Sweet Jayne (12 page)

“No,” I tell her, clutching her bicep as she turns to face me. “He’s a lot more than protective. He’s fucking obsessive.”

She winces at my gentle grasp and I frown.

“Did he hurt you again?” I demand, anger bubbling in the pit of my stomach. Last time I’d been amused. But this time…this time I’m irritated as fuck.

“No,” she breathes, her one word a vicious lie. Her eyes drift away from mine and she fixates them on the floor.

I blink at her in shock. “Then show me.”

Snapping her gaze back to mine, she furrows her eyebrows together and shakes her head. “No, Kasper.”

With a huff, I grab on to her hips and push her against the cabinet. I grasp onto the top of her dress and slowly drag it down over her shoulder. Her eyes snare mine in her brave gaze. She doesn’t try to stop me, even when I pull the material down over her tit that’s hidden under a black bra. Once I can see from her shoulder to her elbow, I inspect the flesh. Bruises paint her skin, and in some places the flesh is torn, a fresh scab on top.

A familiar rage, one that’s always been pointed her way, blooms inside of me. But once again, I’m angry
for
her. She’s really messing with my goddamned head.

“That motherfucker did this to you.” My eyes go back to probing hers. For a brief moment, I’m seeing the all too familiar look. A look Mom gives me when she’s trying to protect Dale. I know abuse. It’s been a part of my life for far too long. My boss, a man who I sort of looked up to and who I thought I fairly knew, is nothing but a damn deadbeat. It’s a fact now.

She chews on her plump bottom lip. “It’s no big deal and—ah!”

I push the other side of her dress down to look at her other arm. Gently, I run my thumb along the purple welts and grit my teeth. A wave of fury surges through me and I resent it. I hate that I have the urge to protect her.

I’m supposed to be punishing her.

Making her pay for what happened to Kasey.

But all I can do is think about slitting Logan’s goddamned throat.

“What happened?” I hiss out, my furious glare meeting hers.

A single tear darts down her cheek. I swipe it away with my thumb and then suck on the salty flavor.

“He’ll be here soon. Please,” she begs and tries to wriggle out of my grasp, her full tits all but spilling from her bra. “Let go of me.” The fear in her eyes is bone chilling.

“Tell me what the fuck happened and I’ll leave you alone,” I lie. I’ll never leave her alone. My black heart beats only to tarnish hers. She’ll never be left alone as far as I’m concerned.

With a shaky sigh, her teary eyes meet mine. “Donovan. He did this last night because of Donovan.”

I glare at her, my brows pinching together in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“Donovan hugged me. Twice.”

She must sense I’m about to fucking blow up because she hastily pulls her dress into place and stands on her toes to meet my gaze.

“Listen to me, Kasper,” she says evenly, her face morphing from fear to determination. “I know what I’m doing. I can handle myself.”

I blink at her in confusion. What the fuck is she talking about? This isn’t the sort of response I was expecting. Mom never acted like this about Dale.

Sliding my fingers into her hair, I tilt her head back so I can peer into her dark orbs. So I can understand what’s going on in that head of hers. The way she darts her gaze all around, I know there are a million things going on inside her mind. I don’t miss the fact that she’s holding something back. Just out of reach.

I will find out what it is.

This time, I kiss her because I fucking want to. Her perfect pouty lips screamed to be caressed by my powerful ones. With every taste I get of this woman, I lose my sense of reason. It quickly becomes evident that she has a way about her—a way that allures every goddamn man she comes into contact with.

I’m not an exception.

She lets out a small moan that has me wanting to push her against the wall and fuck her brains out. Tearing away from our hot kiss, I peer down at her and try to figure out her angle.

“Why stay with him?”

Her eyes blaze with a passionate fury that makes my heart gallop in my chest. This is most definitely not the same fearful way my Mom looks at me when she defends Dale. “You do crazy things for love, Kasper.”

Slipping my fingers over her jaw, I run my thumb over her bottom lip. Her words make no sense. I want to shove them back into her mouth and make her chew them up instead.

“You don’t love him,” I accuse. “He fucking abuses you.”

Before she can reply, the front door swings open and slams against the wall in the living room. She pulls away from my grasp and pushes the button on the icemaker to fill the glass. I pull out my notepad from my pocket and peer down at the measurements. A few moments later, Logan storms into the kitchen, his dark eyes ruminating with jealousy.

“Hey Chief,” I say and nod my head to him, careful to keep my voice level. “Want to run up to the hardware store with me and we can get a head start on picking the supplies up? I could come over Saturday and get to work.”

His chest is heaving and he stalks over to Nadia. I clench my fist when he grabs her ass from behind rather forcefully, causing her to yelp out.

“Oh,” she squeaks. “You surprised me. I was getting Ghost here a drink of water.”

