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Charlie

“Don’t touch me.”

The words cut through my consciousness like a sharp blade. Something moves beside me, shoving into my side. My eyes shoot open, the heavy haze of sleep still threatening to drag me back under.

“No,” Bailey whispers, tears in her voice.

I panic, reaching for her, until I realize she’s having a dream. A nightmare.

I gently brush her hair back from her face. “Sweetheart,” I whisper, placing a kiss on her lips. “Wake up.”

I lightly shake her and her eyes shoot open. She clambers up the bed, away from me.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice unsteady and her hands shaky.

“Come here,” I say, holding out my arms to her. She eyes me suspiciously, but comes anyway, sinking into my arms. “What were you dreaming about? ”

She buries her head in my chest, inhaling like she’s grounding herself.

“Nothing,” she whispers, so quiet I can barely hear her.

“Bailey.”

She takes a deep breath. “Just bad memories. It’s over. Can we go back to sleep?”

I place a finger under her chin and lift her face to look at me. She stares past me, her breathing still heavy.

“Take a deep breath and tell me what you’re afraid of.”

Her eyes search mine, trying to find the answer to an unspoken question.

“Someone who can’t hurt me anymore.”

“Drew?” I ask, tension radiating through me. The burn of possessiveness starts in my chest and bleeds throughout my body.

After a beat, she takes a deep breath, closing her eyes on a tear that slips down her cheek and onto the pillow below her.

“I didn’t tell you the whole story, when we went to dinner.”

My hands tighten behind her back, fisting in the comforter behind her.

“Okay?”

“I told you Drew left me there when I wouldn’t give in to him. He didn’t just leave me there.”

“What did he do?” I ask, knowing the fucking answer before she even says it.

She chuckles nervously, though there’s no humor in it.

“He was drunk when he got home because he went out with Marcus. I confronted him about this nasty pair of red underwear I found in his suitcase from a business trip he’d just gotten back from the day before. He swore they came from Marcus. I was stupid and listened to him. He wanted to have sex and I was willing to go along with him because I thought I was going to lose him. When he handcuffed me, I told him to let me go and to get off of me and he didn’t listen. So, he forced me,” she shrugs, like it happens every day. She swallows, looking uncomfortable. Her hands move restlessly over my abs.

Violence wells inside me. I breathe deeply, trying to get ahold of my anger. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

Bailey shakes her head, reaching up to cup my face in her hand. Her touch is too soft for how I’m feeling. I want to hurt him. I want him dead.

“Bailey, he didn’t force you, he raped you,” I grit, holding her closer to me, like if I hold her tighter, I can make that moment disappear. Unfortunately, it’s still very much real and I have to work to get a hold of the burning anger piercing through me before I do something stupid.

“I know,” she whispers quietly, pressing her lips to mine gently. “I know.”

“And does your mother know?”

Bailey swallows, hard. “No. You’re the only one who knows. And Savannah.”

A tear slides down her cheek. I reach up catching it with my thumb and wiping it away.

“Why didn’t you tell someone? Why not call the cops?”

She sighs. “Because it would have been his word against mine and I was just ready to move on.” She smiles softly. “You know, after it happened, I was so disgusted with myself. I felt dirty. But you almost forced me to feel pretty again. I feel more like myself than I have in a very long time.”

“You aren’t what happened to you at the hands of some sick freak,” I say vehemently. “He doesn’t deserve to walk free.”

“I guess that’s why I wanted you to tie me up,” she muses, looking away. “I’ve never been in control of my own sexual experience before. Asking you to do that and knowing you would stop if I wanted you to, gave me something that was taken from me.”

So many firsts, she’d said when I spanked her. This stunning, happy woman was willing to give that to me in the hopes that I would help her reclaim a part of herself she never got the chance to meet.

“I should probably go. I know it’s a lot to take in,” she murmurs, pulling the covers back from her. She turns to get out of bed, but I reach out and pull her back to me.

I tighten my hold around her, keeping her in bed. She eyes me, her brow furrowed, like she can’t believe I don’t want her to go.

“Stay.”

“I can’t look at you and see pity, Charlie,” she breathes, her voice breaking.

“I don’t pity you.” I admire you . “What happened in the past doesn’t change right now.” I’m completely obsessed with you and some dickhead pervert isn’t going to change that.

“What do you want from me, Charlie?”

Everything.

“Remember when you asked about my mom?”

She nods silently.

“She had cancer in the brain. I was taking care of her for two years. I lived with her. When I wasn’t working for Dad, I was with Mom, feeding her, taking her to doctor appointments. The night she died, I was at a party, fucking some girl I didn’t even know.”

A quiet tear slips down her cheek. I look away.

“She’d called me. I didn’t answer. Dad was away. Andi was away. I just kept thinking that I needed to let go for a while . . .” I take a deep breath. “She died because I wasn’t there. I should have been there.”

The guilt I used to be able to wash down with whiskey consumes me and it’s all I can do not to scream. Why had I been so fucking selfish?

“Hey,” Bailey says, sliding above me to straddle my hips. She leans down, placing her hands on either side of my head. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

I shake my head, running a hand over my face. “I did know. That’s the problem.”

Bailey shakes her head, her golden hair falling around me in waves. “Everyone deserves a break.” She places a soft kiss to my forehead. “Your mom was sick. She didn’t deserve what happened to her. She was a wonderful woman. But no amount of you caring for her could have stopped what was happening.”

“Dad still thinks it’s my fault.”

She shakes her head aggressively. “No, he doesn’t. Your mom had a cancer that is almost impossible to beat. Your dad doesn’t blame you. No one does.”

I blame me.

Her hands smooth up my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake .

“One day you’ll stop being so hard on yourself and realize you don’t deserve half the stuff you put yourself through.”

Bailey still thinks I’m the good guy, despite everything I’ve told her. She’s wrong and she’ll soon come to realize I’m not capable of holding on to something. I don’t know what it is. Maybe my brain’s fucked up after losing Mom. I only hope I can hold it together when she realizes how big of a mistake it was, giving me her trust and forgiveness.

“Will you kiss me?” she asks, her voice small. A shiver runs through her, her nipples hard from the cold of the air conditioner. I pull the comforter up, wrapping it around her shoulders and then pulling her down to me.

When she kisses me, I realize I may have made a miscalculation.

Fucking Bailey won’t get her out of my head any more than sending her back to California will. I’ve memorized every inch of her body, every hair on her head and yet, like a starved animal, I want more. I want to pick apart her brain and learn every nuance I can. I want to go to the dark corners of her mind and find the thoughts that she’s too afraid to tell anyone else.

“One day you’re going to hate me, sweetheart,” I whisper against her lips.

Her hand comes up, cupping my cheek. “I could never hate you. I think that’s the problem.” She kisses me again. “I don’t want to think about that right now.”

She’s asking me to be right here, in the moment with her. Make us both forget our scars and just enjoy each other.

I can do that.

In fact, I did it until the sun rose and birds were chirping outside the window.