Angel (A Companion Book to Monster) (Impossible #1.5) (10 page)

Because the way that I had just tried to deal with it was
completely fucked up and fundamentally disgusting.  How could I punish her for trying to escape me?  She had done nothing to deserve her incarceration.  And just because she was attracted to me, that didn’t mean that she was willing to sacrifice her freedom for me.

I withdrew from her completely so that I was no longer invading her personal space.  “Alright,” I said, forcing my tone to be as cool and detached as hers.

I pulled my t-shirt over my head, acquiescing to her demand to examine my wound.  Part of me ached to see desire flicker in her eyes when I revealed my body to her, but they remained cold as she looked at the red stain on the bandages that covered my shoulder.  I fought the impulse to wince, not at the pain from my broken stitches, but at the sting from her apathetic attitude.  The concern that she had once shown at the sight of my injury was gone, and its absence cut at me more deeply than I could have imagined.

“You should go to the bedroom,” she said, her voice devoid of all emotion.  I would have preferred her bossiness to this cold indifference.  “I’ll have to clean out the cuts in my hands and then I’ll come patch you up.”

I couldn’t help reaching for her.  “Do you want me to help-?”

She jerked away from me, her glare communicating that my help was neither wanted nor needed.  I had thought that rescuing her from her molester would have forced her to see that she needed me.  But the pathetic truth was that
I
needed
her
, not the other way around.

“Just go,” she snapped.  For once, the way that she lifted her chin imperiously when she delivered an order didn’t elicit my predatory side.  That part of me had been thoroughly stifled in the wake of her disgust, her rejection.

The helping hand that I had offered her curled into a fist as my anger reared its head.  I had never felt as weak and worthless as I did in that moment, and I was furious at her for making me feel that way.  Foolishly, I had allowed myself to fantasize that her presence in my life, her inevitable willing submission, would provide me with the sense of control that I needed to offset the chaos of my life.  But instead, the ruthless compulsion to possess her had brought me lower than ever.

I glared down at her, unable to fully quell the rash hope that she would drop her eyes submissively.  But she was stronger than I had ever suspected, and she met my challenge with implacable coolness.

The ice crystalizing in the pit of my stomach sliced at me cruelly.  This time, I was the one to yield, and I turned from her sharply, stalking away.

She shut the bathroom door behind me as I obediently returned to my bedroom.  She took her time before returning to me, making me wait.  And I supposed I deserved that.  But that knowledge didn’t allay the anger that I felt towards her for turning the tables on me.

When she did finally return to the bedroom, she wouldn’t even look at me.  As pathetic as it was, I stared at her while she treated my wound, willing her eyes to meet mine.  But her abhorrence was evidently more potent than my will, because she remained riveted on her task as she replaced the sutures that had broken open.

Once she was satisfied that I had been patched up, she pulled away from me.  Even with this new iciness, I still hated the distance that she put between us.

“I’m going to take a shower,” she informed me.  It seemed the days of meek requests and shy glances were over.  Had they ever been genuine or had she been deceiving me all along?

I had fantasized about controlling her mind, had thought that I was slowly luring her into my trap.  But it seemed that I was the one who had been manipulated.

She left me alone again, all signs of deference gone as she walked away without a backward glance.

As I lay there, my mind obsessively combed through every moment we had shared together, trying to sift out which of our interactions had been real and which had been carefully crafted deceptions.  There had been times when her bland smile or blank expression had seemed
forced, but those moments of concern, of vulnerability…  Surely they had been genuine.

Or maybe I was just telling myself that because I wouldn’t be able to bear it if everything that I thought we shared had been a lie.  Had even her lustful reactions to me been coldly calculated ruses to win my trust?  The thought made my stomach turn.

But then one of the sweetest sounds I had ever heard drifted through the paper-thin wall between the bathroom and my bedroom: Claudia’s low, lustful moan.

A confusing cocktail of emotions roiled within me.  Foremost was elation at the knowledge that she was seeking release from the searing fire that I had awoken within her.  Our chemistry was real; I wasn’t the only one who was powerless to our mutual lust.  But intermingled with my joy was savage displeasure.  How dare she achieve release when my own had been denied?  How dare she touch herself when it should have been my hand, my cock, wringing pleasure from her body?

