Nobody's Dream (53 page)

“I should have run when I had the—”

He took her upper arms in his hands, pushed her away, and then cupped her chin with the fingers of one hand until she met his gaze.

“None of this was your fault. Those men violated you. Attacked you in the vilest way. I don’t care if you walked through that bar buck-naked. When you said ‘no,’ that meant they were to keep their filthy hands off you.”

She hiccupped. “You believe me?”

“Why the hell wouldn’t I? You’ve never lied to me, and you’re torn up about it to this day. How long has it been?”

“Five years—oh, Goddess.” Her eyes opened wider. “Five years ago, July the sixth.”

Easy to see why all this stuff had come to a head now. She was two weeks away from the anniversary, not to mention all the trauma from being displaced by the fire.

“Anniversaries suck, don’t they? Come here.” He tugged her against his chest again. “Let me just hold you. If you want to tell me about it, I’m listening.”

“I do not want to think about it anymore. It’s over.”

“Is it? After that flashback, I think it’s going to be as raw as the day it happened for a while.” He’d like to believe that kind of pain could be erased from a person’s memory, but knew better.

She drew in a ragged breath. “I guess we can never forget such events.”

“No, but sounds to me like you’ve saddled yourself with a shitload of guilt that doesn’t belong on your back. Want to try and sort that out?”

She didn’t say anything for the longest time and he figured the answer was ‘no,’ until she nodded.

“Whenever you’re ready, tell me what happened, Sweet Pea.”

She plucked at the button on his shirt pocket. Luke decided to give her all the time she needed without prodding. They had all night. He hoped Cassie would finally unload the misplaced guilt. She’d need to if she ever was going to be able to forgive herself.

“We have all night.”

Hell, he could hold her like this the rest of his life, if necessary. She felt so good in his arms.

Chapter Nineteen

C
assie struggled to keep the memories of that horrific night from overwhelming her and spilling out. She did not want to go back to that time in her life. Did not want Lucas to know what had happened. Those monsters needed to remain locked away. Yet the fear clawed at her throat as strongly as it had that night. She almost pushed herself off Lucas’s lap to run.

Dear Goddess, why was she sitting on his lap in the first place? How blatant could she be? On a bed, no less! He could throw her onto the mattress and rape her more easily even than the three men in the cantina.

Why did she not run?

Because Lucas would never do that.

She felt safe here. It made no sense, but for one of the few times in the past five years, she actually believed nothing bad would come from being near a man. How had he penetrated her massive defenses?

His horses. Strange as it sounded, Picasso and O’Keeffe both told her of his patience and kindness. Of course, looking back, she had seen the same in the way he treated her. But if he could be trusted with animals that could never report or prosecute him if he hurt them, then she could trust him further as well.

She closed her eyes, but when the image of the cantina popped into her mind, she opened them again. “I went to the cantina late that evening. After dinner.” The story began spilling out as she hoped by telling someone she could release something pent-up inside her. “My parents thought I was in my room sleeping or studying. I snuck out to meet Pedro because I enjoyed going to clubs in New York with Kitty and thought it would be fun to dance and have a drink or two. I could tell Pedro and his two friends had been there before. Everyone knew them.”

“What happened next?”

“Pedro would not dance with me, so when Luis asked, I pleaded with him to allow me to dance. But Diego cut in. I never would have agreed to dance if Diego had been the one to ask. He scared me. His eyes were cruel. Filled with hatred.”

Lucas’s heart beat faster against her cheek.

“I tried to get Pedro’s attention, hoping he would intervene when Diego touched me inappropriately. But Pedro just kept drinking his beer and flirting with the
camerera
—I mean, barmaid.”

“What happened next?”

“I went back to the table. Pedro was not angry at Diego for pawing my breast…” Lucas tensed, and she stopped. His anger entered her, and she felt fear building up inside her. She reminded herself that Lucas’s response was toward the rapists, not her.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He was upset with me for dancing, even though he had given his permission, and Diego had cut in. I had not asked to dance with him.”

Cassie was too mortified to tell Luke about her aroused state during the dance.

“Breathe, Sweet Pea. What are you remembering?”

“I do not wish to say.”

“Okay. No pressure, darlin’.”

She played with the button on his shirt, swallowing against the lump in her throat. Lucas patiently waited for her to continue, stroking her hair and giving her the space she needed. But all she could think about was her state of arousal that night. “I am too embarrassed to continue.”

“Whatever you’re thinking is affecting your breathing and pulse rate right now.” She realized he had his thumb pressed against the pulse in her right wrist. “Why don’t you take some deep breaths for me?”

She did and released the negative emotions on each exhale.

“One more.” After this breath, some of the fear receded but barely enough to notice.

She continued to play with the button, feeling the heat rise from his chest under her fingertips. Her nipples started to bunch. Panic set in, and she pulled her hand down into her lap. She hoped he would not see her arousal. What was the matter with her traitorous body?

Soap and leather. Lucas’s scent permeated her senses.

Safe.

“I’m here whenever you’re ready.”

