“Fuck.” Zy laughed. “We sound pitiful.”
“I think it’s because we’ve become pitiful.”
“Sadly, I think you’re right. We’ve got to fix that.”
“Amen,” Trees seconded. “Never accept defeat.”
“Ever. Talk to you later, buddy.”
“Later,” Trees said.
Then Zy was gone.
Trees wandered back into his bedroom and watched Laila turn, stretch, then cuddle up to his pillow. His gut kept telling him that the bodies in the EM Security parking lot had something to do with her. He had no fucking idea what, though. How could a woman who was barely five feet tall and had only been a legal adult for a few years be even slightly responsible for this kind of violence? Suddenly, he had a feeling that there were missing pieces to this cartel puzzle EM Security didn’t know…and she might be able to fill in the blanks.
And after last night, wouldn’t she love for him to interrogate her?
He sighed and started slamming back coffee. He had a bad feeling he was in for a fight.
Laila woke to the smell of frying bacon and country music echoing from the kitchen. She stretched, staring at the clock. Ten a.m.?
With a gasp, she bolted upright, then realized she wore nothing except Trees’s enormous shirt.
The night came rushing back. It had taken hours for the ache between her legs to settle so she could finally drift off. But dreams had plagued her after that. Hot ones of her in Trees’s arms, finishing what she had suddenly—and foolishly—stopped last night. Violent ones of her years in Emilo’s compound. Terrible ones of her sister and her nephew in peril.
The last time she’d looked at the clock, it had been nearly four a.m. Exhaustion weighed on her. But she had duties to attend to—dishes to wash and laundry to do. She could not shirk those.
Rising, she tiptoed from Trees’s bedroom and peeked at him in the kitchen, broad and shirtless and muscled, his big, bare feet hanging off the edge of the mat in front of the sink. Wincing, she tried to make her way undetected to her temporary bedroom. She probably looked horrible, and she felt even worse about last night. As soon as she brushed her teeth and changed her clothes, she would be more equipped to face him.
Laila had barely taken two steps before Trees turned. “Morning.”
He didn’t sound angry.
“Good morning,” she said cautiously.
“Breakfast?”
“If you will allow me to do the dishes.”
“Absolutely.”
“Then I will eat.”
“Then come on.” He crooked his finger. “It’s ready.”
“I need five minutes.”
“Food will be cold by then.”
Was he suggesting she sit across the table from him and eat a civilized breakfast without underwear or a bra? “Start without me. I will join once I am dressed.”
Trees dropped the fork he’d been turning bacon with on the stove and approached her. “You’re wearing enough to eat. What’s the real problem?”
“I have on nothing beneath your shirt.”
“I know.” A clandestine glance down told her that aroused him. “I’ve seen it all, little one. More than once. I’ve had my mouth on it, too. But I won’t jump on you, and you can always stop me with a word. Last night should have proven that.”
How could she explain this to him? “What you might do does not worry me. It is the memories… Eating this meal dressed in almost nothing will leave me feeling…exposed, like meals Victor and Hector forced me to endure.”
His eyes narrowed. “Meaning?”
The memories were humiliating, and Laila hated to talk about them. But if she was going to be with Trees until her sister let go of the foolish notion that they were safer apart, she should help him understand. Thus far, he had seemed willing to listen and able to adapt.
“I will feel too vulnerable. The Ramos brothers took great delight in forcing me to various states of undress during meals.”
“Did they fondle you while you ate?”
“Usually. Sometimes, they also made me suck one or both of them while my meal sat on the table, waiting for the moment I ‘earned’ it. It was not uncommon for Emilo and his lackeys to come in and out of the room while I performed these tasks. No matter how humiliated I felt, I was not allowed to stop.”
“Bastards,” he spat. “Did they ever make you service others?”
Humiliation stung. She couldn’t meet his gaze. “Sometimes.”
“Son of a bitch.” Trees looked ready to lose his temper. It warmed her that he seemed incensed on her behalf. “Did Victor and Hector force you to fuck others, too?”
She squirmed, but what good did lying do? “When it amused or benefitted them.”
He lifted her chin until she met his probing stare. “Emilo?”
Laila tried to hold back tears. She hated to show weakness—but it was futile. “Yes.”
“They forced you to have sex with your own sister’s husband?”
She nodded. “They watched.”
Trees clenched his jaw as his hands curled into fists. Clearly, he was fighting to hold on to his temper. “I’m sorry, little one. Truly.”
Laila felt desperate to change the subject. “I know you are angry about last night—”
“Not angry. Let’s be clear. Disappointed. I gave you my word, and you chose to test me. I understand why, and that’s the reason I’m not mad. But now you know I keep my promises.”
Laila did. The lesson had been an unpleasant one, but she had never met a man willing to stop taking his own pleasure from a woman simply to make a point—until Trees. “I believe you.”
He cupped her cheek. “Good. Then we’re making progress. Now let’s figure this out. Are you willing to eat with me, as you are right now, and believe that I’ll respect your boundaries?”
“I worry about the memories…” They had been some of the most nightmarish of her life. What if they overwhelmed her and dragged her back to that dark place she knew too well?
Then again, the last few days with Trees…she hadn’t felt so hopeless.
That realization shocked her. So did her certainty that her fears were from the past and in her head. She needed to move on.
“But I will try not to let them overwhelm me.”
He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, making it tingle, then he dropped a kiss to her forehead. “If they do, you know your safe word.”
She frowned. “How will that help me?”
“I told you last night that saying red will also stop me from anything that brings you mental anguish. If you can’t eat in front of me in nothing but that shirt, then say so. We’ll discuss and come up with another plan.”
Was it really that simple?
Trees sighed. “If you’re ever going to trust me, you have to at least try.”
He made a decent point, and not trusting him had always ended badly in the past—Victor, the coyotes, and last night’s ache of desire that was still unsated. Maybe it was time to believe he wasn’t like the others. “All right. I will try.”
He guided her to the table, pulling out her chair.