And there was still hope within me as well.  Even though she had thoroughly shattered my hope in so many ways that night, a spark of it remained.

I wasn’t going to seduce her or force myself on her in any way.  But if her lust had been real, then maybe everything else had been real as well.  Maybe the kindness, compassion, vulnerability, and innocence that I had seen within her were sincere.

No matter how intensely my desire for her body tormented me, I could endure it if the woman I had come to care for wasn’t a lie.

Chapter 8

My eyes roved up and down her body when she finally appeared in my doorway, and I had to swallow back a groan at the sight of her hardened nipples.  I had longed for them to be revealed to me for the entirety of the last agonizingly long week, and now that I could no longer indulge the temptation to touch them, they were visible for the first time.  Even though she wore a camisole, the tightened peaks were clearly discernible through the thin material.  I could even make out their delicious shade of dusky pink.

She blushed when she realized that I was studying the physical evidence of her wanton indulgence.  When she refused to meet my gaze this time, I knew that it was from embarrassment rather than revulsion.  And while I found her bashfulness intensely arousing
, the resultant ache in my cock was far preferable to the wrenching pain in my chest that was elicited by her disgust.

Her movements were jerky as she settled down on the bed, positioning her body as far from mine as humanly possible.  She lay ther
e stiffly, all of her muscles taut as she stared up at the ceiling.  I longed to reach out to her, to hold her to me until the tension left her.

But I knew that my touch would hold no comfort for her.  And neither would the question that I had to ask her.

“Do I have to lock the door?”  I couldn’t keep the shame that I felt at reminding her of her incarceration from my tone.

“No,” she responded, her voice clipped.

Of course she would say that.  Of course I couldn’t trust her not to run again if I gave her the opportunity.  But I wasn’t going to inflict any more despair on her tonight, not after everything she had been through.

Still, I couldn’t allow it to happen again.  I had another question to ask her.

“How did you get out earlier?”

“Bradley forgot to lock the door.”  She still wasn’t looking at me, so I couldn’t gauge the truthfulness in her eyes.  I honestly couldn’t remember whether or not I had heard the lock slide home after Bradley closed the door behind her.

“Alright,” I allowed, deciding to give her the benefit of the doubt.  I studied her carefully for any signs of relief that I had bought her story, but she just laid there stiffly.  “You should get some sleep,” I advised after a moment.

She huffed out an exasperated sigh.  I almost hoped for a snappy retort, but she maintained her silence.

I picked up my book and pretended to read, glancing at her furtively from time to time to see if she had finally drifted off.  One of us should at least get some sleep tonight.  I was far too keyed up to sleep.  Besides, I couldn’t let her out of my sight.  I told myself that it was because I couldn’t allow her the chance to escape again since I hadn’t locked the door, but really I was haunted by the memory of awakening to find her gone.  My panic when I had realized her absence was still sharp in my mind, and the ensuing madness that had gripped me as I hunted her down wasn’t something that I was keen to experience again.

After a while, her eyes finally closed and her muscles relaxed.  Some of the tension in my own body eased in response, and I allowed myself to actually focus on the words printed on the pages of my book.

Barely an hour had passed before I was jerked out of the story that I had become immersed in.  Claudia’s body thrashed, her fingers tangling in the sheets as her lovely face contorted with fear.  She was trapped in the throes of a nightmare.

Instinct urged me to hold her, but I hesitated.  It occurred to me that
I
might be the one tormenting her in her dream.

Her soft, terrified whimper broke me.  If I was indeed the cause of her nightmare, then I would rouse her and prove to her that she didn’t need to fear me.  I grasped her shoulders and shook her gently.

“Claudia,” I said her name softly, but she twisted in my grip as though struggling to get away from me.  It didn’t seem that gentle cajoling was going to be enough.  “Claudia.  Wake up,” I ordered.

