by Kahlen Aymes
She shook her head. “Nope. I’m all sticky, so I’m going to shower and then climb into this big, huge bed right over here.” She pointed to it and smiled slyly. “See this big bed?” She used a breathy, bimbo voice and widened her eyes in over-exaggeration.
Alex laughed out loud. “I see it.”
“Of course, I don’t know why I bother showering since I was hoping to, you know… get sticky all over again… in it.”
“Angel, stop it.” His words belied what his eyes were saying as they roamed over her body. Alex brought one hand up to his mouth, his index finger and thumb messing with his lower lip.
“Oh, Alex, come on!” Angel shot back with a small stamp of her foot. “You can protect me better here. How will Swanson know, anyway?”
“It isn’t a matter of him knowing, but he won’t get the chance you seem to want to give him if I’m in your bed. All we’d have him on is breaking and entering.”
“Have you been talking with Kenneth?”
“A bit.”
“Is he your new best friend?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We have the common interest of keeping that pretty little head of yours on that delicious little body.”
Angel scowled because he wasn’t giving in, and she felt weird about Alex and Kenneth comparing notes.
“All talk and no play, Alex. Please?”
“No. Sorry, babe.”
Angel got up and moved toward the bathroom. “Fine!” She all but screamed as she slammed the bathroom door behind her. “Ugh!”
The steam-filled air was heavy, and the mirrors were fogged over. Angel leaned her hands on the vanity and tried to push down her disappointment and blink away the burn of tears that pricked at the back of her eyes.
Her heart seized when a vice-like grip closed around her throat and she was lifted up and slammed back into the cold ceramic tile of the wall opposite the mirror. Her eyes widened and a scream rose in her chest but the hands tightened and made it all but impossible to breathe. Angel’s hands clawed at the face of her attacker but encountered not flesh and bone but the fabric of a ski mask; her legs flailed, her feet kicked out and tried to find purchase on his chest, hips, or legs.
“You little bitch!” he snarled, and she recognized the raspy voice. “I decided I’d just kill you and get it over with, but since your boyfriend is such a motherfucker, maybe I should have a little fun first. Just for him.”
Angel continued to struggle and was rewarded with a grunt when her knee pushed against his groin with all the force she could muster. Her heart pounded in her ears, her hands still clawing at him, finally pulling the mask from his face. She scratched her nails down both cheeks and felt the flesh give way beneath her hands. Mark Swanson hissed and dropped her to the ground followed by a loud clatter of metal hitting the ceramic. Pain shot through her hip and shoulder as she landed in a heap at his feet. She moaned at the sharp burn that spread like wildfire beneath the skin on her left hip.
Angel’s heart beat as if it would fly from her chest. She was gasping to regain her breath as she used her hands to push up and scramble to her feet, racing past the man into the other room. Her frantic eyes went to her laptop in search of Alex’s face but he wasn’t at the desk. “Alex! Cole! He’s here! Aaaallllleeeeexxxx!” she yelled as she ran through the bedroom door and down the hall.
“Ahhhh! Ummph!” The air rushed from her lungs as she found herself face down on the taupe carpet of her hallway; Mark Swanson was suddenly on top of her, one hand twisting in her hair and yanking so hard she was sure her neck would snap. Angel tried to roll over but his body was holding hers down, his legs pushing between hers. Suddenly, she was fully aware of her nakedness and the helpless position she was in; her struggles resulted in nothing more than rug burns on her body. Her skin ripped as she heaved and bucked, her position preventing her from using her hands to defend herself. His rancid breath rushed over her shoulder, into her ear, and over her cheek. He smelled of alcohol and smoke, and worse. Her stomach lurched.
Dear Jesus. “Alex!” she screamed as she heard the clank of Mark Swanson’s buckle. Tears started to seep from her eyes. “Alex! Help me!” The high pitch of her cries made her throat ache. “He’s in the building!”
“He’ll be too late, anyway.”
“He’ll fucking kill you, you bastard!” she spat out, pulling her arms beneath her body and trying to use them to pull herself free from the dead weight over her. “You’re such a coward! You can’t even face me, and I’m half your size!”
