An image of the tattoo flashes before my eyes. A bright green dragon and a red shield. It’s burned into my memory. That memory, that one I will remember. I won’t forget the men. But I won’t let them continue to hurt me. They may have tortured me and left me to die. But I won’t give them any more of me. I close my eyes and remember Dom’s promise. I nod my head.
They need to die.
Becca
“What’s all this?” Dom’s bed is covered with bags. I hold the towel close to my body. He’s seen me before, but it’s different now. I feel really fucking uncomfortable with his eyes on me.
“I was going to put it all in the car, but you should take a look at it first.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t really know what you like.”
“All this is for me?” What the hell?
“And Jax.”
“This isn’t necessary.” I shake my head in disbelief. Everything I need is at home.
“I don’t want you going back to your house.” His voice is hard and unmoving.
“I don’t understand.”
“Doll,” he says and walks to me and places a hand on my chin. It takes everything in me not to pull away from him. “You need to learn to not ask questions. Alright?” Fuck that! Who doesn’t ask questions? Although I don’t open my mouth, he must read exactly what I’m thinking all over my face. I’m not all that good about being subtle with my emotions.
“We’re having a few ex-SEALs check out your house and set up some surveillance.”
“What the fuck for?” I almost rip the towel off my body, throwing my hands in the air. “I don’t want strangers in my house. I don’t want this!” I scream and give him a vicious look. I was perfectly okay before him. Everything was just fucking peachy before him.
“First off, I told you to stop asking questions.” He grips my chin and stares into my eyes with a menacing look. “Second, you should really watch that smart mouth of yours.” The heated look in his eyes as he scolds me sends a throbbing need to my clit. My anger instantly dissipates, replaced with desire. A very unhealthy amount of desire, considering the circumstances.
The way he controls me, commands me, makes me want to submit. My lips part, and my eyes soften as he leans down to mold his lips to mine. He pulls back and gentles his hand, moving it to the back of my neck.
“I got you into this, babe. I’m gonna get you out. I’ll make them pay and take care of you. Both of you.” My heart stutters in my chest. I love that he thinks of my son. It’s so easy to fall for this. For him. The thought snaps me out of the lust-filled haze.
His hand tightens on the nape of my neck and he says, “Uh-uh.” His eyes narrow. “Don’t you dare shut me out again.” My eyes widen slightly. “Yeah, I know that look, doll.” A cocky smirk pulls his lips up. He rests his head on my forehead. “You can’t hide from me, Becca.” His voice is low, but it’s reassuring, not threatening.
It scares the fuck out of me.
“Can I see Jax now?” I ask in a timid voice I don’t recognize. I clear my throat and square my shoulders. He’s my son. And I want to see him now. It feels like it’s been days since I’ve seen him. It’s a feeling I don’t like. I look around the room again for clothes. “I need to get dressed.”
“Of course, doll.” His fingertips lightly play along my jaw. “You wanna cover this up? Just so it doesn’t scare the little guy?” I stare into his light blue eyes with a heavy heart. I wonder if that’s on his mind because he’s used to this kind of thing. Women covering up their bruises. The thought makes me turn away from him. I swallow thickly with my back to him, facing the bed.
“Did you happen to grab any makeup?” I ask quietly. It feels wrong to ask for things from him. But there are so many bags on the bed. I see a few names I recognize – Nordstrom, Clinique, Gymboree, J. Crew. A Cartier bag catches my eye, and I inhale a sharp breath. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. What would I need jewelry for? Surely that’s not for me. And it sure as fuck isn’t for Jax.
“Clara did. I gave her the black Amex, so I’m sure she just went crazy with it,” he answers casually, and I just try to take it all in.
I pick up the Clinique bag and spot a few skincare items, but no makeup. I sift through the bags and underneath a La Perla bag with perfumed tissue paper is a bag with Lancome makeup. A shit ton of makeup. I pick it up along with the Clinique bag and take it to the bathroom.
“Take your time, doll.” I give him a tight smile with my head down. I don’t like this. I feel… cheap. At the same time, my lack of gratitude eats away at me.
“I’ll pay you back for everything,” I manage to get out as I turn the handle to the en suite.
“You can afford all that?” he asks, his voice laced with disbelief. I look at the bed and try to take it all in. Yeah, I guess if I sold my restaurant today. Maybe. I bite the inside of my cheek. “You’re not paying me back, Becca.”
I let his words sink in. They dig at my pride. I don’t need his help. Fuck. Yes I do. I have to accept that. But I wish I didn’t.
I’m covered from head to toe. A cream, boatneck cashmere sweater covers my wrists and the bruises on my arms. Dark burgundy yoga pants and a pair of comfy socks cover everything from my hips down. I don’t think I’ve ever worn such luxurious clothing. It looks the same as some clothing I have and it’s definitely my style, but it feels like heaven.
I haven’t met Clara yet, but I like her. Or at least her taste in clothes. Although the scrap of material she calls underwear is not my taste. It’s cute though. Lacy and delicate. Dom would shred it easily. My thighs clench thinking of him ripping through it and taking me again. I bite my bottom lip and scold myself. I know I’m trying to distract myself from everything that happened today, but that kind of behavior wouldn’t be wise.
The doctor left Dom my pills. I took another codeine and a Valium and I’m not in much pain at all now, other than my ribs being a bit sore as I make my way down the stairs. I have to wince through the pain, but other than that, there’s nothing. I feel too relaxed. I wish I hadn’t taken the Valium; it makes me tired.
A small smile plays on my lips as I hear Jax laughing. We round the corner of the hall to a large open living room. And there he is, with a monster truck in hand, standing on the back of the sofa, about to push it down a ramp of cushions. It warms my heart all the way down to my toes. My little man. Relief floods through me. Thank God.
In that moment I feel so much gratitude for Dom. Emotions well up in my chest, and I push them away. My hand reaches for Dom’s, and I squeeze. I don’t know why. But it’s all I can do. He gives my hand a squeeze back and looks at me with curiosity.
I know I’m in this shit because of him. I’m painfully aware of how fucking stupid I was. And even more so of how Rick is why I’m in this shit in the first place. But he didn’t have to help me. He didn’t have to make sure Jax was safe. He didn’t have to come rescue me. I can’t fucking help the tears running down my face. It’s just too much for me to handle. Too much for me to accept. I push my back against the wall and try to calm myself. Jax is just around the corner, after all; I don’t want him to see me like this.