Irrevocably Mine (Imagine Ink Book 3) (20 page)

“Vidar, but close.”

“Ah, Ragnarock survivor.” Her gaze shifted to Dax assertively and she nodded her head as if contemplating something. “Yep, I can definitely see it. So, does Syn represent Stacy? On second thought, don’t answer. This is beautiful, Daddy.” Her voice dropped with disappointment.

“Well, if you like this, you’re going to love yours. Mind you, the headboard is just a twin, because I did it the year you were ten. However, I put a bigger bed in there the year you turned twelve.” The emotion that overtook her face was unreadable to Dax.

“You…you did that, even though you didn’t know if or when I’d ever be here?” The childlike voice in which she posed the inquiry ripped at his heart.

“Of course, Bug, I never gave up on you coming home. I never stopped looking.” Macy leapt into his arms again and he enjoyed holding her so much, he walked her down the hall with her long legs swinging back and forth as she clung to his neck. Opening the door to her room was bitter sweet. It was a sacred place to him, although she had never slept there. He cleaned it and updated the size of the furniture three years ago, but other than that, it went undisturbed. Now, she would actually sleep here…under his roof.

Macy still clung to his neck and he would be damned if he ended the embrace, so he simply stood there with his daughter dangling from his neck, with her toes kissing the ground.
My Bug is tall, and beautiful. And smart, so freaking smart.
Dax lost himself to his daughter. Her breathing was the only sound and he relished holding her in his arms. For a moment, he felt like she was five again. The spell was broken when she loosened her grip and dropped to the floor, spinning to take in her room for the first time.

His little, not so little, girl, plopped on her bed with joy, giggling and laughing as she looked up at the cheap glow-in-the-dark stars he’d stuck to the dark ceiling. When she started naming the constellations and motioned for his company, he gently lowered himself to the bed and laughed with her. She sat up abruptly. “Is it okay if I draw on that wall?” she asked, pointing toward the opposite bare wall. The off-white expanse was interrupted only by a dresser. “I know exactly what it needs,” she whispered with glee.

Reaching out, he cupped her cheek. “Of course, Bug, you can paint the walls too, if you want. This is your home, your room. Make it your own.” She stood up and twirled with her arms out. Then, she stopped with a stutter step to catch herself from falling, he looked behind him to see what caught her eye.
I almost forgot about the headboard
.

Macy headed back toward it in a state of shock; much like most people did when they took in a piece he carved for them the first time. When they did that, he knew he had listened to the wood and told a story—a story that fit the recipient perfectly.

Dax wasn’t shy or embarrassed as she took it in. Again, pride overtook him. That seemed to be happening a lot with her.

“Wow, this is…perfect. Oh, Daddy, I love it,” she breathed as she traced the lines cut into the white oak. “She’s…beautiful. That’s all I’ve got. I mean, she’s beyond that, but I don’t have…just, wow.”

Barely audible, even to himself, Dax whispered, “Gersemi. Precious thing. Treasure. That’s what you have been to me since I learned of your existence. My treasure.”

And now, she was back where she belonged. With him.

A
s valiantly as
she fought sleep, Stacy lost the fight. The pills, yes multiple, made it impossible. Every time she felt like she was gaining a portion of control, Hank shoved another one down her throat. Trying not to swallow them became impossible. At this point, she didn’t know how many hours she’d been lying in bed with a man she despised.

Hank allowed her bathroom privileges. Of course, she needed an escort to even make it there. Luckily for her, the thought of her period grossed him out to the point he left her in the bathroom to take care of business.

Stacy wasn’t sure what time or even day it was. Passage of time wasn’t marked by a clock but by bathroom visits and pills being shoved down her throat. It had been three and three.

Every time she felt like she was getting a handle on time and her surroundings, another pill followed, except this time. Stacy floated up from the drug-induced bog that enveloped her and started to make sense of things around her. Her inner turmoil with Dax came creeping into her consciousness. Her phone was with John. No court for three days. No one would miss her. That terrifying thought also brought a touch of peace. At least Hank can’t hurt someone else. Everyone she cared about would be safe. And, if she could convince Hank to stop drugging her, she might think of a way out of this.

Hank’s hand, the one with the gun, was inching up her thigh, adding a more disturbing vibe to the thought of being raped.
Think Stacy, think. What is the best move here?
Pretending to be groggier than she actually was, Stacy slightly slurred, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

The gun slowed, but Hank leaned in close, biting her ear before he rasped, “I know you’re not on your cycle, at least not anymore, because I saw the empty trash when I took a piss today. Must’ve been at the end already when I got here. So, it’s not urgent then, is it?” He ground his teeth into her lobe until he drew blood.

“If you don’t consider lying here in a growing puddle of urine urgent, then no, I guess not. You do realize that women have other functions besides bleeding and fucking, yeah?” She knew the minute she spoke, she should’ve reined it back, but it was getting harder and harder to play this game. Pretty soon, she was going to have to cross a line if she didn’t find a better way to handle the current situation, and the new Hank—one she couldn’t seem to get a solid read on. Dealing with him was like dealing with three or four different people, and she didn’t know which until she pushed the right button.

Time to try a different tactic.
Hank always underestimated her intelligence, even thought she slept her way through law school. It used to piss her off, but the truth was, she let him believe that of her, even played into it. Hank had that effect on her then, so now, she would use it. “Sorry, you know meds make me cranky. And hungry. How about I go to the bathroom and get cleaned up and then make us something to eat. We can eat in the living room and watch a movie. You still a big Nick Cage fan? I’ve got almost every movie he ever made.” She knew Hank would like to think she was pining for him all this time, so she added sheepishly, “Still.”