The chuckle that followed was chilling. “He fucked my life beyond repair, so I’m going to fuck the only thing he cares about. I wish Avery could watch this happen. Maybe you’ll like it. Play nice and I’ll get you off.”
Angel could feel her knees and elbows burn, the warm wetness of her own blood starting to ooze, her arms and legs shaking with the extent of her effort. “Fuck you.”
“I have a knife, Angel. Play nice or I’ll use it.”
“Then use it! You’ll have to kill me!”
A thunderous boom was followed by the sound of wood splitting and the door falling off its hinges and cracking against the hardwood floor in her entryway.
Angel’s knees were quickly and forcefully pushed wide despite using every ounce of strength she possessed to counter his efforts. She felt the cold metal of the knife slide along her thigh and the burn as it finally sliced along the flesh. A piercing scream burst from her chest in the same instant she was suddenly freed of the weight. Mark Swanson was hurled away from her, landing with a loud crash on his back, the knife flung roughly with a clang into the wall and then a dull thud on the carpet. He grunted as Alex landed on top of him, effectively pinning him to the ground.
“Take care of Angel!” Alex’s voice rang out as she pulled her knees up and crawled up against the wall. Her hands wrapped around her bleeding thigh and tears stained her cheeks. A sob rose in her throat, and her eyes followed Alex’s voice. She barely noticed Cole’s presence beside her or that he removed his shirt and draped his shirt around her.
Alex’s knees were on top of Swanson’s biceps and he was sitting on his chest, was using both fists to pound the other man repeatedly. Angel couldn’t see his face but she could hear the frustration pouring from him as his fist slammed into Swanson’s face repeatedly.
“Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!” Alex’s grunts seemed to punctuate each and every blow. The other man tried to struggle, much in the same way Angel had, and was just as helpless as Alex pummeled him. The sound of fists hitting flesh with sickening thuds, Swanson’s moans, and Angel’s soft crying were like sonic booms against the music echoing down the hall from her room. “Die, you motherfucker! How dare you touch her? Fucking die!”
The other man’s legs stopped moving and it was apparent that he was unconscious, and still, Alex beat him over and over, never lessening the force he used. His chest was on fire and his eyes burned.
“Alex! That’s enough!” Cole shouted. “He’s unconscious!”
“No! It will never be enough!” His voice was thick and broken as his fist landed again, harder, and he pulled his arm back to repeat the motion again.
“Alex,” Angel called tearfully, her trembling hand reaching toward him but fell upon empty air. The space between them was too great for her to touch him, yet still, she reached out. “Baby, he’s not worth it.”
She watched him sit back on his haunches, his chest heaving as his arms dropped to his sides and his head dropped back. “Jesus Christ!”
Cole’s arm was around her as she huddled underneath his blue-button down. Her shoulders began to shake in soft sobs which snapped Alex back to reality. Instantly, he was kneeling at her side and pulling her onto his lap as his arms enfolded her gently while she crumpled into him, her arms lifting around his neck. Alex pulled the hem of the shirt lower to cover her.
“Cole. Call the police if Bancroft hasn’t already.” His hands drifted gently over her, checking for broken bones but seeing the blood running down one
leg in a series of streams. “And, an ambulance.”
Shirtless, Cole got up and quickly walked down the hall and into the kitchen, already speaking into the phone.
“Oh, God, Angel… are you all right? He didn’t… ” The fingers of his right hand moved to her blood-stained thigh. “If he—Jesus, I will fucking gut him, right now!”
The tears still clung to her lashes, her dark brown eyes glassy as they gazed into his. Alex’s face was full of sadness, the back of his knuckles bloody as he brushed them along her cheekbone. She shook her head as her hand threaded through his.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, honey. I should have been at the monitor. When I heard you scream, we got here as fast as we could. Fuck! This is all my fault.”
“No, it’s not. It’s okay. I’m okay.” Her fingers reached out to trace the strong lines of his jaw, but his mournful eyes met hers. “I’m okay.”
