She looks down and gives me a small shrug. “Well, I tried apologizing to you and you slammed the door in my face,” she says, her arms hanging loose in defeat.
I raise an eyebrow, not understanding her thought process. “And you thought stripping for me would accomplish what exactly?”
Her cheeks flush. “I'm not sure. I figured I'd just give you what every other guy always wants from me.” She looks down. “Go ahead, Jackson. Take me, use me. Be as rough as you want, just try not to destroy me when it's over.”
I don't know what irks me more. The fact that she thinks she's nothing more than a pack of gum to be passed around and enjoyed by all, despite never actually enjoying it herself. Or the fact that she just grouped me with every other guy she deals with.
I take a step closer to her and lift her chin. “You're too busy destroying yourself, Alyssa. How could anyone else?”
I reach for her arms and lift them above her head. Her chest heaves and I can't help but take in the purple lace of her bra, barely covering her nipples, straining against her breasts and just begging to be released. She sucks in a breath and closes her eyes when my thumb brushes her cheekbone before dipping lower, skimming over that adorable dimple on her left cheek. Which seldom makes an appearance.
She probably thinks I'm about to have my way with her. The goosebumps grazing her delicate flesh and the way her pulse is beating erratically against the pad of my thumb lead me to believe that's what she wants me to do.
And fuck if that doesn't make my own heart speed up. But then I would be like all the others, I remind myself.
Instead, I pick up her shirt and pull it over her head. Her eyes open, uncertainty etched in her features. “Why?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why didn't you?”
I lead her to the couch and drape a blanket over her. “Because I'm not gonna be another notch on your bedpost who takes advantage of your self- destruction.” My voice drops down to a whisper, “And because one day I failed to notice when someone else I cared about was in pain ...and not a day goes by that I don't regret it.”
My hand instinctively lands on my chest and I sigh.
“So, where did you end up going today?” I ask.
I turn my head to look at her when I don't hear a response. Her mouth is parted slightly, her eyelashes fluttering against closed lids, the rise and fall of her chest falling in sync with my own breathing.
I glance at the clock. Tyrone will be home soon...and he might be bringing company.
She looks so peaceful, I don't have the heart to wake her. I gently lift her up, being as careful as I can and carry her into my bedroom. I remove her shoes, flick off the light on the nightstand, and turn to leave.
Her hand reaches for mine. “Stay. Please stay,” she whispers before drifting off again.
I crawl into bed and curl up beside her, my hand never leaving hers.
“No! Daddy! Please, no!”
Her screams are the equivalent of waking up to a shotgun going off. She's trembling so hard, I'm convinced she must be having a seizure.
I jump up and flick on the light beside the bed, her screams quickly turning into muffled cries. I gently nudge her, but she doesn't wake. “Alyssa, you're okay. It's just a bad dream,” I say. I hold her by the shoulders and try a little harder this time, and finally the shaking stops and her eyes open wide.
She looks around the room, confusion marring her face briefly before she realizes where she is. “Oh god. I'm so sorry.” She sits up in the bed. “This is beyond embarrassing.”
Her eyes dart to the door and she makes to stand but I gently pull her back to me. I'm all too aware of how much of a flight risk she is and she's not running away from me this time. Especially in this state.
“This happen often?” I ask.
Her head falls against my chest and she lets out a deep breath before whispering, “Not really. Only when I'm exhausted. Usually, I don't allow myself to sleep that soundly because I know what the end result will be.”
That's when it sinks in that it wasn't just a random bad dream, but a reoccurring nightmare. I tip her chin up to look at me. “What happened, Alyssa? Trust me enough to let me in.” I kiss her forehead. “Please.”
She fidgets and squirms out of my arms. Just when I think she's about to bolt, she looks at me and does the one thing I've been waiting for since I met her.
She drops her armor and opens up to me.
Chapter Ten
Alyssa
PAST
“Really, cupcakes for breakfast, Graham?” my mother cried. “That is not an appropriate breakfast for a 9-year-old.”
I grinned around a mouth full of my heavily laden chocolate frosted cupcake. “But I'll be 10 in two days, Mommy,” I argued. Before my mother could protest further, I added, “And look, Daddy put goblins on them!”
Since my birthday fell on Halloween, my father's nickname for me had always been 'goblin.' Most little girls would have hated it and wished for a nickname more feminine like 'Princess' or 'Pumpkin', but I loved it.
My mother shook her head and looked at my father. A soft smile spread across his face when he walked over to her and held a cupcake up to her lips. “Come on, honey. Take a bite. No one can resist little goblins.” He looked at me and winked. “Isn't that right?”
I nodded my head in excitement. “Do it, Mommy. Please.”
She let out a frustrated sigh before she took a haphazard bite. She pursed her lips and looked at me, her expression much softer than it was a moment ago. “Okay,” she conceded. “Finish your cupcake, but no more. You need to get ready for school.”
My father pulled my mother closer. “You have some frosting right here,” he whispered before he kissed her.
I scrunched my nose and made a face. “But it's my birthday,” I whined, effectively interrupting their moment. “Why can't I stay home with you? Or go to work with Daddy?”
My mother put her hands on her hips and gave me 'the look.' I knew that look well. “Alyssa Ford Tanner. It's not your birthday yet. Now finish the rest of your cupcake and get ready for school.”
Yup, she called me by my full name. She meant business.
I scrambled off the counter top and let out a giggle when my father swooped down and picked me up. “I'll tell you what, little goblin. How about I drive you to school today?”
My face lit up. “You mean it?” I asked incredulously.
All my dad did was work non-stop, especially as of late. Sometimes an entire week or two would pass without me ever seeing him.
This time, it had been almost three whole weeks. I hated it, but he promised me he would be around for my birthday weekend.
I overheard him telling my mother that him and Ford, his best friend, and partner, were working on their most important case and trying to gather intel, but they were encountering some unforeseen problems.
I didn't really understand it, but I knew my father had a very important job.
He caught the bad guys.
However, he never wore a uniform like some of the other officers I saw. Instead, he mostly wore suits to work and participated in things called 'stakeouts' or 'going undercover.' People at work also referred to him as 'Special Agent.' Whatever that meant.