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25

IZZY

“Don’t tell him.”

Fog swirled around me. I felt his hand on me, guiding me through a room, but I wasn’t certain who he was, only that I trusted him.

“Don’t tell him.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise me.”

“You’ll be safe.”

His voice echoed the words, but there was something wrong. I could feel the danger around me with every step we took. I shouldn’t be here. This was wrong.

“I have to go back.”

“We can’t. It’s too late.”

My heart hammered in my chest with every step I took. My hand rested on my protruding stomach protectively, but instinctively, I knew it would never be enough. I wouldn’t be able to protect my child. This was going to end badly—the way it did every time I dreamed of my angel.

“Go back,” I whispered desperately. “Go back. It’s not too late.”

“I’ll make this right,” the man pleaded.

I wished I could remember what his face looked like. Who was this man guiding me? Why was he trying to lead me away?

I jerked my arm out of his grasp, backing up a step. If I got away now, maybe none of this would happen. She wouldn’t be gone when I woke up.

“Izzy.”

I spun around, searching for the voice, but couldn’t find it. It was so familiar, so…comforting. I wanted to follow the voice and pull myself out of this hell before it was too late.

“Let’s go back,” I pleaded. “We can still make it.”

“We can never make it. You know it’s too late.”

I shook my head wildly, wishing it weren’t true. Then the fog lifted and I was back in that house—back on the island. I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. I couldn’t be here. I didn’t want to ever see this place again. Beige walls. White furniture. Cigar smoke in the air.

“Oh God,” I whispered. “He’s here.”

“He’s always here,” the man said from behind me.

I turned around, and this time, I saw his face. The guard…the one who tried to help me. I barely knew his name. He was there the last time Ebarardo hit me. I fell into a table and smacked my face against it, cracking my cheekbone. He’d been the one to see me to my room on Ebarardo’s orders.

And that’s when everything changed—when he vowed to get me off the island.

I had hope for the first time in years, and that was a dangerous thing. But I was pregnant and I had to protect my child. I would give anything, risk anything to make sure my child wasn’t raised by that monster.

“We have to go,” he said, hurrying to my side and taking my hand.

“Not like this.” Panic gripped me as I waited for the inevitable to happen. I knew he would walk around the corner and spot us. The guard’s hands on me, the anger on Ebarardo’s face…it was all about to play out in my worst nightmares.

“Please,” he begged. “Now is our only chance.”

I couldn’t tell him no even though I knew what would happen. He was risking everything for me. A tear slipped down my cheek as I pressed my hand to his face. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“For what’s about to happen.”

My eyes slipped closed just as I heard the roar come from Ebarardo’s lips. The guard’s body was torn from mine and he was tossed against the wall.

“You dare to touch my wife?” Ebarardo shouted.

I saw the knife and forced myself to watch. This was all my fault. My eyes locked with the guard’s as Ebarardo slid the knife into his stomach, then thrust upward, ripping his abdomen open. Excruciating pain crossed his face as Ebarardo continued his assault. It lasted for what felt like hours.

Blood sprayed everywhere, screams echoed off the walls, and pain lanced through my stomach. I knew what came next.

A tortured moan ripped from my throat as I bent over, wailing in agony.

“Izzy, please.”

That voice was trying to pull me out of this hell, but it was too late. I was in too deep, unable to see anything but the stairs looming just ahead of me. Ebarardo was advancing on me now, yelling at me and calling me names. I was a whore, giving myself over to his guards when I belonged to him. I hadn’t learned my lesson well enough in the beginning. Maybe it was time for me to go back to the cell.

I whimpered and cried, praying my baby would hold on just a little longer, all the while knowing it was already too late. When I collapsed to the floor, I felt the first kick. It was so brutal that I was sure the baby’s heart stopped right there. Tears mixed with blood from my mouth as he slammed his fist into my face. All I could do now was hold on until the pain passed—until darkness washed over me.

But he wasn’t done yet. He grabbed me by the arms, jerking me upright. My stomach stretched painfully, tearing something inside me. “Please…the baby.”

“How do I even know that bastard is mine?” he asked scathingly. “Did you spread your legs for him? Were you down on your knees, sucking his cock like the whore you are?”