* * *
Angel noted Alex’s restlessness as he removed his wallet from his pocket and took off his Rolex to gently place them on the dresser in the low-lit room. He’d taken her to his apartment after the police had left hers, anxious to leave the scene behind. The doorjamb was shattered anyway. She’d been treated in emergency, her thigh stitched and her rug burns bandaged up, but she was thankful that she didn’t have to stay overnight. After the ordeal, Alex needed her as much as she needed him.
He looked tired, even though he still moved with grace and elegance. She sensed his muscles were protesting as much as her own.
Love swelled within her as she remembered how he’d swooped in and pounded Mark Swanson to a pulp, his aggressiveness a stark contrast to his tenderness afterward. All through the police questioning, he never left her side. Her heart squeezed. He’d wanted to clean her up and make sure she was okay, but her experience with rape cases taught her that nothing could be touched. Not the scene, not the victim, not until all of the evidence was collected. The whole process was humiliating, and she understood why some women decided not to report assault.
He seemed too far away when she ached to touch him.
“Alex,” she called softly. He turned toward her as he pulled the tails of his shirt from the waistband of his pants and undid the buckle of his belt.
“Yes?”
“Aren’t you coming to bed?”
He sighed and finished unbuttoning his shirt and began to rummage in a drawer for something. “I’ll lie down in the other room.” He sat down on the edge of the bed with his back to her, and Angel rolled carefully onto her side. Her bandaged thigh still throbbed, and pain shot through her hip and limbs, and her knees still burned. She winced silently.
“This is a big bed.” She reached out and ran a hand down his back and up again, softly kneading his firm muscles. He placed his pajama pants on the bed and rubbed the back of his neck wearily.
“I can’t, Angel.” Defeat laced his voice. “I can’t be next to you and not touch you.”
Tears stung at the back of her eyes as she rested her forehead on his back. “Then… touch me,” she whispered in a tremulous voice.
“You don’t need a man’s hands on you tonight. Not after what that bastard did. When I thought that he—”
Angel reached out and grabbed one of Alex’s hands. “These hands don’t hurt me,” she insisted softly and pressed her lips to his palm and then held it against her cheek, bringing her eyes up to meet his. His brow crinkled in confusion.
She moaned softly as she moved behind him to wrap her arms around his middle and plaster her body as close to his as possible. Her hands flattened on his bare chest and flat stomach through his open shirt. “I want to be with you. I always have.”
“Then maybe you can explain why you’ve run away from me so much.”
“I was scared.”
“Not of me, surely?”
She nodded. “I told you. You’re going to break my heart if I let you too close.”
“Closer is where I want to be with you. More than I’ve ever wanted it with anyone.”
“You say that now, until you get bored. Men always get bored after a while.”
“You’re saying this to me tonight?”
“I’d rather talk about this than dwell on what happened, okay?”
Alex knew what she was saying; she didn’t want to relive it, so he was okay with letting her distract herself. “Did you ever consider that it could be the women who were fucked up?”
“Sure, sometimes, but you’re the epitome of generalization!” Amusement laced her tone as she gently nudged his body with hers. “Cold, unavailable emotionally, yet the handsome, powerful, and unattainable man all women want. You draw us like moths to a flame, and we’re held helpless by your superman skills.”
Alex pulled one of her hands forward and held it between both of his as he huffed skeptically. “Superman skills, huh? Do all women want me?” She could almost hear the smirk on his face in the darkness. “Do you really believe that?”
“He asked with false modesty,” she teased gently, her lips moving against the fine cotton covering his shoulder.
“You don’t seem so helpless to my, uh, skills.” He smiled gently; his fingers played with hers until they twined together, and he lifted her hand to his lips and brushed them across her knuckles. Desire tightened in the pit of her stomach.
“I’m completely helpless.”
“Really?” he asked in disbelief. Tiredness was written all over him.
“Yes, but I think more than most women. My professional training and personal experience make it difficult to shut off the warning in my head. It’s annoying as hell.” Angel snuggled further into Alex’s embrace, her head coming to rest beneath his chin, the rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek comforting.
“I agree. You over-thinking everything annoys the shit out of me, too.”
“Huh!” she huffed with a smile. “Like now. I’m thinking that you should be amazing in bed since that’s how you define your relationships. I should expect you to be magnificent and you haven’t disappointed me.”
