Page 94 of Dangerous Mission
As I try to catch my breath, with my face buried in his neck. My hands resting on his sweat-dampened back, I begin to talk.
“I’ll tell you what happened. But this isn’t going to be pretty and you may never look at me the same again…”
Chapter Forty-Five
Nothing could prepare me for this. Not war. Not carnage. Not walking through the fires of hell in the most physical sense.
But I wouldn't realize how truly unprepared I was to swallow the brutality of Aria’s story until much later.
Stroking the long, wavy strands of her hair, I hold her as she speaks in quiet, agonized whispers.
As the late afternoon light spills into the cabina, with only the hum of the air conditioner and the pounding of my heart in my ears, I listen.
“The scars are from being handcuffed,” she begins.
Fighting a growl, I tighten my hold on her, forcing myself not to squeeze her too hard.
“It started out so normal. Just a few dates.Then I noticed that my ex was cruel to strangers. You know, the way someone treats a waitress that makes you pay attention. and not in a good way. I guess those were red flags.”
She swallows and her fingers tighten against my back. I’m locked inside my frozen body, anger cinching every inch of me until I’m vibrating with the need to howl.
“He was cruel. Just the way he spoke. And it got worse as the months went by, and I started to question why I was dating him.”
“It was harder to have sex with him.” Her voice breaks. “I just couldn’t reconcile my emotions. I was attracted to him, but his behavior began to cast a shadow on the chemistry. But some lonely part of me didn't admit it was over.”
Her nose presses more against my shoulder and I force my hand to move to her neck, unlocking my clenched biceps enough to move.
Hearing Aria talk about chemistry with another man is one of the least favorite topics she could ever bring up, but knowing that this story ends with scars on her wrists makes it the worst fucking story ever.
“Then what happened?” I prompt with gravel—and not the sexy kind—in my throat.
“I guess the first really alarming thing was he choked me one night in bed.”
I swallow the shards of glass in my mouth and wait for the stinging sensation to ease in my chest, but it doesn’t.
I’ve been the man choking a woman before. But she wanted it. Got off on it. Even if it never did anything for me.
“I should have stayed away after that.” A shiver rocks her shoulders. “But he kept showing up. Kept pushing for more. More of my time. Making me let go of the things I liked to do, only to sit at home and wait for him. But then he’d have some excuse and he wouldn’t show up. And allthe time, he was getting less predictable. More rash. More hair-trigger.”
“This fucker’s a real piece of work.”
She laughs humorlessly. “Oh that’s just the beginning.”
Because my stomach is tying a knot around my airway, I have to ask, “He cuffed you?”
“Not until the end.”
I press my nose against her temple, force air into my lungs, and kiss her damp skin. “What happened?”
For a few seconds, she just clings to me. The heat of her tears on my collarbone makes me curse silently.
“He’s never hurting you again. You understand that. You’re safe with me.”
“I know,” she says softly.
“You don’t have to tell me right now.”
Her head shakes back and forth. “No, you need to know this. But after I tell you, I’m going to ask certain things of you.”