He pulls her possessively into his arms and makes a great, showy display of kissing her lips—lips I was just tasting—in front of me. Once he’s done mauling her like a starved man, he zeroes in on me with a coldness in his eyes I’ve not ever seen before.

“Why don’t you go on ahead and pick up the supplies?” he says with a growl and nips at her neck. “I’ve missed Nadia today and would like to spend a little quality time with her.”

Anger washes over me knowing he’s probably going to fucking hurt her again. “Sure. See you tomorrow.”

I make it out to my car but not before hearing a bone-chilling scream.

Her scream is one of pain and hate.

A wounded warrior’s cry, not a victim.

It doesn’t make any fucking sense.

I should run back in and try to help her like I always used to try and help Mom, but something, one of those tiny details I rely on so heavily, tells me she’s got this handled.

Eventually, I’m going to find out what’s going on in her pretty little head.

And what the fuck is she protecting?

S
hit!

I didn’t mean to scream.

Logan’s wild eyes meet mine and he’s stunned into silence. Both of us stare at the door as if we expect Kasper to come raging back in here. Deep down, I sort of wish he would. I would love for it not to have to be me who has to deal with Logan, just for once. But, I also know that would be the worst possible thing to happen. I’ve made progress with Logan and I can’t fuck that up.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him and wipe away the blood trickling from my nose with the back of my hand. “I didn’t mean to scream. You surprised me.”

His eyes fixate on my blood like a shark in shallow waters. He wants to devour and own me. To decimate my soul.

“Things are slipping out of my control,” he hisses and runs his fingers through his dark hair, messing up the gel that had been holding it in place. “You’re fucking this all up for me, Nadia.”

I wince at his tone and meet his fixed look with a determined one of my own. “Maybe I like provoking you. Maybe I like being punished.” My voice wobbles unconvincingly and I hate that I don’t have more control over it.

“Is that so?” His eyes travel along my face and over my breasts. I can tell he’s thinking up new and depraved ways to abuse me. The evil wheels in his head are turning rapidly.

I bite my lip and nod, this time feeling a bit braver. “Yes. Hurt me, Logan.”

Because I can take it.

I’m the only one who can take what Logan so viciously administers.

He takes a step toward me and I prepare for him to hit me. But he doesn’t. Instead, he drags a fingertip gently between the swell of my breasts. “Maybe you bore me these days as my fiancée,” he tells me coldly. “Maybe I should have some fun in the basement. You know I like it down there.”

I swallow and force my terrified heart to slow its thundering beat.

Not the basement.

Not the fucking basement.

“Bring the guillotine up to your room,” I tell him fearlessly. “You haven’t used it on me in a while and I kind of miss it. Most of your other toys are up here so it makes more sense to do it up here.”

He knows I despise that fucking contraption.

But the glimmer in his eyes tells me it excites him too.

“Fine, doll,” he says with a predatory grin. “I’ll bite at whatever it is you’re feeding me. Until then, cook us some dinner. I’d like to eat downstairs tonight before we play.”

I press a palm to his cheek and kiss him softly on his savage lips. “I’ll whip up something quick,” I say with a hint of sauciness. “Déjame servirte.”
Let me serve you.

His eyes darken at the innuendo. He plants a quick kiss on my forehead and then stalks out of the kitchen, no doubt eager to terrorize my mind and body all night long.

With shaking hands, I pull out the big container of leftover carbonada. I pour some grease into a pan and heat it up while I prep some premade dough for quick carbonada-filled empanadas. At one time, I’d had dreams of cooking professionally. It isn’t what I’d gone to college for but it’s a great love of mine. Logan can take away a lot of things from me but this is something I secretly hold on to. He doesn’t fully realize how much I enjoy it, otherwise he’d probably use it against me as well. Thankfully he is clueless and the man doesn’t complain a bit when I try new recipes out on him.

While I cook, and I’m relaxed in my element, I let my mind drift to places that make me happy. I don’t let my mind linger on what’s to come. That’d be dangerous to my mind. I’m in control here and I need to remember that.

Once I’ve fried the empanadas to a beautiful golden brown, I serve them up on a plate. The savory scent of meat and vegetables fills the air, reminding me of my mother who is where I learned to cook from. God, I miss that woman.

I climb onto the counter and find a bottle of red wine in the cabinet. Tonight is going to be a doozy. The least I can do is indulge in something to calm my nerves and dull my senses.

Hopping down to the floor, I pop the cork and pour the crimson liquid into two wine glasses. I guzzle down a glass before filling it up a second time. After I’ve managed to down another full glass, I close my eyes and smile.

“Logan, darling,” I call out in a singsong voice. “I’m ready for you.”

And I am.

Game on, asshole
.