He seemed certain she would tell him. He could wait all he wanted, but she was not sure she could. Her face grew heated, only she knew her body was not reacting to anyone but Lucas at the moment.

“Still awake, Sweet Pea?”

How could she sleep when her mind was in such turmoil? She nodded and closed her eyes, but Pedro’s accusing gaze swam before them. She pounded her closed fist against her thigh. Numb. She pounded again. She wanted to feel something.

Anger erupted. How dare he think she was turned on by his obnoxious friend? “No, it was not like that!” She continued to pound her fist wishing it was Pedro she was bruising and not herself.

“Who are you angry with right now?”

Lucas?
She opened her eyes and realized she had been pounding her fist against his chest, not her thigh. Her wrist ached from the impacts. Had she hurt him?

She pulled away and sat up straighter. “Oh, Goddess! I am sorry, Lucas! I did not mean to—”

He chuckled. “You didn’t hurt me, darlin’. Whatever helps you speak the words and let out those long-buried feelings, you just do it.”

Patience. The man had the virtue in spades.

“You do not deserve to be the brunt of my anger.”

“I know you aren’t lashing out at me. Sounds like you pictured in your head that you were landing a few punches against those bastards.”

She shook her head. “No, I thought I was hitting myself but was just too numb to feel it.”

His hand stroked her cheek. “I’d rather you hurt me than yourself. Want to tell me more?”

She stroked his chest where she had pounded against him, hoping to help ease his pain. Even if he would not admit it had hurt, she knew it must have. In a quiet voice that still sounded too loud in her ears, she stared at his chest and asked, “Do you ever feel something so deeply that your body becomes aroused?” Oh, that did not come out right. She met his gaze. “I mean, is there music that excites your senses so much that—”
Oh, Goddess, she could not find the right words!

He smiled sympathetically. “It sounds like you’re saying you became aroused by the music. By the dancing.”

Her breath came out in a whoosh. She nodded and found understanding, not condemnation, in his eyes. “Pedro became angry, jealous. He thought I was turned on by having Diego’s hands on me, but it was not that at all. I detested the man. It was the
music
that excited me. I loved to dance.”

“And you don’t love to dance now?”

She shook her head. “I have not danced since that night.”

Lucas’s hand stroked her back until she was able to breathe again. “Darlin’, it doesn’t surprise me that someone with as much passion as you have would feel the music to your bones. I hope you’ll allow yourself to cut loose again sometime, even if it’s just for yourself and no one’s watching.”

“But I was not just feeling it in my bones. My nipples hardened. Everyone saw my response and Pedro misinterpreted it.”
Oh, no!
What had led her to reveal her shame?

“Sounds to me like he intentionally misinterpreted it to serve his own twisted purpose. To make you think you asked for it.”

She nodded. “He said that. They both did. If only I had stayed in bed where I belonged.”

“You were a young girl wanting to have some fun. Didn’t you say you and Karla went clubbing? How many times did you get raped while clubbing in New York?”

“Never.”

“So why wouldn’t you have some expectation of safety if you were out with the man who was supposed to protect you above all else? How were you to know he was a snake in the grass waiting to strike?”

His hand stopped moving and his breathing became labored. His anger bombarded her and she moved to stand up—to run—but his arm tightened around her waist.

“Let me go, Lucas.” Her breathing became rapid, shallow.

His hand immediately relaxed at his side essentially releasing her, but his words held her in place. “Honey, I’m not one of those animals. I’m not angry
with
you, I’m angry
for
you. But no one is going to hurt you without going through me first. You’re safe here. Take some more slow, deep breaths for me.”

Knowing they would help calm her, she closed her eyes and did as he instructed. He began stroking her back again, and she relaxed even further. “Good girl. Now, when you’re ready, tell me anything else you want to get off your chest.”

Lucas was worse than a bulldog with a bone. Did he not see Cassie was far beyond the point of being comfortable talking any more about that night? She had never even shared this level of detail with Kitty. Why was talking with Lucas different? Something about him, about his presence, made her want to seek this release by speaking the unspeakable.

Calm, controlled, composed.

And beyond patient patient with her.

Not only could Lucas handle more of the horrific details, but she knew he would be there to hold her and help her through the ordeal after sharing her darkest nightmare. He had proven he was strong enough to hear whatever she had to say without judging her or breaking down.

Oddly, she found that she
needed
to show him that his confidence in her ability to share was not misplaced. That she trusted him…

Suddenly, something clicked that she had not realized before. “Pedro was not in control of himself at all that night.”

“No, any man who would sink so low as to rape a woman has zero self-control.”

Until now, despite many counseling sessions at uni where she was told over and over it was not her fault, she had always felt that the rape had happened because of her actions. The “if I had or had not done this, then that would not have happened” messages had consumed her for the past five years. The guilt and shame had eaten her alive.

Instead, comparing the monsters to someone noble and self-assured like Lucas made it clear the rape was all about those beasts trying to brutally dominate her body and mind because they had no control over themselves.

From this night forward, she refused to surrender her own power to her fears.

“What are you feeling now?”

With Lucas’s encouragement and support, she would take baby steps until she could achieve that goal instinctively without having to remind herself.