Dylan (20 page)

Mother fucker.

I step back, and inhale a much-needed
breath. That was way too fucking close.

“I need to head out. Make sure you put on
some music today. It’ll help her relax.”

June nods on a defeated sigh. She tilts her
head back, and releases a soft, sarcastic chuckle. “Sure
thing.”

This is exactly what I had been trying to
prevent. I don’t need the person who is supposed to care for my
mother pissed at me.

“If you want, I can find someone else to
care for her. I’ll give you a good recommendation.”

June drops her head until she is looking at
me with wide eyes. “Are you firing me?”

“What? No. I just meant if you’d feel more
comfortable—”

“Shut up, Dylan.” She interrupts me. “I’m
not going to let this interfere with my job. I am more mature than
that. Give me some fucking credit.”

Great. I nod, but don’t say anything else.
It would have been inconvenient to find another nurse, but I would
have. I turn, and head for the door. I need to see Raven.
Everything seems better when I’m with her. I won’t mind at all if
she
wants to play nurse. After the morning I’ve had, I could
use a little babying. Just not from June.

I walk to the garage, and climb into the
Camaro. I probably shouldn’t be driving with one eye almost swollen
shut, but I don’t have a lot of options. The engine purrs to life.
I pull onto the street.

The feel of my cell phone vibrating against
my leg reminds me that I had passed out on Mom’s sofa last night
after loading myself up with liquor and painkillers, so I still
have my cell phone in my pocket.

Carefully, I maneuver it out of my pocket,
and practically slam on the brakes when I see Ethan’s name flashing
up at me. I jerk the car to the side of the road, shifting into
park as I answer the phone.

“Tell me you have him?” My voice is shaking
as the words travel through the line.

“Sean’s at the warehouse with Ronan and
Ardon, but, D, he’s in pretty bad shape.” The relief I felt with
Ethan’s words settles into a knot of dread as he finishes
speaking.

“How bad is it?” My grip on my cell tightens
as the dread grows, and rage flares to life.

“It’s bad. He was unconscious when I found
him, and he hasn’t woken up.”

“Shit!” I slam a fist against the steering
wheel as the anger inside unleashes itself.

“You need to go see him, D. It’s not looking
good.”

“I’m on my way.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Raven

This is not
how I imagined seeing Dylan again. I thought that the next time we
saw each other we would talk about the way things had been left the
last time I’d seen him. The night I had asked him to stay, fallen
asleep in his arms, and woken up with him gone. I had texted him
last night, and this morning, and gotten no response.

So, imagine my shock as I open my bedroom
door to see him standing on the other side. He looks like hell. His
usually handsome face is bruised, one eye is practically swollen
shut. His sandy hair, t-shirt, and jeans are plastered to his skin
from the rain outside, and I can just make out the fresh trail of
stitches running down his bicep right beneath his clover
tattoo.

I don’t mean to, but my hand jumps to my
lips on a slight sob that I hadn’t been expecting. Seeing him beat
up like this tugs at something deep inside me, and it feels like
someone is punching a hole through my chest.

“Oh my God, Dylan. What happened?” My voice
sounds shaky even to my own ears.

I’m sure a scared, crying female isn’t
exactly what he wants to deal with after whatever trauma he just
endured, but I can’t seem to stop the tear that slides into the
corner of my eye.

Dylan doesn’t speak as he steps into the
room, and closes the door behind him. He reaches for my wrist, and
tugs me gently to him until I can feel his solid, wet body against
mine. A shiver works through me. I don’t know if it’s from the cold
or because of him. He smells even more amazing then I remember, and
his dark scent fills my head making me feel almost dizzy.

I’m not surprised when he leans down to
press his lips against mine. What surprises me is the desperation
in this kiss. It’s nothing like our first kiss. His firm lips are
moving in a rushed pace, and his tongue is sweeping into my mouth
in long, measured strokes. Heat courses through me as I entwine my
fingers through his hair. The groan that falls from his lips has my
heartrate skyrocketing.

I don’t realize we’re moving until I feel my
back fall against the mattress. I don’t have time to think about
what’s happening before I feel his body press firmly to mine once
again. The heat that’s coursing between us is intoxicating, and I
find myself letting him pull me further into him.

