Page 65 of Speechless
“My advice to you, little one, is live. Give the past to me or Connor or Sarah whenever it drags you back there. We’re here, we’ll listen. The day will come, sooner than later, when Connor asks more of you, and you’ll have a choice to make.” Cain stroked her back when she shuddered. “Trust him, Jenna. Take his hand when it’s offered, let him lead you upstairs, and give yourself the gift of a future. He’ll worship you, every inch, for the rest of your lives if you trust him enough.”
“And when Sire comes for me? What gift am I offering then?”
“Sunshine, you leave that fucker to us. I’ve got a present of my own for that asshole.” Cain’s voice turned to silken steel; a sword sheathed in velvet. She wondered how deep it could cut when he revealed the honed blade beneath the soft cover.
“How am I supposed to tell him all this? I don’t know if I can go through it again. Not even for him.”
Cain cupped her chin, let her eyes meet his before he gently turned her head to the doorway. She sagged when she saw Connor leaning against the jamb, his face carefully controlled. But as she’d told Cain, when one was speechless, reading eyes became second nature, and Connor’s were ablaze with fierce and lethal emotions.
Fury. Murder. Pity. Love.
He straightened, easing away from the wall and opening his arms for her. She wriggled off Cain’s lap, aided by the man himself, and threw herself at Connor. In an instant, she was lifted, cradled close in arms strong enough to change her world, and he was carrying her into the room.
“How much did you hear?” she asked him anxiously.
Connor sucked in an audible breath. “Enough to know Sire needs to die. Enough to dropkick my Hippocratic oath out of the fucking window and end his worthless existence myself.”
Home again, she nuzzled his throat. Some days she didn’t feel worthy of being alive, she thought, when so many others had died. Today she wanted to live, would go through it all again just to be right here, with him.
“Also enough to know that my little brother needs his ass kicking for leaving porn running on the TV.” Connor growled under his breath. “You better not have jacked off on my couch, Cain.”
Curious, Jenna peeked at him. Unperturbed, the youngest O’Malley brother grinned. “That would just be rude, Connor. I was looking for a light bit of entertainment under the influence of several beers and found your—your,” he reiterated with a sly wink, “porn channel account. Might want to consider changing your password, what with having a little in the house. A curious little,” he added with a head tilt toward Jenna.
Connor groaned and lifted an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure you’re ready to explore that yet, baby? There’s nothing wrong with curiosity as long as you feel ready to take that step. Don’t let the wise old man over there taint your instincts.”
Cain laughed and stretched. “This wise old man only speaks the truth, bro. He also needs to get his ass up and make sure his deputy manager didn’t trash his bar during his absence.”
He stood, stretched again, showcasing a lean six-pack of abs, and belatedly fastened his jeans under Connor’s narrowed stare. “You need anything, give me a call. The DM’s been bugging me for more hours, got a kid on the way and could use the extra cash, so I have some free time if you need me.”
“Thanks, Cain. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”
Cain just grinned again and gave him a little salute as he snagged his shirt off the back of the couch and yanked it over his head. “Love you, too, big brother. I’ll call my friend, get you hooked up with him today. Probably be this afternoon.”
Connor saluted him back with the bird, sighed when a few minutes after Cain left the room, the front door opened and closed. He pressed his face to Jenna’s hair and breathed deep, and both of them relaxed in the silence.
Wherever they went from here, Jenna thought, she was content to go.
*
He owed his brother.
Jenna sat quietly on his lap, pensive and relaxed. Her mind busy, her body resting. He stroked her back as they sat in the odd silence left behind by Cain—his brother had a knack of filling a room with his presence.
So much to process, for them both. Connor still couldn’t get the images out of his head—Jenna chained by her neck to a tree, forced to watch brutality play out in front of her. Believing—twice—she would suffer the same fate, experience the same pain and degradation as her predecessor.
Yet it hadn’t broken her. Did she realize how special that made her? Standing in the face of adversity when it slapped her repeatedly, punched her, kicked her, all but cleaved her off at the knees. Her body might be weakened from abuse, her mind a little messed up with a forgotten past and months of mental anguish, but the core of her was pure fucking titanium.
His woman—because, by Christ, it was his woman he held in his arms now—could shame a goddamn marine with her strength.
Connor thought of his apprehension over the dog. Hell, if she wanted a dozen damn dogs, he would go buy her as many as she fell in love with, because he was head over fucking heels in love with her.
“Jenna.” Her name rumbled in his chest, pulling her attention away from her thoughts and onto him. Her green eyes wary, they met his with a touch of uncertainty.
“Are you mad?”
“No, baby. I’m not mad at all. Would you do something for me? Just straddle my legs. I want to look at you properly.” Hands on her hips, he helped her into position. “That’s better. I like looking into your eyes when we talk.”
Automatically, her gaze dropped submissively.