My head lolled on my shoulders as pain crashed through my body. I could feel blood trickling down my legs. I already knew it had started. I looked to the ceiling, counting down the seconds until it happened…there. He let go of me, dropping me at the top of the stairs. I watched as the ceiling grew more distant with every second that passed. My body bounced down each step. Sharp corners of marble cut into my sides and slammed into my head as I rolled to the bottom.

When I finally landed at the bottom, my body was twisted at an unnatural angle. My cheek was pressed to the cool floor—the only relief I found in this horrible nightmare. His footsteps echoed off the stairs as he made his way to me.

I prayed to black out, to not feel the worst of it. But that never happened. It replayed in my mind every time, tormenting me and dragging me through every horrible moment. I wasn’t even sure if it was all real or if it was something my mind made up to explain what happened.

“Please,” I whispered one last time.

Then I felt the weight of the first kick, and I knew the pain would never stop.

* * *

“Izzy, please,” Jason whispered, brushing my hair back from my face.

I jerked from his touch, crying out as the remnants of the dream clung to me. Terrified, I scrambled back to the corner of the sofa, pulling my legs in tight to my chest. I could still feel my baby dying inside me. Every bruise that battered my body felt like it was still there like a livewire.

I was caught between reality and my nightmare. I knew I was no longer dreaming when I saw Jason’s face, but my head was still stuck in that terror-filled state. It was like I had never left.

“Izzy, it’s okay. It’s Jason,” he said softly, holding his hands out to show me he wouldn’t hurt me.

I dropped my gaze, focusing on his fingers, counting each one of them. When I was done with that, I shifted my eyes to his, focusing on their dark depths. Jason. Dark brown eyes. Floppy black hair that curled slightly in the humidity. Tan skin, muscular frame. Hard jawline, but soft smile.

My eyes drifted back to his outstretched arms. Gentle hands.

The terror slowly receded in my mind as I got a foothold on reality. I wasn’t back on the island. Zavala was dead. So was the guard. I had forgotten about him, how he had tried to save my life. He was the reason Zavala tried to kill me that day. He thought I was having an affair with the guard.

I wiped my hand over my face, brushing away the tears, and that’s when I noticed I was wet from more than crying. I was soaked. My head was coated in sweat and my shirt clung to me like I’d just run a ten-mile marathon.

A mewling whimper left my mouth as my emotions caught up with me. She was really gone. I hadn’t saved her, just like all the other times. I’d lost her that day because I’d tried to escape. It was the last time I ever thought of leaving that island.

Jason was by me seconds later, wrapping me in his arms as I cried. I clung to his shirt, twisting it in my fingers as I grieved for my child yet again. When would it end? Would I ever move past this part of my life? Would I ever feel whole again?

“I’m here,” he whispered, running his hand up and down my sweaty back. “I’ve got you.”

I didn’t know why and I didn’t care. For the first time ever, I allowed someone to comfort me, to hold me after my nightmares. All these years, I’d fought alone, struggled to keep myself together. But this time I didn’t have to. He was here, doing it for me.

I buried my face in his neck, holding tight as the worst of the nightmare passed. The soothing feel of his hands on my back helped to alleviate the worst of the terror, but that left me wondering what I was going to do when I had to go home. I wouldn’t always have Jason by my side to soothe me.

“Do you want a shower?” he asked.

“Do I smell that bad?” I jerked out of his arms, immediately aware of how sweaty and gross I was.

But when a small smile graced his lips, I realized that wasn’t the reason he was asking. “You don’t smell at all. I just thought a hot shower might make you feel better.”

He was right. I felt so gross right now, and the idea of walking around like this—still feeling the remnants of my dream—just made it more difficult to move past everything.

“Yeah, that’d be good.”

He stood, pulling me to my feet. With his fingers interlocked with mine, I followed him up the stairs and into his bedroom, careful not to make any noise as I walked past the bed where Carli was sleeping.

“I’ll grab something for you to change into,” he murmured, shutting the door behind me.

I looked around the bathroom, sighing at how masculine it all was. It wasn’t at all like I expected from a man’s bathroom. There wasn’t soap scum in the shower and the toilet was sparkling clean. I didn’t even see any hairs in the sink. It put my own bathroom to shame.

