“No your fine I’m dressed. Come in.”
I wanted to slap my own face for the relief I felt when he told me to stay.
I walked through the door way and paused again. He was facing me and pulling a gray t shirt over his head. His chest was all definition, no rolls or loose skin there. No scars he wanted to hide. All muscle and tan and sheer male perfection covered in ink, more ink than I remembered. 'James' was inked in an arch above his belly button in Old English. His key piece however was the old gunfighters belt that he had Chad tattoo around his waistline, only it wasn't guns in the holster, it was drumsticks and they were smoking. That tattoo was Shamus and seeing it after so long, was devastating. His arms were both tatted in pink ribbons that freighted, spanning from the wrist of his right arm, over his shoulders and ending at his left wrist right above a granite cross with his mothers name on it.
His jeans hung low on his hips and his feet were bare. He looked like a dream from my past come back to life and I wanted to cry. Seeing how perfect he still was, if not better, had me wishing that I could say the same for myself and the ink beneath my skin and what it was hiding.
“What’s with the nervousness Sass?” He sat at the end of the bed and put his socks on then his blackMuddboots. That was when I remembered he was rich. Mega rich. The clothes spoke volumes to the worn out faded jeans kid he used to be. “Not like you haven’t seen me in the shower before, let alone getting out of it.”
I wanted to scream for the visual he just painted. “That was a long time ago Shame.”
“Yeah but it all still looks the same.” Winking he laughed when I blushed and he was doing it on purpose. He knew I wanted to touch him, he always knew when I wanted him and it seems that will forever be the secret I can never hide from him. I used to love how he always knew and never denied me. I hated him for it now.
“Are you going somewhere?” I steamrolled over his comment and straight to the point. This man left me behind, heartbroken with no indication as to why. I needed to remember that when I looked at him. I needed to see betrayal and not passion. Tempting my restraint, I took a seat next to him on the bed. He looked at me and smiled, making me melt.
Stupid mind!!!
“Down to the boat”, he stood. “I want to get it all cleaned out and see what some of the crabbers may want before I sell the rest.” That killed myhorndogignition quick and brought my anger and pain right back to the surface where it needed to stay.
“Why would you sell his stuff?” Standing now so he couldn’t look down to me, I took the defensive. How could he be so nonchalant abouthis’ things, his passion for the small company he owned? I didn’t care if he was as rich as God and just as famous. That boat meant the world to Jerry and over my dead body would I let Shamus roll in and toss it all away.
“Whoa Sass.” Grabbing me by the hips to keep me from storming out, he stopped my tirade.
What I didn't expect at all was the horrifying flinch that came from being grabbed. I had always wondered if Shame grabbed me, or stepped to close to me from behind, if I would flinch.
I will flinch. I will because I just did, and it was proof it was never going away.
“You don’t have the right to touch me.” I snapped and roughly stepped out of his hold trying to stop the irrational fear I had and I just wanted to run. I could see the shock at my tone in his eyes but it faded quickly the minute he noticed my fear.
He stepped back and shook his head saying nothing about my reaction to his touch, nothing about the full body tremble that I wasn't hiding.“I can’t keep it all Cassa. I have to let some of it go. I’m keeping the most important things, the special stuff. I meant equipment to give to the guys. Dad would have wanted me to give his buddies that shit, not sell it.” He closed his eyes briefly blocking the pain and sat back down on the end of the bed. “I know Harry Wallenstein needs some good equipment and Dad would have wanted him to have it.” He pulled me, shaking and panting with irrational fear between his legs to get me closer. “Thank you though, for having his best interests at heart.”
I was terrified and I could see the questions on his face, could see him fighting to ask me what I was so frightened of. This was Shamus. Shamus is touching me, not Cory. Shame will never hurt me...
I started the mantra that I had clung too for what felt like forever. Every-time anyone touched me suddenly, or if someone was behind me and I didn't know it. For almost a year I wouldn't go to crowded restaurants or stores because of severe panic attacks. I started reminding myself I was safe, who I was with, that Cory was gone.
Shame is safe...Shame would never hurt me....
He left you stupid!
“I said don’t touch me.”
“I could give a fuck that you said that.” He replied with the smirk he used on his fans. He was playing a game with me, one a few years back that would have had me begging him to fuck me in seconds flat. I wasn't playing a game right now. His face was right at my belt and I had to be cautious to not lift my arms and show off my scars and tattoos. My jeans were cut low and as close as I was to his face he would not be able to miss those fucking scars and that was a whole other conversation for the future. Now was now and I had to get out of here before I was in full blown panic mode.
“I’m sorry Shamus I”- I didn’t get a chance to finish when the door flew open.
“Hey Shamus I “-
"Oh shit sorry! Wait… Cassa?"
Both Shamus and I went stock still when I heard Mikes voice.“I need to go.” I stammered and made my way past Mike. Mike knew better than to grab me or raise his voice so he followed close as I made my way to the front door. My hands were shaking uncontrollably as I tried to get my FOB aimed at my Scion. “Dammit!” I yelled and felt tears burning my eyes as humiliation took over. “I can't get it.” I was crying now, crying because the only man I had ever loved grabbed my wrist. Crying because there was a small and almost miniscule chance he could have seen my scars and tats. Crying because all while Shame was trying to flirt I was thinking up ways to run for my life. I was not okay. I was not normal. And I couldn’t press a damn button to unlock my God-damned car!
“Let me.” Mikey said from beside me, never behind me. His voice was his normal timber, because he knew I hated being coddled.
With shaking hands I handed over the FOB and key ring, my crying only worsening at the damn near constant reminder of how bad he had wrecked me. It was a span of six months that destroyed my life, the fun loving care free girl I was and the mother I could have been. Six months. Half a year.
Oh God!
The next thing I knew I was in the car but on the passenger side, and beside me was Carrie in the driver seat.“Hey there Chica.” She said with a smile. “We came to check on Shame when I saw you leaving. I'm gonna drive okay?”
