“I promise.”
Two weeks later, we still hadn’t had the conversation, but I knew I wasn’t ready yet. I still felt fragile, ready to break at any moment.
The most difficult thing had been quitting my job. Because I couldn’t tell Marilyn exactly what happened, I lied. I told her my mother was very sick and I needed to take care of her.
Like the wonderful woman she was, Marilyn offered to put me on leave for the rest of the year, but I’d had to refuse. She needed to replace me, not hold my job open for me when I wasn’t even sure I’d be returning.
I’d cried when we spoke on the phone and Marilyn sounded as though she’d been near tears as well.
Here I was, four weeks after the worst day of my life, jobless and with no idea what my next move would be.
The only constant I had in my life was King. After my conversation with Tia, I’d let go of my anger with him and I’d clung to him hard. I’d forgiven him completely and utterly. There was no more resentment about the past, no more fear that I couldn’t trust him. King came running when I needed him, prepared to protect me in whatever ways were necessary. He wasn’t just a pillar of strength; he was gentle when I needed it. He was also the one who suggested I talk to a psychiatrist.
At first I balked, not because I didn’t think it would help, but because I didn’t know if they would call the cops. I still wasn’t comfortable with the decisions King, Tia, and Wick had made, but I believed them when they said that the consequences of involving law enforcement could be deadly for all of us.
It was actually Wick who solved the dilemma. He found someone for me to talk to and insisted on bringing the doctor to King’s house. Apparently the doctor owed him a favor, one he was more than happy to pay.
Concerned he was there under duress, when I asked Dr. Smith (which was obviously a fake name) if he was being forced to do sessions with me, he’d insisted that he was pleased to do it.
“I’ve owed Wick for too long. Every time I’ve tried to repay him, he refused. As soon as he told me what he needed, I came. He’s a complex man, with his own moral code, but he isn’t altogether bad either. He has his own standards for right and wrong and they’re actually much stricter than society’s.”
When I pressed for more information, Dr. Smith clammed up. Finally, I gave up the ghost and we started our first session.
I’d seen the older man three times a week for the last two weeks and he’d suggested I get a prescription for sleeping pills to help with the nightmares. When I took them, I slept too deeply to remember my dreams if I had any.
I only hoped that Dr. Smith was right when he said I would eventually feel better. I might never be the same, but I wouldn’t always be this…breakable.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‡
My eyes opened slowly against the bright morning light. I winced and squeezed my lids shut. When I opened them again, I realized that I’d actually slept through the night.
It was the first time in two months I’d gone to bed without taking a sleeping pill and not woken up because of a nightmare.
I rolled over to find King sprawled half on his side and half on his stomach, his head turned away from me. He seemed to prefer this position and I liked stretching out on top of him at night, cuddling up to his back. I could tell by the boneless spread of his limbs that he was sleeping soundly.
Pressing a light kiss to his shoulder, I rolled out of bed and padded down the hall to the kitchen. I was still staying with King two months after that horrific day. Tia was living in my apartment and working at the bar, so we were now alone in King’s house.
I brewed coffee and stood at the back door, looking out over the deck, while I drank my first cup. When it was empty, I set it on the table next to me and leaned my forehead against the cool glass. I wished I could sit on the porch but the mornings were brisk and I didn’t want to risk waking King up by going back in the bedroom to get dressed.
I saw the ghostly shadow of King’s body behind me in the glass right before his arms closed around my waist.
My body melted into his, my back pressing against his bare chest. He pulled me tighter against him, his chin resting on my shoulder.
“You okay, darlin’?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
His arms squeezed. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
I placed my hands on his forearms. “I wanted you to get some sleep. I know you haven’t been getting enough.”
King turned me around to face him. “I don’t like the idea of you sitting up alone after a nightmare, Jena.”
My hands lifted to his neck. “I didn’t have a nightmare last night, King.”
“You didn’t? But you didn’t take a pill.”
“I know.”
He smiled, pressing his lips against mine for a quick, light kiss. “That’s good, darlin’.”
I nodded, a little disappointed. In the last two months, King made no effort to have sex with me. He would hold me and kiss me, but he never took it farther.
At first I didn’t notice because I was still shell-shocked. After three weeks though, I started to even out and realized that he was barely touching me unless he was holding me while I cried. King wasn’t the type of man who talked a lot, but he showed affection, putting his hands on me in some way every time we were close.
After that fateful day, he rarely laid a hand on me.
Now, it had been over two months since we’d last had sex and I was getting desperate. It sounded silly, but I really needed him to make the first move. I didn’t think I could handle a gentle rejection from King.
So far, he hadn’t made that move.
As usual, King read my thoughts on my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He shook me a little. “Don’t lie to me, Jena. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
I couldn’t meet his eyes, so I focused on the base of his throat. “It’s just…” I trailed off because I didn’t think I could say it.
“Jena,” King growled in warning.
“We, uh, haven’t had sex in a really long time,” I mumbled. “And you hardly touch me anymore unless I’m upset or crying.”
For once I seemed to surprise King. Then the corner of his mouth kicked up. “Well, technically, I’m touching you now.”
I sighed, feeling my face heat. For some reason, talking about this was difficult for me. I wasn’t shy when we were in bed and didn’t hesitate to whisper dirty talk in his ear, but standing here in the bright morning light, I felt vulnerable.
I was exposed and fully focused on his reaction rather than preoccupied by the haze of lust.
“You know what I mean,” I whispered, staring at his collarbones.
King’s finger hooked beneath my chin, tilting my face up. “I was givin’ you time to heal, babe. You’ve been through a traumatic ordeal and I was worried you were going to break.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been getting better the past few weeks,” I responded.
“Well, why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.
Now I was getting annoyed. “I never had to ask before.”
His eyes glittered with amusement. “I was trying to be a gentleman, which means I was waiting for you to tell me you were ready.”
“What was I supposed to say, King? Throw me down on the floor and screw my brains out?” I snapped.
He started to laugh then, his shoulders shaking with it. Irritated beyond belief, I shoved at his chest.
“Asshole,” I muttered, trying to wiggle out of his hold.
Suddenly his hands were in my shirt and it was up and over my head before I could blink. My underwear hit the floor and he put his foot between mine to hold them down while he lifted me up with his hands on my ass.
I gasped when my naked back hit the cold glass of the sliding door. Then King was kissing me, deep and hard, our tongues dueling. My hands lifted to cup his skull, fisting in his hair. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I rolled my hips, trying to get closer.