal capitalistic world, spoke over my body as I lay still and silent; too lost in their greed to look at me, care, or to shed a fucking tear.

My fists clenched tightly as I thought about what those fucks had done to me.  What my
father
allowed to happen, and what
David
did. I knew them
now
, and what brand of monsters they were, and I knew it could have been, should have been, so much worse for me.  Yes, that is what I thought, because, seriously, let’s get this straight… I should have died.  Reality folks; the shit he put inside me would have killed most people.  I like to think I lived because I was meant to save people, and that I was meant to be greater and do more.  Everybody has his or her own measure of worth, and that was mine.
God had my back, not David’s.

For hours, I pretended I was asleep on that hospital bed, lying as still as death.  I waited for Jen to come, and when she did, I told her everything.  My voice was barely audible, dry and cracking.  “They are trying to kill me…you have to get me out of here.”

Her eyes shined with tears, “But you…honey…you tried to…”

“Jen,” I fumbled for her hand with my trembling one. “Go…to Mana Storage…Jersey…I can prove…”

“You’re serious?” She leaned her head low.  “Honey, you tried to commit…”

“Jen!” I hissed desperately.   My breathing faltered, eyes sprang with tears, “He did this to me.  Please believe me.”  I looked in her eyes. 
Please believe me
.

Weak and humiliated, I begged her to help me get discharged, or to escape. 
And she did
.  Jen ran down to the ER and found our homeless friend, Mr. Carson, one of the hospital’s
repeat attenders
. You know the people, the ones who continuously try to come into the emergency room with an array of ailments for a safe place to sleep, and a meal.  She offered him all the money inside her pocketbook to lie in my bed with the sheets over his head, until someone realized he wasn’t me.  With two hundred and fifty three dollars rolled into a dirty sock, he crawled under the white sheets, wearing a giant toothless smile.  Then Jen helped me walk right out of that hospital, without anyone seeing.

But that’s all over now. 

Well, you got your little glimpse of David’s brand of abuse.  I could tell you so much more, little details that would make you cringe, but you know what.  I don’t want to
think about it anymore
.  You still want to know though, don’t you?  Think of the worst shit you’ve ever heard, and multiply that by three weeks, turn up the heat and let that simmer in your brain for a minute.  Honestly, that’s not the story I want to be a part of. It’s not the story I want to be remembered by, and I don’t want to be known as a victim, ever.  I want to be remembered for my story with Kade, for my achievements in my life, not for some piece of shit that abused me.  Besides, they are my scars,
mine
, and those horrible things I lived through still
hurt
. But, do you know what scar tissue does for your body?  Makes you stronger and tougher.  Makes you realize that every breath you take is a gift.

I know I should not have lived.

I should not be alive right now
. 

Yet I was.  I was alive and safe with Kade. 

The man who could turn darker than he already was,
because
of my scars.  Because he wants to own them, take them on his flesh to erase them from mine, but he can’t.  They were too deep inside me.

I stared out Kade’s bedroom window, watching the first rays of the sun lighten the wintery sky.  “Hey,” he said softly,  “come to bed with me.”

My eyes glanced over his bandaged knuckles, and a cold shiver ran down my spine.  Closing my eyes, I tried blinking away my tears.  Kade Grayson was the only man I’d willingly give my tears to, because I knew he’d never want them, or take any joy in them.

“Hey, hey.  No, no, Sammy, baby,” he pleaded, cupping his hands around my face and gently swiping the tears with his thumbs.  “Don’t cry for me, love, please.  I fucked up.  I went crazy.  It’s just a few scraped knuckles, Sam, you saw it.”

“We are both so messed up, Kade.  How are we supposed to deal with this? How am I going to help you deal with this?”

“Together,” he said, touching his lips against mine. 

His answer was so calm, so final, and so
wrong
. I knew there was something so very wrong, because I could taste the guilt on his lips.
I knew Kade
.  He was going to kill David, and even though I wanted David dead, I didn’t want to lose Kade.  I didn’t want him lost to more violence, shattered by his own actions and demons.  Nor did I want him in jail for something that had nothing to do with him.  It was all over, it was all in the past.  David and my father thought I was dead.  Why did Kade need to know my pain?  He would just be hurt by it.

I couldn’t hurt Kade anymore, I couldn’t.  I needed Kade Grayson away from this whole situation. He still needed time to heal from the tragedies in
his
life.  I just didn’t know exactly what to do.

David Stanton’s venom was spreading into every fragmented part of my existence, like spilled ink on a clean page, staining everything with his filth. His delusions of ruling the hospital world went beyond being the best surgeon, and spilled into categories that are more lethal.  He was sick and twisted, and I needed him to stay as far away from Kade Grayson as possible.  I should have just vanished when I had the chance.  Less people would have been ruined.

“No more thoughts of him, love.  Not when you’re in my bed,” Kade whispered in his husky British accent, slipping warm hands between my thighs. 

Damn it, the accent was melting me
.  The fingers were working their magic too.  “Don’t you talk all Englishly with me, Grayson.”

“
Englishly
?”  He asked, stilling his hands, mouth smiling against my skin.

I loved making that man smile.  “Yes, all accented, hunkified, and kissable…
oh, screw it
…just don’t stop.”

His lips captured mine, and I could hear my own breathing, the small gasps and moans as my body awakened under his touch.  Pulling back his head, raising his eyes to mine, he smirked, “Bring that delicious pussy to my mouth, love.”

And there I went, slipping into our little bubble easily.  Losing myself to a world full of
Kade
, where I was safe, innocent, and yet fucking filthy all at once.  My heart hammered insanely as I straddled him, and a scorching flush spread across my chest and over my cheeks.  I could feel his lips curl into a smile against my flesh, and my body shivered from the want.