I quickly stripped, shoving my clothes into a pile in the corner, then stepped into the shower. The instant shock of cold water washed away the worst of the nightmare, but it would take more than a dose of reality for me to be able to sleep again.

Sometime during the shower, I heard the door open and close. I figured Jason was leaving me clothes and ignored him as I closed my eyes and let the warm water cascade down my body. I didn’t know how long I stood there, but when my skin started to prune, I washed up and turned off the water.

A pair of sweats and a T-shirt were waiting for me on the toilet lid. Snatching one of the towels off the shelf, I dried off and wrapped the towel around myself, then wiped down the mirror to stare at my reflection. Tonight, I reminded myself of that lost woman on the island—desperate for someone to save her and take her away from the misery of her life.

While I wasn’t quite as skinny as I had been, the lifelessness in my eyes had returned. I just hoped it was only for the night and that I could find a way to pull myself out of this slump. Thankfully, I had an appointment in two days. At least then I could discuss this with my therapist.

I dressed quickly, rolling up the waistband of the pants. They were way too big on me, and the shirt was so large, it hung down my thighs. But it was better than getting back into my smelly clothes. I grabbed everything and opened the door, wondering where I should go. I didn’t think Jason would leave his daughter to bring me home, but I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to walk through the dark to my house.

“Would you mind if I slept on your couch tonight?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah, I mind.”

The sharp sting of disappointment barely had a chance to hit before he held out his hand for me. I didn’t understand what he wanted. Surely, he didn’t intend for me to spend the night in bed with him and his daughter.

“I can’t stay in here.”

“Why not?”

“Because…your daughter is there. She’ll wake up and think?—”

“That we had a sleepover,” he finished. “She’s four. Her brain doesn’t think about what men and women do in bed.”

He had a point, but still…

“Come on. I’m not leaving you alone.”

I bit my lip, wondering what his reasoning was. “Is that because you think I’ll hurt myself?”

“Would you?”

I shook my head slowly, already tired of this conversation.

“That’s what I thought. You know, sometimes, a person just wants to help. You look like you don’t want to be alone right now.”

I didn’t. The thought of laying down beside him, even if he didn’t hold me in his arms, was more comforting than anything else I could think of. Decision made, I padded over to his side of the bed, slipping under the covers beside him. It wasn’t that easy, though. My whole body was tense at the thought of laying beside this strong man. Now that I wasn’t a sobbing mess, all I could think about was how much I wanted to be in his arms. But I was positive he didn’t feel the same way. He held me because I was falling apart, not because he wanted to.

No matter what I tried, I couldn’t shut my brain off. I thought about how his arms felt around me and what he smelled like when I woke up. When I closed my eyes, I saw those intense eyes staring at me, searching for answers. And when I felt his arm brush against mine, I shivered from his touch.

What would it be like to have a man touch me again? More importantly, what would it be like to have a man I wanted to touch? Would I ever be able to handle that? Part of me said yes. He’d held me in his arms and I hadn’t so much as flinched. But hugging was a lot different than being intimate.

“They can hear your thoughts in the next county,” he whispered.

I stiffened, wondering if he really knew what I was thinking. No, that was impossible. He couldn’t possibly understand all the crap running through my head right now.

But then he shocked me, slipping his arm behind my head and tucking it under my neck. I immediately fell against his chest. My hand rested on his abs, but I couldn’t bring myself to relax.

“Izzy,” he sighed.

“Hmm?” I answered, pretending everything was fine.

“Relax. I’m not gonna do anything. Just get some sleep.” Then he grabbed my hand and tugged it further across his abdomen, leaving his hand resting over mine.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, willing my body to unclench. This was fine. Everything was perfectly fine. He was just trying to help me. With every minute that passed, I found myself calming down a little more until finally, my head rested easily on his shoulder and my body relaxed against his. It wasn’t too much longer before the steady beat of his heart lulled me to sleep.

* * *

Warmth wrapped around me, making it impossible to wake up. I was slightly aware of a large hand resting against my stomach and a leg intertwined with mine, but it all felt like part of a dream.