Her body stilled instantly, and she drew in a deep, shuddering breath.  When her eyes fluttered open, the stark relief in them took my breath away.

“Sean.”  My heart skipped a beat when she whispered my name with wonder rather than terror.  I wrapped my arms around her, surrendering to the urge to hold her.  She snuggled into me, her delicate hands clinging to my forearm as though in an effort to keep me close.

Completely enthralled by her trust, I tenderly brushed her hair back from her forehead, stroking her, soothing her.  Warmth flooded my chest when she closed her eyes and leaned into my hand, finding comfort rather than revulsion in my touch.

“It was just a dream,” I reassured her gently.  “You’re safe now.”

“Don’t leave me.”  She mumbled the words sleepily, and I wondered if I had really heard them or if they were just another one of my fantasies.

“Never,” I promised.  It didn’t matter if her words were real or imagined.  I wasn’t going to leave her, wasn’t going to let her leave me, ever again.

I drifted in and out of sleep while I held her, relishing how peaceful and content she was in my arms.  But when the light of dawn began filtering into my room, I forced myself to release her.  Considering everything that had transpired that night, I had a feeling that she wouldn’t appreciate awakening in any man’s grip.

For a few hours, I lost myself in my book again.  My attention was called back to reality when I heard Bradley’s approaching footsteps.  I cursed inwardly when he tried to turn back the lock and nothing happened.  He was going to be pissed when he found out that she had almost escaped.  Maybe I wouldn’t have to tell him.

The door hit the wall with a loud bang as he flung it open.  “Why is this door unlocked?”  He demanded furiously.  His eyes skipped over me to glare at Claudia.  “And what the fuck happened to her?”

Shit.

The bruise on her cheek had darkened overnight, the purplish shadow standing in stark contrast to her milky complexion.  Her eyes were
wide open; Bradley’s harsh words had roused her.

His attention shifted to me, his expression appraising.  “I thought you were all for treating her humanely.  What did she do to make you snap?”  Eyes darkening suddenly, he fixed Claudia with a glare once again.  “If you hurt him, bitch…”

He took a menacing step towards her, and I moved before I thought, jumping to my feet so that I could block his path to her.  I was furious at my friend for frightening her after the trauma she had experienced only a few hours before.  She didn’t deserve any of this.  And I would be damned if I allowed her to be harmed in any way.  Bradley’s assumption that I was the one who had struck her made my blood boil.

“I didn’t do that,” I ground out angrily.

My friend’s scowl was fully turned on me now.  “Well I sure as hell didn’t.  What did she do, slam her face against the wall?”

Damn it.

There was nothing for it; I was going to have to tell him what had really happened.  With a great effort, I kept my tone even and calm when I spoke.

“No,” I said carefully.  “She was attacked in the street last night. 
After she escaped.”

“What?!”

Bradley’s reaction was as explosive as I had feared it would be.  But I was ready for it.  He tried to sidestep me, but I mirrored his movement, keeping my body as a barrier between him and her.

“Calm down, Bradley,” I ordered levelly.  “I got her back, and everything’s fine now.  Besides,” I added, turning the blame on him.  “
You
forgot to lock the door.  Did you expect her to just stay here when she knew she had a way out?”

The fury in his eyes gave way to confusion.  “I’m sure I did…”  His voice was tinged with uncertainty.  After a moment, he shook his head.  “Fuck.  I was so tired last night.  I guess I screwed up.”  My relief at his momentarily calm demeanor was short-lived, replaced by fresh ire when he turned a malicious leer on Claudia.  “At least it looks like you got what you deserved, bitch.  I hope that teaches you a lesson.”

I couldn’t hold back a warning growl, and my body coiled, bracing for a fight as instinctive violence gripped me.  “Get out, Bradley,” I snarled, a blatant threat imbuing my roughened tone.

The way that his eyes widened in shock made something twist in my chest.  He took a step back from me, staring at me as though
he
was the one who didn’t recognize
me.

