He manipulates my throbbing clit between his teeth and nibbles while his fingers sweep through my release and press inside. Ice coats my veins, dousing my passion. I release my legs and squirm away from him.
“Stop,” I shout. He jerks back.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just not inside.”
He tilts his head, his eyes widening. “Cleo Williams, are you a fucking virgin?” I slide from the counter and trip over his leg before catching my arm on the counter in my haste to escape. “Cleo, wait.”
I dive into my bedroom and slam the chair under the handle before bursting into tears of frustration. Not only am I broken, but I’m also a fucking mess.
CHAPTER 33
FOX
For her, I will relinquish control.
Iblink at the empty space before me for a minute. She’s not a virgin, right? It wouldn’t make sense, not with having an abusive husband. I’m pretty sure that, among other things, he subjected her to rape.
I swipe a hand down my face, my fingers still coated in the addictive taste of Cleo. No, she doesn’t get to hide after falling apart on my tongue. I turn and storm to her door, hammering a knock and getting no response.
“Cleo, come out, we need to talk about this.” Silence. She’s spinning inside her own mind, and I can’t stand the thought of her sinking into the trauma because of something I did.
I twist the handle, but the door doesn’t budge. There’s no lock on this door, meaning she’s wedged something under the handle.Sorry, firecracker, that won’t keep me out.I slam my shoulder into the door, and it gives straight away. The frame splinters, and I climb over the remnants of the chair and scan the room. Finding it empty, I fling open the door to thebathroom. She’s not there either. I drop down to the floor and look under the bed. Nope. The window isn’t large enough to climb through.
A tiny sob echoes off the wall, the sound full of anguish and heartbreak. I slide open the closet door, finding Cleo with her knees curled up to her chest as she rocks herself. Her eyes are open but she’s not here with me; she’s reliving something horrific. I swallow the knot of anxiety and reach out to grab the comforter off the bed before draping it around her shoulders and covering her up.
I drop to my ass in front of her and tangle one of my hands with hers. Those pretty gray and blue eyes look straight through me as tears stream down her flushed cheeks. I give her a few minutes, allowing her memories to play out. Trying to interrupt them can cause even bigger problems, and in this state, she might cast me as her villain.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask as her crying abates. She blinks, her gaze focusing before glazing back over.
I lean my back against the wall and close my eyes, never breaking the connection with our hands. When she comes back, she needs to know I’ve got her. She’s not alone.
“I joined the military to escape the life that was mapped out for me here in Red Lake. I was expected to marry someone like Amalee, take over the family business, cultivate more wealth, and hoard it while people were starving and dying. I couldn’t do it. I needed more. I wasn’t mentally set up for the college life that Sam coveted either. One where we had a different girl every night and lorded it over the masses, all because we were athletic. So I left. The military doesn’t care about your wealth or influence. It levels the playing field and you have to climb on your skills and hard work. Turns out, I was exceptional at getting people to spill their secrets.”
Cleo’s fingers tighten around mine and a sigh escapes my lips. “There arethings I’ve done I’m not proud of—sanctioned and otherwise. The better you get, the deeper you go. We have to stop lowering ourselves to the level of the bastards we are fighting. We aren’t doing anyone any favors. There’s a fine balance between pushing someone enough for the truth and instilling such terror that they will tell you anything to stop the pain.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she whispers.
My thumb rubs a soothing pattern on the back of her hand, and I find for the first time that I’m grounded while talking about this. It’s her—she’s holding me in the present. A smile pulls at my lips.
“The final straw was an operation with my mentor. He crossed a line. There were children involved. No matter their actions, children should be treated accordingly. They didn’t know any different, and to use them—it’s unethical and inhumane.”
“So you left and became a bodyguard?”
“Yes, alongside a few other jobs. I keep busy.” I open my eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask again.
“No, I just want to leave.”
“Some demons you can’t outrun.”
“I can damn well try.”
“Trust me, eventually you will have to stop and face them. The longer and the harder you run, the more insistent and terrifying they become.”
She drags her bottom lip between her teeth and sucks in a deep breath. I hold mine, waiting to see if she will trust me with a slice of her past.
“I’m not a virgin.”