Alex scowled. “I’m not a robot. With you… it’s different.”
“Okay, defined relationships,” Angel amended with a chuckle. “Define—d.”
“With you, I’m highly motivated,” he said seriously.
Angel sobered. “Why? I don’t measure your worth by how many orgasms you give me.”
“It’s just—” He paused, searching for the right words. “I enjoy giving you pleasure. I love the way it sounds and looks on you. And, your responsiveness blows my mind; it makes me insane to have you. I can’t stand the thought of anyone touching you with violence or in passion. Even in tenderness. Beyond that, it’s like I’ve told you, I want to see where this goes. Can we stop with the doubt? I don’t enjoy discussing it. I need you to trust me.”
“Okay.”
Alex pulled back and turned in her arms, seeking her eyes. “Just like that?” His hands moved gently up over her shoulders and down her arms until they wrapped around her forearms.
Angel winced slightly but nodded. “Yes.”
Alex instantly gentled his grip, one hand moving to cup her face and the other down to hold her hand in his. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Angel tightened her fingers around his. “I’m okay.”
His green eyes narrowed and turned to glittering black. “It makes me sick to think what he did to you,” he growled. “What he almost did.”
“Shhh. It’s over. Thanks to you, I’m fine.”
“I barely got there in time. Seeing him over you—” he closed his eyes as the image of her struggling with the other man between her naked thighs flashed in his mind, “—the world exploded. Angel, I wanted to kill him with my bare hands.”
“I’m glad Cole stopped you. Are they sore?”
“Not as much as my shoulder. I’ll live.” He grimaced. His hands ached and burned at the same time. “You stopped me, not Cole.”
She nodded, eyes still locked w
ith his. “Alex, I…” Angel paused, trying to get past the tightening in her throat. “Thank you.” He brushed his thumb back and forth across her cheekbone, and the tenderness in his touch made her want to cry. “I don’t know what I would have done without you tonight.”
Alex leaned forward and kissed her temple. “You don’t have to do without me.” He breathed in the soft floral scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her skin beneath his caress somehow reassuring. He closed his eyes and slid his arms around her, the softness of the towel reminded him of her state of undress. The familiar ache that took root every time he was near her was accompanied by tenderness and a need to protect her. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and never let her go. His heart ached with it. He was still reeling from the unfamiliar emotions that consumed him, but the feeling was as incredible as it was terrifying. “I’ll get you something to put on and tuck you in.”
Alex started to get up but she caught his hand. “Will you stay with me? Don’t leave.”
“Okay. You’ve convinced me.”
14
Duplicity
Angel and Alex spent a week holed up in his apartment, taking time to heal physically and recover mentally from all that had happened with Mark Swanson. Alex insisted Angel take time off from work and the radio show to recover and offered to take her away for a while, to Joplin to see her dad or Hawaii like they’d planned, anywhere she wanted to go. But Angel just wanted to be with Alex, alone, without obligations to anyone else except Max.
When Angel told him what she wanted, Alex was more elated than he’d wanted to admit. Mrs. Dane shopped for everything they needed, and Alex whisked Angel away to his estate without argument, both of them returning to his downtown apartment only last night. It was time to get back to reality and work.
Alex had the door to Angel’s condo repaired, and the only evidence that it had ever been damaged was the large yellowish bruise on his right shoulder. The bloodstained carpet had been replaced as well. That, and the skin they had recovered from beneath Angel’s fingernails, would be enough DNA evidence to put Swanson away. The only thing hanging in the balance was how long he’d be locked up. He was released from the hospital three days after Alex’s beating and arrested, albeit with a broken jaw and nose. The D.A’s office threw a slew of charges at him, the worst of which included two accounts of assault with a deadly weapon and attempted rape. But still, the asshole was out on bail. Alex was doubly frustrated because he’d hoped he wouldn’t have the money after his company was flushed. Some family member must have stepped up; he just hoped it wasn’t or the organized crime variety. Surely, after raping the niece of one of the family members, it was highly unlikely. Still, it was a constant concern.