Hot breath scorched my damp skin, “You know when I was younger, I used to lick anything I didn’t want taken from me.” 

I smiled, forgetting about everything that wasn’t Kade.

That man’s tongue is a wicked, wicked thing. 

Delicious wet heat spiraled through me.  Kade’s touch was the only thing that ever washed away the contamination that David filled inside me.  Kade made me forget, with his intense eyes, dark obsession, and his touch.  His touch always made me feel cherished, wanted… completely
fucking possessed
.

His tongue slid over me, in me; lips played and teeth nipped.  Wet fingers slipped through, curling and stroking.

Arching my back, I let the sensations coil and build.  “Kade, oh God,” heat fanned out across my belly.  Tangled whimpers and soft sighs filled my throat, until I could take no more.  Before the sweet rumble of release burst inside me, I crawled down the hard tight muscles of his body.  Hovering my warmth against him. His cock slipped and slid under my body, grinding and gliding along my wetness.  Sitting upright, I slid myself over the long, thick length of him, teasing and taunting. Hot hands covered my breasts, fingers twisting and digging into my skin.  Heart pounding.  Flesh burning.

But then he stilled.

Dark gray eyes captured mine.  Unyielding.  Unrelenting.

Sweet,
sweet
anticipation.

I could hear him breathing.

Heavy thick breaths.  My breaths, shallow, and shaking.

His hands skimmed down my skin, rough fingertips grazed over my trembling body and reached for mine.  A trail of heat was left in their wake.  He linked our hands, tangling his fingers with mine, squeezing tightly, and brought them in the space between us.   Pulling his face leveled to mine, we sat still, eyes locked together, my body straddling his.  The way his eyes pierced mine made my throat thicken, my eyes sting with emotion.  An ache stirred in my chest and throbbed for him.

Sliding himself slowly inside me, he tightens the grip on my hands and brings his lips against mine.  The sweet sensation that rocks through my core is so intense, tears well in my eyes.

He rocked into me once, his teeth captured my lips, and his hoarse whisper sends me rocketing through space, “I will erase them for you, I’m going to kill them both, nobody…nobody will
ever
fucking hurt you again.”

The thought, the emotions send me over. Convulsing and shaking over him, and he didn’t stop.  He thrust into me harder and faster, until the stars imploded in my sky, and all I felt, was the inferno that burned from inside him, thick hot and real.  Ruthless.  Savage.  Brutal.

I’m going to lose Kade.

I’m going to lose him to David.

I have to do something
.

Chapter 5

My eyes were still blurry and heavy with sleep, as I watched Samantha climb into her car from the window in my den, dressed with a deep flush on her winter pale skin
.
My laptop hummed softly behind me, surging up to life as I touched the steaming cup of coffee she had left for me to my lips.  She had a day shift at the hospital, which I wondered how she’d stay awake through, because we’d been up all night tangled around each other.  She had stretched and grumbled, then yawned loudly as she left our bed.  When she was out of sight, I shifted to her side of the bed, searching for her warmth. I missed her already. 

That only lasted for five minutes, because she came running back into the bed and flung herself at me to wake up, demanding that she not be the only poor soul awake at that ungodly hour. 

I got up, and of course, watched her dress.  It was like watching porn, in reverse.

Black lace slowly covered her perfect rose-tipped breasts. It seductively slid up her silky legs, and hid her smooth delicious pussy from my view. 

“Now, undress again for me, real slow,” I whispered.

“Shut up, Grayson.” She laughed.  “You should be getting dressed too, instead of slumming it in your sexy-pjs all day, cuddling up under those covers.  Sniffing my soap,” she smirked.

Fuuuuck
.  She knew I sniffed her soap?  Cinnamon-motherfucking-apples.  I bet she doesn’t know about her underwear…
Yeah, can you see my smirk?

Anyway, that was the best part of what I did for a living.  Being able to stay home, spin around on my chair in a pair of boxer shorts, and make up imaginary stories, sometimes, butt-ass fucking naked, just spinning on my chair. 
You know you’re picturing it
.

Sam tore out of the house like a tornado, and even though she wore a calm smile as she always did, I noticed a worry in her eyes.  A crease to the forehead.  A meeting of her brows.  So, from the window, I watched her leave, wondering what her thoughts were troubled with.

“Hey, wanker,” Dylan called after busting through the door
without
knocking. 
I’m not sure if I’ll ever get used to having so many people around.  Always
.  It was no joke. Everywhere I turned, someone was
there
.  Four months ago, I would have wanted to blast a bullet between his eyes the moment I heard his foot creak against the wood of the floor. 
I guess I was changing, huh?  Okay, don’t think about the whole den-boxing match from last night, and the man-tantrum I threw at the hospital…bloody hell; I have to call my therapist today, don’t I?  Sod off, I feel like I’m changing.  Growing.  Something.

Dylan stood in my office with arms crossed, waiting for me to snap back to reality.

I squeezed my eyes tight until reality came back.  It was so damn hard, but my thoughts were still on a naked Samantha, riding me hard and deep last night. “We’re going to need some privacy settings programmed to this new living arrangement,” I snapped, clinking my coffee cup down onto my desk.  The bitter hot liquid sloshed over the sides of the mug, and splashed a still steaming splatter of hazelnut across my hand and desktop. 

It made me bloody want to punch someone in the face.  Sam made me that coffee.

Dylan waved my cell phone in the air, “Oh.  Yeah, sorry, but your phone was going off and I thought it would be important.  Caller ID came up as the Sherriff’s office…and there are only so many times I can hear that girlie Pink song go off as your ringer.  Why don’t you change that to something more your speed, like Slayer?” He laughed.