“What the fuck, Sean?”  He demanded.  “Are you really going to fight me? 
Because of
her?
  What has she done to you?”  His eyes narrowed, appraising, as he turned his malevolent attention back on Claudia.  “I don’t think she should stay in here with you anymore.  I’m moving her to my room.”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out my handcuffs that he had used to restrain her so cruelly in her first days of captivity.

The little tremor that ran through her fragile body at the sight of them scoured my mind of any regard that I might have harbored for my friend.

“No,” I seethed.  “Get out, Bradley.  Now.”  It was an order, and I wasn’t going to give him the option of defying it.  My muscles flexed, and my stance widened as I braced for a fight.  I had sworn to protect her.  And if that vow extended to myself, then it sure as hell applied where Bradley was concerned.

My friend paused, his glare burning into me.  I wasn’t sure if it was my threat of violence or his twisted, unwavering loyalty to me that made him back off.

“Fuck you, Sean,” he spat.

It was the first time that he had ever said those words in anger.  Sure, we cursed at each other on a regular basis, but neither of us had ever really meant for the words to cut the other.  The hint of wounded betrayal that mingled with the disgust in his eyes made my stomach drop.

Relief warred with regret as I watched him shove the cuffs back in his pocket and stalk out of room, slamming the door behind him.

“Thank you.” I was dimly aware of Claudia’s softly uttered expression of gratitude.  But I was too caught up in my inner turmoil to really notice
it.

“Ass,” I cursed Bradley under my breath.  Despite my righteous anger, thinking of my friend in terms like that pained me.  In his own fucked-up mind, he truly thought that all of his appalling actions, his unforgivable treatment of an innocent woman, were justifiable.  His callousness was chilling, but every act of insane aggression had been meant to protect me.  I was
all that Bradley had, just as he was all that I had.  Before I met Claudia and his dark side revealed itself with shocking clarity, I couldn’t have imagined ever turning my back on him.  But now…

I was coming to see him as an integral part of everything that I hated, a cog in the violent machine that was the Westies.  While I had found the power that I craved in my sexual proclivities, he sought it out in advancing his “career”.  If he could just climb high enough, then he would hold all of the power, all of the control.  Then nothing would be able to touch him; no one would be able to hurt him.

The shitty hand that life had dealt us had cruelly shaped both of us into something twisted and wrong.  But just because I could understand how he had grown into this unscrupulous man, that didn’t lessen my disgust at the path that he had chosen to take.

And my choice to ally myself with Claudia rather than him had only exacerbated everything; his jealousy at my shifting loyalties, my abandonment, was warping him further.

I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose and drawing in a deep breath in order to center myself, to regain my control of my emotions.  Despite my years of practice, summoning up my cocky mask was almost painfully difficult.

I thought of Claudia.  I couldn’t allow her to see this broken, vulnerable side of me.  That hardened my resolve, giving me the strength that I needed to force down my roiling thoughts.  When I finally opened my eyes, my customary roguish grin was firmly back in place.

Her sad, understanding expression nearly destroyed all of my efforts.  For the space of a second, I was tempted to open up to her, to allow my grief and turmoil to flood out of me in a torrent of pained emotion that I had held in for far too long.  I wanted to hold her as I confessed my deepest insecurities, craved to draw on her comfort as I finally purged myself of all of the hurt that I kept bottled up inside.

But that was just another foolish fantasy.  If I trusted her with the full depth of my vulnerability, then all of my resolve to resist her would crumble.  If I allowed my need for her to claim me, then my need to possess her completely would take hold once again.  I had to maintain my control over myself, or I would destroy both of us.

My cocky grin felt more like a pained grimace, but I resolutely held it in place.  Forcing my muscles to relax, to move fluidly, I went to the bookshelf and pulled down
A Storm of Swords
, proffering it to her.

“We’ll make a nerd of you yet.”  This time, my grin was genuine.  And the sight of her small, answering smile helped melt away some of my lingering consternation.

“Don’t count on it,” she retorted lightly.

As she took the book from me, her fingers brushed against mine.  The lust that hit both of us at even that slight contact was visceral and undisguised.  If her eyes had held any invitation in that moment, I would have snapped and given in to my nearly insuppressible desire for her.