Page 27 of Broken Skulls (Rebel Skull MC #7)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Jacob

S he holds me tight around the waist as we make our way back to the junkyard on my bike. She started trembling about a mile into our ride. I think she might be in shock.

The look in her eye scares me. I’m worried that might have been the last straw for her.

He recorded all of their sessions. They were awful. Some encounters he physically caused her pain. Others, like with the paintings, he tortured her mind. The mind is the hardest thing to heal. There are some deep places in the mind that victims sometimes inhabit, and no one will ever succeed at finding them there. It’s a place for them alone.

She was just a teenager when this began. It shaped her into the adult she is today, and I know he is right. He’s embedded deep in her psyche.

There were several times back in that room, I thought she might drop to her knees in front of him. He still has a powerful hold on her, but now that he’s gone, maybe that will lessen. She at least won’t have to fear him any longer.

When we get off the bike, her shivering intensifies. I guide us in the house and straight for the shower.

“I’m going to undress us,” I tell her, steadying her by her forearms. I dip my head to capture her attention. “Okay?”

“I can’t make decisions right now,” she tells me honestly, and I love her for it.

“Do you trust me to make them for you? That’s the only decision you need to make right now. Will you let me take the wheel?”

She nods, and for the first time she doesn’t try to hold back her tears. She lets them come freely.

I remove my clothes, putting me on the vulnerable side of the fence first. When she remains calm, I slowly but methodically begin to shed her of her bloody clothes. I shove everything we were wearing in the trash.

“I’m not very good at getting stains out,” I joke.

Elizabeth offers me a shy smile despite the wetness still running down her face. “I haven’t done my own laundry in so long, I don’t know if I even remember how to use a washing machine,” she jokes back.

It makes me laugh lightly and sigh in relief. She’s going to be okay.

She steps into the shower as soon as I turn it on.

Petey warned me before we left to watch her in the shower. “She’s liable to scrub her skin clean off. Trust me, brother, I’ve been there.”

And that is exactly what she tries to do.

“Elizabeth. Stop.” I grab her hands, thankful for my brother’s warning. “Jesus, baby, you’re clean.”

Her gaze darts frantically over her body. She focuses on a spot on her arm and jerks away from me to scrub at it.

I lean over and shut the water off. “We’re done.”

“But …”

I grab her around the waist and force her out of the tub. “But nothing. We’re going to find something to eat and then go to bed.”

She curls her lips between her teeth to keep herself from arguing with me.

Her fingers dig into my shoulder to steady herself as I slide a pair of my boxers up her legs. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“I’m not hungry. You can just take me to the basement.”

I right myself slowly, trying to figure out how to break this to her. There’s no easy way. “You’re not going to the basement.”

She takes a step away from me.

“Jackson made me promise.”

“Is he your boss?” she snips, and it kinda makes me want to smile. It’s Lizzie coming out … and I’ll love her, too. I told her I want her as she is, and I meant that shit.

I keep my face schooled. “No, but he’s my brother, and he’s right. You’ve lived in solitary too long.”

Her arms fold across her chest. Oh my god, she looks good in my t-shirt. I’m so fucking happy she is here with me that I forget what we are arguing about.

“I’ve never lived in solitary.”

Oh yeah, that.

“In your head counts as living in solitary, so just stop. You’re sleeping with me tonight, and every other fucking night for the rest of your, or my, life. At this rate I’ll die first … from hunger.” I close the distance between the two of us and give her a peck on the cheek. “Now come on, let’s see what we can find in the kitchen.”

Her brows pull together, and her mouth falls open, but she remains silent. I turn, knowing she’ll follow me out.

She quietly lowers herself into a chair. Her gaze is burning a hole in the back of my head as I open and close cupboards.

“I need time to think,” she finally says.

“About?”

“Stuff, and I need to do that in the dark room.”

“You can think about stuff in my bedroom. I’m not going to stop you from thinking.”

“Jacob.”

“Elizabeth.” I turn to her. “Chicken or turkey?”

“Either.”

I stare at her, waiting for a more appropriate response.

“Chicken,” she says on a sigh.

“My favorite.” I put the turkey away and grab the mayo out of the fridge. I hold it up.

“Yeah.” Again, she sighs loudly.

“I know you’re tired, but the girls told me you didn’t eat much while I was gone. So, we eat first, then sleep.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Just like you say you’re not hungry, but we’re eating and sleeping anyway.”

“You can’t force me to sleep,” she says angrily, but then she curls up into a little ball, her bravado fading. “But I wish you could.”

“I absolutely could.”

Her big brown eyes blink at me in disbelief. “Seeing him again brought everything to the forefront of my mind,” she admits quietly.

I walk over and place two sandwiches on the table before sitting down beside her. “I can help you fall asleep,” I tell her again.

Her chest begins to rise and fall fast as she realizes I’m not joking. “How?” she asks in barely a whisper.

Whether she realizes it or not, she scoots closer to me.

“When was the last time you let yourself have a pleasurable release?”

It’s interesting how badly she wants to look away but can’t. Her cheeks turn bright pink against her pale skin. She begins to stutter, “Y – you want to be intimate with me?”

I let her squirm for a few minutes as I let my gaze roam over her from head to toe and back again. Oh, her cheeks are in full blossom now. “I think you know the answer to that question.”

She drops her head quickly, letting her hair fall in front of her face, but I catch the shy smile.

I stare at the top of her head. I’m struck by the way she responds to me. I’ve never had a woman so receptive to my voice, my movements. But then again, I’ve never been so bold or confident with someone.

My fingers brush lightly over her hair. “As much as I want to be with you, tonight will be for your enjoyment only. Not that I won’t enjoy giving it to you.”

Her shiver makes me feel invincible.

“Eat,” I tell her.

She mindlessly brings the sandwich to her lips. Her mind is reeling. Good. At least she’s in the present, and she’s eating.

I keep quiet, not wanting to disrupt her thoughts. It feels good knowing they’re on me. The thought makes me chuckle.

Her chewing pauses, and she looks at me. She covers her mouth. “What?”

“Just wondering how the hell I got so lucky.”

“I’m not …”

“You are … you’re everything I’ve prayed for.”