When his hands slide under the thin material
of my tank, I can’t stop the soft noise that leaves me as the tips
of his fingers brush along my heated skin. His touch is unlike
anything I’ve ever felt before. It feels wrong that such a simple
touch can elicit such primal noises from me.

“Let me have this, Raven.” Dylan’s hands
wrap around my narrow waist, and squeeze. “God, I need you.”

As Dylan’s strained words break into the
physical haze I had been under, reality makes an abrupt appearance.
I hadn’t allowed myself to think about what was happening. I had
just gone with it. I’m thinking about it now though, and it’s like
dumping a bucket of ice water over my skin.

Suddenly, his position on top of me seems
more threatening than it should, and as he lays soft kisses against
my collarbone. I feel like I’m suffocating. Without thought, I push
roughly against his chest. He lifts himself up to look at me. I
suck in a deep breath and scramble out from under him.

My chest is heaving harshly, and sweat is
prickling at my skin. I feel like a caged animal, but the cage
isn’t real, and Steven isn’t here. I know that Dylan wouldn’t hurt
me. So, why am I acting like a complete psycho?

“What’s wrong, Raven?”

I shift my eyes wildly around the room
before finally locking them to his burning green gaze. Even with
the heavy bruising, he is still amazing to look at. The sickening
leer I expect to see on his face is nothing more than a look of
concern.
This isn’t Steven, Raven. This is Dylan.
My
subconscious reminds me. I can feel my tense body start to relax
now that I’m no longer being held under him, and I’ve had time to
get my head right. Now all I feel is embarrassment.

Now what? How do I explain all of this to
him? I hate that Steven ruined this for me. I’ve never felt the way
I feel about Dylan for anyone else. I’m terrified of what he will
think if I tell him what Steven did to me.
When
I tell him?
Fuck, Raven, you’re going to tell him? Now?

Dylan rounds the corner of the bed,
squatting in front of me so that I am now looking down at him. His
eyes are darker and filled with something I can’t quite
explain.

“I’ve told you, Angel, if you aren’t ready
we can wait. I’ve just had a really bad couple of days, and I need
to be with you. Even if all we do is cuddle. However, you need to
explain what just happened. Angel, my mind is running all over the
fucking place, and it terrifies me.” Green eyes never leave me as
he pleads for an explanation to something I know he’s not ready to
hear.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and start to shake
my head no when I feel his finger brush against my jaw. My eyes pop
back open to meet his. The words start spilling from my lips before
I have a chance to give them anymore thought.

“It’s not you. I want this . . . with you. I
just . . .” I don’t realize I’m crying until I feel his fingers
move across my skin to wipe my tears away.

“Don’t cry, Angel. It’s ripping me
apart.”

I sniffle, letting my eyes roam over every
inch of his perfection. Even in jeans, a t-shirt, and with messy
hair he looks beautiful, but there is something else there.
Something I only catch glimpses of in his tormented eyes. For some
reason this beautifully tortured man wants me.

“I just— I have had a bad experience with
men.” That’s a complete understatement.

Dylan’s brows shift into a frown. His hand
stills. “Explain that.” His tone is uncertain, but I know that if I
want this to work, I need to be completely honest with him.

“My mother’s husband raped me.” The silence
that falls over us drops like lead into the pit of my stomach. I
can still feel the vomit rising in my throat with the images that
flash through my mind.

Dylan just stares at me, and his silence
only adds to the dread unfurling inside and erupting into my chest.
As I move my eyes down to look away from his face, I notice his
hands are fisted at his sides. I instantly look back to his face,
and realize it’s not disgust that is reflected there. It’s anger.
He’s angry.
At me?

“Please say something.” My voice is even
softer than usual, and I have to clear my throat to be heard.

He blinks. Once. Twice. Then he stands. “He
raped you?” It’s not so much a question as a harsh statement spoken
through his tightly clenched jaw, but I nod. “How many times?”

My jaw drops, my eyes widening.
Instinctively, I start to shake my head. I hadn’t expected this
question, but I should have. I don’t want to answer this.

“Answer me, Raven. He was your mother’s
husband, right? So, I’m assuming he lived with you, correct? So,
how many times did the sick fuck touch you?”

