"He needed money for more drugs, so he sold me to his dealer for his next fix. They tied me to the bed, where he beat me and then raped me all night long. All the while Lilah was locked in a dark closet with no food, no water, scared out of her mind. That is who Adam Fletcher is to us. He's not the dandelion-giving, love-professing boy you raised anymore. He is the monster who terrorized me and my daughter for years."
Tears are streaming down her face, a nonstop flow that she cannot stop with the Kleenex in her hand.
"That is the man you are sitting there trying to defend to me. I was not his wife or his girlfriend. I was his victim. But no more. I have Jackson now. He is the one who fought with my demons. He showed me not all men are monsters." Looking right into his eyes, I say, "He is, without a doubt, the best thing to ever happen to me."
I don't even finish talking before he bends down, kissing me.
"I love you," he whispers in my ear. "You are so brave."
"I'm so sorry," Nancy says. "I … I had no idea what you two went through. That my son put you, put his daughter, Lilah, through that." She shakes with the force of her sobs.
I get up and go to comfort her. Not for Adam but for Jackson.
I sit next to her, and we both hug each other as we cry. She, for the son she lost, and me, for the monster I escaped.
I don't know how long this goes on, but the doorbell rings three times in a row. When Jackson opens the door, Lilah marches in grumbling. "I starbing, and Ms. Brenda says no eating till you come home." She is followed in by a smiling Brenda.
As soon as she sees my face and tears, Brenda's expression changes. She's in mother bear mode, ready to battle. She moves to stand by me, but I smile at her to let her know it's okay.
"Lilah, come say hi to Ms. Nancy." I hold out my arms for her, and she sits on my lap.
"Hi, Ms. Nancy, you hubry?"
"Umm, I am quite hungry. What did you cook?" she asks her, gently stroking her hand over Lilah's hair.
"I no cook, but Momma cooked her chili for Ackson," she says matter-of-factly.
"Really? That's my favorite. Do you think I can come over and eat, too?" She looks from Lilah to me, making sure it's okay.
I smile, nodding my head and bringing Lilah closer to me. "We would love for you to join us."
"Okay, let's go eat," Lilah says, jumping off me and heading over to Brenda to take her hand, pulling her toward the door.
I get up and reach out to take Nancy's hand. "I suggest we go before she eats all the corn bread."
She places her hand in mine, and we walk over to my house where she spends the rest of the night getting to know her granddaughter. I spend the rest of the night falling more in love with her son.
Chapter Forty
Jackson
It's been six weeks since I found her beaten in that alley, and today is the day she finally gets her cast off.
It's been three weeks of us being together whenever I am not working. I spend every night with her, no matter what time I get in. I always go straight to her bed.
I also have a serious case of blue balls. My showers have gone from warm to fucking ice cold.
Every single day is some form of torture. It's getting harder and harder not to push her. Right now, for example, we are sitting in her doctor's office. She is wearing a flowery summer dress, and I know the only thing she has under it is a lacy thong.
She is also getting more comfortable with me. Coming out of the shower in just a towel, and she's not so quick to cover up when I come in and she's changing.
The doctor calls her in and cuts off her cast. Opening it up, the powder dust is all over her legs. The doctor throws the cast in the garbage and then examines her wrist. It looks so fragile. The skin is a yellowish color from being in the cast for so long.
He makes her bend it left to right and then back and forth. His examination takes a good ten minutes before he gives her his instructions. "Looks good. It'll be sore for the next few days since it's been immobile, but you should be back to normal soon."
With a nod, he walks out of the room. Bella keeps moving it in circles, getting it working again.
"How does it feel?" I ask her from my spot against the wall so as not to get in the way.
"I don't know yet. Come here and let me try something."
Walking to her, I see something in her eyes I don't think I've ever seen.
Once I make it to the examining table, I move between her legs. I'm waiting for her to put her hand in my hair or under my shirt, but instead she palms my dick. Squeezes it just a bit, just enough he almost wakes up to a full salute.
"Umm." I look at her and now I get what that look in her eyes is. It's lust, it's want, it's need.
"Brenda is keeping Lilah tonight. They are going to visit her friend and stay in a hotel all night ordering room service and movies. Brenda was more excited than Lilah."
I swallow the huge rock that seems to be blocking my airways right now.
"We don't have to do anything you're not ready to do." I push her hair behind her ears so I can see her whole face.
"I want you, Jackson. I want to do this with you. Don't you want me, too?" She looks up at me, and I can see the vulnerability in her eyes.
"I want nothing more than to make love to you. I've dreamed about it. I've fantasized about it," I tell her while holding her face in my hands and kissing her.
"Then let's get out of here." She pushes me away to jump off the examining table as she grabs her purse and pulls me out of the room.
I'm in the car driving, and I'm a nervous wreck. It's almost like this is my first time.
I don't want to push myself on her. I want to go slow with her. I want to cherish her. I want to worship her.
We make it home in almost record time. Turning off the truck, I look over at her. "You can always change your mind."
She turns her body, putting her back to the door. "I know I can, and I know if I do you will stop. But I don't want to stop this time. I want it to be you." Without waiting for my answer, she turns to open the door and is practically sprinting into the house.
Dumping the purse at the door, she turns around. "Can you give me ten minutes, maybe fifteen, before you come up?" Then she runs up the stairs, leaving me here silently laughing.
I lock the door, close the curtains, check the windows, and fifteen minutes later, or maybe thirteen-I don't know at this point as it was the longest window check I ever did in my life-I head upstairs.
My palms are sweaty with nerves, my heart beating so fast I can hear it thumping in my ears.
Her bedroom door is closed, so I knock once, turning the handle, and walking in.
The sight that greets me makes me stop. The room is dark with candles lit everywhere on every single surface. Tall candles, short candles, the glow bathing the room in a warm yellow.
The bed is made all in white, which is different from the brown cover that was on her bed this morning. All of that takes a backseat, though, to the woman standing in the middle of the room.
Holding her hands in front of her, I can see her chest rising and falling with each breath she takes.
Her blonde hair cascades down around her shoulders. But as I take in what she's wearing, I'm almost brought to my knees.
She stands before me in white. A white lace bra holds her now fuller breasts, a tiny blue bow nestled between the soft swells of her cleavage. This bra is more like a cropped tank top, the lace extending down from her breasts and clinging to her torso, stopping just above her belly button.
A slash of skin separates the top from the panties. I trail my eyes along her tight, flat stomach and down to the matching panties. A sheer, lacy triangle is all that hides her from me.
She looks like a vision in white. She is a fucking wet dream, and she looks like a fucking angel. My angel.
I can't find the words to tell her how beautiful she is. I just stare at her, calming my nerves and barely restraining myself from picking her up and throwing her on the bed.
"Brenda bought this for me. I know I don't fill it out right." She looks down at herself, folding her arms over her stomach. "I also have stretch marks," she says in a soft whisper, looking to the side.
I walk into the room, closing the door behind me. No one will ever see her like this, except me.
"You're beautiful." I make my way to her, afraid to touch her. Afraid this isn't really happening, afraid I'll wake up, and it'll all be a dream. A fucking great dream, but a dream nonetheless.
I trace my finger along the top of the bra, and my touch makes her shiver. "You're so fucking perfect." I lean down, kissing her neck, feeling her racing heart beat under my lips.
"I don't deserve you. I don't deserve anything you have to give me," I say as I trail kisses along her neck, "but I'm not walking away from you." Her hands grab my shirt, bunching it in her fists. "You're my perfect, you're my salvation, and you're my everything."