Until I felt a very hard length behind me, pressing against me. My eyes flew open as I realized what was going on. I hadn’t felt anything like that in a very long time. Not since…

I pushed those thoughts from my mind and sorted through my feelings, unsure what to think about what was going on. Of course, Jason was probably sleeping. He most likely didn’t even know what he was doing. It was normal, anyway. Men woke up like this.

Should I move? Would he be mad if he woke up with his hands on me? Oh God, his daughter was in bed. What if she saw?

I swallowed around the dryness in my throat, searching desperately for a way out of this situation. Just as I figured I would get up and pretend none of it happened, his hand slid lower on my belly, skimming along the waistband of the rolled sweatpants.

I sucked in a breath as waves of heat washed through me. Unable to move, I laid there as his finger ran slowly back and forth along my stomach. A staggering breath rushed out of me as he shifted behind me. His cock pressed against my ass, forcing a pained groan from his lips.

I didn’t know if I should move or say something. I just laid there frozen, wishing for more, but not knowing what I wanted or how to ask for it. All I knew was that I liked the feel of his hand on me.

Hot breath skimmed over my neck and then his lips brushed behind my ear, sending shivers down my spine. I whimpered at his touch, and then he rolled me, sealing his lips over mine in a bruising kiss.

Pleasure rolled through me and feelings I hadn’t had in years reemerged down below. Oh God, I was turned on. I squeezed my thighs together, taken by surprise when everything started tingling. Gasping, his tongue slid into my mouth, slipping over mine in a smooth caress that nearly made me cry out.

My brain was on overload as I felt his hand sliding up my stomach, just under my breast. His cock rocked against my hip, and his mouth slid over mine so perfectly that I never wanted it to end.

“Izzy,” he breathed, and then his finger brushed against my breast. That was it. Heat rushed through me, pulsing at my core. I cried out as inexplicable pleasure took over and shattered me. His mouth sealed over mine, swallowing my moans with his kisses.

I laid there shivering, mortified that all it had taken for him to make me come was a few simple touches and kisses. God, I was such a freaking mess.

“Carli!” I hissed when I remembered she was here.

“It’s okay. She’s in her room playing,” he whispered, pressing kisses to my neck. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Oh.” It was just because a woman was in his bed.

“No, not oh,” he muttered, kissing me hard.

I blushed furiously as he traced my lips with his finger.

“I didn’t mean to grope you. It shouldn’t have happened like that. I just woke up and was wrapped around you,” he said gruffly. “All I could think about was touching you, and my hand was already here,” he said, skimming along the waistband again. “I’m sorry if I pushed too hard.”

I was beet red. I knew it. I could feel the heat coming off me in waves. Not just because he was the sexiest man I knew and currently had me in his arms, but because he’d made me come so easily.

“No,” I whispered. “I just…” I needed to tell him. I couldn’t let this sit between us, not when things were happening. He had a right to know, to walk away if it was all too much.

“Talk to me,” he said, his eyes locked on mine.

I faintly heard Carli playing in her room. Now that I wasn’t so focused on what his fingers were doing, I could pay attention to other things. And this was something I didn’t want her to overhear.

“It’s been a long time,” I said.

“I figured.”

But he didn’t understand. Not really. “Not…for sex. I mean, since Zavala,” I answered quickly, my face reddening again. “It’s just—what I mean is?—”

“Hey.” He pressed a kiss to my lips, brushing my hair from my face. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. No judgments.”

Licking my lips, I tried to work up the courage to tell him, but I couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I haven’t…had sex willingly or enjoyed it in…a very long time.” My eyes flicked to his. I could see the rage swirling in their brown depths. “Since before…”

I didn’t need to finish my sentence. He understood perfectly. What I didn’t expect was for him to toss off the covers and get out of bed. I quickly pulled them over me, feeling very exposed. I didn’t understand what was going on, why he was so angry or pacing around the room. His jaw was set hard, and his hands were bunched into fists. With his jeans slung low around his waist, I was trapped between staring at the perfect lines forming down his waist and the anger building with each step he took.

“Jason—”

“I knew that,” he snapped quietly. “I fucking knew it, but—” He turned and paced in the other direction.

“Jason, I’m sorry if that’s a problem?—”

He stopped suddenly and faced me. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he seethed.

I sank back into the bed, my pulse jumping at the anger on his face. The moment he saw my reaction, the anger subsided and his muscles loosened. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before walking over to me.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to flip out on you.”