Jackpot
. Hank went all gooey-eyed and dropped his guard for a moment. Now, all she had to do was parlay that into more moments with his guard down until he dropped it completely and she could figure a way to exploit that advantage.
Moment number one.

The kiss was unexpected. She didn’t participate, but she didn’t fight either.
Forgive me, Dax,
she prayed silently while Hank assaulted her mouth. She kept up the pretense of being further under the influence of the drugs.

“I knew you still loved old Hank. Food sounds good, you’ll need the energy for dessert.” Hank waggled his eyebrows in a way that she used to love, but now, just turned her stomach.
And, I just threw up in my mouth a little.
“But, you’re not changing clothes. I remember how fast you are on your feet, and you said the heels slow you down. Besides,” Hanks hand traced all the way from her thigh to the heel, “I can’t wait to feel these digging into my ass while I pound my cock into your pussy, proving to you who owns it.”

And, I just threw up in my mouth again.
My breath will be fabulous at this rate, but hey, at least Hank is the person who has to smell it.
Stacy got up and made her way to the bathroom. After emptying her bladder, she splashed water on her face and tried to think. Hank burst in and took a piss right there in front of her—not a care in the world.

“Ahhh.” He groaned as he pissed. “You know what, babe? I could go for pancakes and sausage. You got the stuff to make ‘em?”

No, I draw the line at breakfast at this time of day. Not for Hank.
She would flirt and she may even have to use her body, but no, never that. Her body was just that, a body. If it came down to it, she would and could do what she needed to, in order to survive, but she couldn’t degrade love like that.

Stacy needed a mental escape, so she thought of how much she loved Dax
.
She knew she was grinning like an idiot, and Hank just confirmed it.

“What’s put a smile like that on your pretty face?” Hank asked as he tucked himself away. Not bothering to flush or wash his hands, he approached her, leaving the gun on the toilet tank.
Moment number two.
Hank gently cupped her cheeks, but as he spoke, he let one hand go exploring south. “Are you grinning at the thought of having this big ole dick deep inside you once again?” By now, his Magellan hand was plumping, squeezing, and pinching her good tit. Of course, Hank wouldn’t dare touch her tainted side except to make a point. She noticed how he still seemed to avert his eyes and not even look at it.

Stacy bit her lip to keep from crying out. Not in ecstasy, as Hank obviously thought, but from the roughness with which he handled her sensitive flesh. All the while, the hand at her cheek remained loose and gentle.
Wow, talk about split personalities
. It was like the hands belonged to two different men.

“Yeah, baby, you like that shit, dontcha? You always did. How I wish I could throw you down and just bust a nut right now, but I’m starving. So, haul your ass in there and make me supper.” He released her cheek and slapped her ass.
There is the Hank I expected
. As much as she hated this whole fucking situation, at least now both his hands were on the same page. Stacy hated contradictions.

“Sure thing,” Stacy purred enthusiastically. “I don’t have the fixings for a big breakfast, but I can do a cheeseburger and fries or meatloaf and mashed potatoes?” She hoped he picked the latter. It was more time-consuming and the more time she had to get the drug out of her system, the better.

“Okay, babe. Meatloaf it is.”
Yessssss.
“And I say we watch Con Air, then Face Off?”
Predictable as ever.
Now, she just needed to walk around him and pass the toilet first, grab the gun, and drill a hole right between his eyes and this would be over.

Instead, Hank tucked her to his side, opposite of the toilet, and snatched the gun on the way out of the bathroom.
Damn it.

Once she’d cut up what she needed for dinner, Hank collected the knives and sharp objects and then tossed them into the footstool storage from the living room. He then moved it to the guest room, put it in the closet and then locked the room, making it difficult to get to them before he could get to her.
Double damn
. Hank slid the TV around and angled the couch, so he could watch both Nick and her at the same time.
Great.

Dinner was awkward, to say the least. A good home-cooked meal on the couch and watching
Face Off
with a sociopath. Like eating with Castor Troy himself. It was a little surreal how she was seeing Hank in a new light thanks to a fucking movie.

Hank pulled her in close, reminding her of the way he used to in the beginning of their relationship. The difference was motive. Not the existence of one, as he had one the first time too, but rather awareness of it on her part.

The food seemed to help with the haze. It could’ve just been the time, but either way, she was grateful. That is, until the doorbell rang. Her heart sank. It could be anyone, anyone she cared about. But somewhere deep in her soul, she knew who it was by the knock that followed, and the flutter in her heart. Somehow, she just knew. She also knew Hank would kill him if he even suspected they had sex or that she cared for him.
Loved him
. Stacy tried to bolt for the door, but Hank gripped her so tightly, she yelped.

Hank covered her mouth with a rough touch and got down in her face. It was then she saw that the crazy was back, large and in charge. “Don’t even think about it. Whoever’s at the door, I’ll drop ‘em if you don’t play along and they don’t leave. Pronto. Got it? So, if you give a shit about them at all, you’ll be convincing. I don’t care if it’s the mailman or your best friend. You’ve got thirty seconds or I aerate their brain.” Stacy was hoping if they just stayed still and quiet, whomever was at the door would go away, but no such luck. “Now, go answer the door like a good girl.”

Another slap to her ass as she made her way toward the door really firmed up that sense of hopelessness. Dax would not just leave, that wasn’t his way. She would have to say something so permanent, so definite, that it would not only break his heart, but hers as well.

Something devastating.

Stacy wasn’t prepared to look into his eyes when she cracked the door and leaned into the opening. He took her breath away. Big Dax was an appropriate name for him in more ways than just his cock. She catalogued every inch of him before she spoke. She had to, because in order to save his life, she had to kill his soul and she wouldn’t get another chance to commit him to memory.