I don’t even think my heart is beating
anymore, or it’s beating so fast I can’t feel it. I can feel the
blood drain from my face as the pain in my chest squeezes tighter.
The words “Too many.” Slip from my mouth in a quiet acceptance. I
can’t look at him anymore, so I lock my gaze to a picture of Harper
I hung up on the wall this morning.

Uncle Jim had taken a picture while they
were at Disney World. Her ponytail is swishing against her back,
and she is walking in front of him. The sunlight seems to come
directly from her as she holds an ice cream cone in her small
hand.

“Fuck! Raven, look at me.” Dylan’s voice is
tinged with a hint of desperation now, but I can’t.

I had never thought about how it would feel
to tell him about this. I had thought he would be disgusted with
me, but I think I am more disgusted with myself. I can’t stand the
thought of touching myself, so I can’t imagine Dylan wanting to
touch me now.

Without thought, and in some kind of haze, I
find myself walking into the attached bathroom. I push my sleep
shorts down my hips before I pull my top over my head. I turn on
the hot water, hearing Dylan’s deep inhale from behind me.

“Fuck, Raven. What are you doing?”

I ignore him, and climb into the shower.
Once I’m under the scorching spray, the water falls harshly against
my sensitive skin. I hear the thump of Dylan’s head as he rests it
against the glass shower door, but I can’t move my gaze away from
the dark tiled wall of the shower.

“I’m sorry, Angel. Please, talk to me. I
didn’t mean to react like that. I just hate that someone hurt you.
I want to fucking kill him, Raven.” I can hear his deep breath, and
then he lifts his head. I hear the shuffle of clothes, and
something heavy being set on the counter. Then the glass door is
sliding open, as Dylan steps inside.

My greedy eyes instantly take in the sight
of him, and I inhale sharply. His body is lean, and ripped to
perfection, but there are scars. A raised, jagged line runs along
his lower ribs on the left side, and there is a smaller scar just
above his heart. It’s small and round, and not very deep. Dylan has
a bandage covering his lower leg, and I can clearly see the
stitches on his bicep now. Even with these slight imperfections,
he’s gorgeous. If anything, the scars only make him more
handsome.

I can’t bring myself to look below his
waist. Even when he leans closer to reach behind me and turn the
hot water down, and the cold water on, I keep my gaze on his chest
until he squats down to meet my eyes with his own.

“I would you know? I would kill him for you.
In fact, if you tell me where he is, I’ll kill him right now.”

I want to laugh, but I can tell by his hard
voice and serious eyes that he means it. “You can’t kill him,
Dylan. He’s in jail.”

“I’d rather hear he’s dead, but I can work
with jail. I swear he will never get close to you again. I’ll be
right here to keep that promise, Angel. I’m not going
anywhere.”

A small smile slips onto the corner of my
lips. I may be disgusted with myself, but Dylan still wants to be
here. I need him to make me forget. I need him to replace Steven’s
touch. I don’t want to see Steven when I look at my body. I want to
see Dylan.

I finally allow my eyes to drop, and the
sight of his long, thick erection has me sucking in another deep
breath. Steven wasn’t that big, and Steven hurt me.
Don’t think
about Steven, Raven!

Bending my knees, I lower myself to place my
lips against the hard ridges of Dylan’s abdomen. His harsh inhale
emboldens me to move my lips a little lower for the next kiss.
Dylan’s hand grip my shoulders gently, and he pulls me back up to a
standing position. I look up into his confused gaze.

“What are you doing, Angel? We have plenty
of time for all of that. There’s no rush.”

“I want you to make me forget.” I’ll never
lie to Dylan. In this moment I know that above all else. I need to
use him, and I need him to let me.

“Fuck, Raven. Do you have any idea how
fucking gorgeous you are right now?” He runs a hand through his wet
hair harshly. “I’m trying to be good, to do what’s best for you,
and here you are looking like a fucking goddess with water
cascading down your skin. As if that’s not enough temptation you
tell me you want me.” Dylan pauses to draw air through his parted
lips. “I don’t know what the right thing to do is, but I know that
I’m going to give you whatever you want, Angel, every part of
me.”