“Why did you?”

This time, the anger in his eyes was directed at me. “Are you fucking kidding me? That asshole raped you for thirteen years. I knew that. I was well-fucking-aware of what he did to you. But to have you admit it—to fucking tell me that the last time you actually enjoyed a man touching you?—”

His voice rose and he quickly stopped himself, pulling away from me. He was angry on my behalf, not at me.

“I didn’t realize you were…” I trailed off, realizing how stupid it sounded. But I’d never had someone so upset for me before. Yes, everyone who had talked to me was upset that I had been taken and held by him. Knight let me be myself when I needed it. My mother wanted me to hate Zavala. Michael wanted me to see a shrink. But nobody had actually wanted me to talk to them and tell them what happened. Not once had someone asked me to unburden myself and open up to them.

Not until I came here.

Eva and Vira made it perfectly clear that I could tell them anything. But this…Jason was pissed. He was ready to burn the world down for me. I could see it in his eyes. If Zavala was standing here right now, he would slowly kill him, then hand me the knife and stand back as I took my turn.

Slipping from the bed, I stood on shaky legs, wondering if I should go to him. I didn’t want to be this scared, timid woman anymore. I felt like a teenager, barely able to look at a boy without crushing hard. But this was all new to me. Everything that a normal woman experienced had been ripped from me. I didn’t know how to behave or what was normal.

“I need you to talk to me,” I said, finally working up the courage to speak my mind. “I don’t have a lot of experience with men—other than them controlling me. And I don’t think that’s what you want.” His eyes slanted my way in fury, so I rushed on. “If this isn’t something you want, you’re going to have to tell me. I don’t know how to read signals or understand what you’re thinking.”

All I understood was fear. Torment. Hatred. Those were things that I could quickly catch onto and know how to deal with. But all the rest of it was something I just wasn’t capable of comprehending at the moment.

Sighing, he walked over to me, taking my hand. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I don’t know what you need, and I have a feeling I pushed too many boundaries this morning.”

I didn’t know how to answer that. I liked what he did, and yes, part of me wanted more. But was I really ready? Emotionally, I was still a mess. I didn’t know what it would take for me to accept his touch as anything other than what Zavala used me for.

“What do we do then?”

His dark eyes burned through me as he stared at me intently. My breath hitched in my chest as he slowly raised his hand to my face. He caught my reaction immediately, making sure I knew exactly what he was doing. I hated that I flinched at his touch. He was so kind to me, always looking out for me, but I couldn’t help my reaction. Years of abuse didn’t get erased overnight.

And trust wasn’t easily won.

My eyes fluttered shut as I allowed him to brush the back of his fingers against my cheek. The whole time, my heart pounded, waiting for the moment that gentle caress would turn into a punch to the face or his hand wrapped around my throat. When it didin’t come, I allowed myself to look him in the eyes again.

“You’re scared of me,” he whispered.

I blinked back tears that came unbidden. “I’m scared of everything,” I answered, wishing he could understand.

“I hate that you flinch, but I get it,” he sighed. “I know you’re fucking terrified, but I’ll do whatever I can to make you see me differently from him.”

“I already do,” I said, swallowing hard. “I just can’t get my brain to get on board with it.”

“You didn’t flinch when you were in my arms,” he noted.

“I was distracted. Sometimes…it just happens. I can’t promise it will always be like that.”

His hand slowly skimmed down my arm in a feather-light touch. “I can wait until you trust me, until you look at me and don’t have that fear in your eyes, Izzy.”

“What if that never happens?” I asked, feeling tears well in my eyes. “What if I’m too broken?”

A soft smile tilted his lips. “Not possible. You’re too strong to be truly broken. I’ll help you pick up the pieces.”

God, I wanted to believe him so much. The things he said…they made me believe I could actually be normal someday. I took a tentative step forward, and then another until I was chest to chest with him. Raising my hand, I placed it over his heart and closed my eyes, feeling the steady beat. Just like last night when he held me, I found myself drawn to him, needing his touch. As my arms slid around his waist, I felt his heavy exhale against my head. Then I was cocooned in his arms, safe and cared for.

“We’ll get there, Izzy.”