Read Tortured Page 21


  He was either going to come back from rehab recovered, or he was going to come back the same, hitting me when the mood and alcohol turned sour. How much or little time I spent with Brecken wouldn’t change that, so I was going to enjoy the time we did have together.

  As I made my way down the stairs, I heard the boys talking as they made what sounded like another massive fort.

  “Hey, Brecken?” Keenan’s voice took on a serious edge. “Sometimes I wish you were my dad. My real dad.” He paused for a second while I grabbed the handrail for support. “Don’t tell Mom that though.”

  Like myself, Brecken was silent. I clicked my flashlight off and took the last few stairs.

  “If I had my choice of any kid in the whole entire world to be my kid, I’d pick you. No doubt about it.” Brecken’s voice filled up the dark space, the smile in his voice evident. “Don’t tell your mom that though.”

  Keenan giggled, getting back to making his fort.

  When I flicked the flashlight back on, Brecken was already looking at me from across the living room. As though he’d known I was there the whole time. Like he was able to find me no matter how thick the dark was.

  Thanks to his energy stores, Keenan didn’t fall asleep until almost eleven. When he did finally go out, Brecken looked almost as exhausted. At least he did until I whispered something in his ear, took his hand, and led him up the stairs.

  Keenan was all tucked into his fort for the night, since he’d made us promise not to carry him up to his bed when he fell asleep. I loved our time together as the three of us, but I also longed for time as just the two of us.

  When we reached the top of the stairs, I spun around and worked his belt, feeling as though two days without him had felt more like two decades. My body was reeling with anticipation, knowing I’d come as soon as he pushed inside me. It would be over too soon, but that was what second times were for. And third times. We could take our time later. Right now, I needed him to fulfill a need only he could meet.

  “Wait.” His eyes clamped closed when my hand slipped inside his jeans, palming his stiff length. He rolled his neck then gently wound his hands around my wrist, removing it from his pants. He winced as he did it though.

  “What are we waiting for?” I glanced at where a prominent bulge was pushing against his zipper. My body was just as ready for him.

  “I want to show you something first.”

  “Does this have anything to do with a certain piece of your anatomy? If not, it can wait.”

  He muttered something about me being impossible, then his face got serious. “I want to show you some self-defense moves. Some basic maneuvers I learned in the military. A few more I picked up from a place in town that teaches women’s self-defense classes.”

  “You want to teach me what?” My mind started to clear the hormones from my system. A little.

  “Self-defense.”

  I blinked at him. “Why?”

  “Don’t make me answer that question.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you know why.”

  My heart was still beating fast, but thanks to a different kind of adrenaline. “And what? I’m supposed to drive my palm into his throat if he starts swinging at me again?” I had to remind myself to keep my voice down. “Is that all I need to do to keep myself from being beaten by my husband? Learn a few simple self-defense techniques so I can keep from ‘becoming a victim’?”

  Brecken stayed quiet, letting me get it all out. His hands on his hips, his eyes on me, he took everything I gave him.

  “Is that why I’ve been beaten all this time? Because I didn’t stand up for myself? Because I didn’t know how to defend myself?”

  When I waited for his answer, he gave it to me. “No.” His jaw worked. “That’s not what this is about.”

  “No, what this is about is you suggesting I actually fight back if he tries hitting me again. You want to know what will happen if I do that?” My hand covered my chest. “He will keep hitting me. Harder. Longer. I’ve survived, I’ve made it, because I haven’t fought back.”

  Brecken was quiet once I stopped going off on him. His façade was as calm as mine was not. Then his arm lifted toward the stairs, before rotating toward me. “Don’t you want to do more than just survive? More than just ‘make it’?”

  My anger was crumbling, revealing what it had really been masking—fear. My arms curled around myself as I leaned into the wall behind me. “He’s in rehab. He says he’s better.”

  “It hasn’t even been a week—”

  “He’s going to get better. He says he’s not going to drink anymore. He says he’s not going to hit me anymore—”

  “Stop, Camryn. Just fucking stop.” Brecken’s hands tied around his neck. “You might be content to bet your life on the promises of a piece of shit, but I am not.” His arms fell back at his sides, his hands balling and loosening. “I’m not teaching you this to save my conscience. I’m teaching you this to save your life.”

  I gave myself a minute. The thought of hitting Crew back when he took a swing at me was almost comical. One, because I was half his size. Two, because I could almost picture the look on his face when I did, and it was as funny as it was menacing.

  “If I hit him back, Brecken”—my eyes lifted to his—“I’m going to have to run right after.”

  His head tipped. “If he hits you again, I’m going to have to run with you.”

  “So this is for the worst-case scenario?”

  His eyes answered my question.

  “Okay.” Exhaling, I pushed off the wall. “Teach me how to save my life.”

  “Parts of the body to aim for.”

  Brecken circled me in the hallway a couple of nights later. The power had been restored from that “freak” power outage, but the hallway was dark except for the candles burning around us. We needed some light, but I was too paranoid to keep the lights on at night with Brecken in here and the media out there.

  “Eyes, ears, nose, mouth, throat, groin, knee, legs,” I listed off, rolling my eyes so he’d see he’d sufficiently ground that into me already.

  “Parts of your body to use in an attack.” He peeked down the stairs where the fort was still standing, a couple of Avenger slippers sticking out from inside it.

  Bedtime had come earlier tonight, thankfully, since Brecken had imposed two hours of training every night once Keenan fell asleep before he’d let me get physical with him in a different way.

  Another lifting of the eyes. “Elbows, knees, head, knife-edge of the hand, palm of the hand, et cetera.”

  “Et cetera being?”

  I sighed. “Nails, teeth, and pretty much anything else I can use to inflict enough damage to get away.”

  His brow lifted, giving me an impressed look. Then he reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head. “Next question.” He tossed his shirt at my feet, a challenge in his eyes.

  “See? Now you’re actually motivating me to learn. Good teacher.”

  His thumb brushed the line of notches on his belt. “Demonstrate how to break out of this hold.” His hand circled my wrist, pulling me toward him.

  For half a beat, my mind went blank. The surge of adrenaline drowned out what he’d taught me. Then I remembered: take a breath, count to three, then react. Usually the first way we were inclined to react when being attacked was the last way we should.

  Taking a deep squat, I bent my elbow, curling it under his forearm until my wrist snapped out of his hand. I bounced up, giving him a victorious look.

  “It doesn’t help if you stay where you are once you break free, you know?”

  My head tipped. “No shit. Now take off your belt already, I owned that break.”

  Brecken rubbed his mouth in an attempt to hide his smile before lowering his hands to undo his belt. Once it was unclasped, he slid it free, one loop at a time, the smirk on his face making the spot between my legs ache.

  “Turn around.” He spun his finger, moving toward me.

/>   I did as asked, feeling heady with power. The knowledge of how to defend oneself had an effect that was hard to explain. The trust it took to allow someone to teach you, touching you in vulnerable places, possibly triggering uncomfortable memories, made the reward that much greater once I overcame all of those obstacles. With anyone else besides Brecken, this wouldn’t have worked. I knew he’d never hurt me, which made it easier to allow him to pretend otherwise.

  His chest pressed into my back as his arms came around me. “Break out of this,” he instructed, right before his arms tied around my body.

  I went rigid as he wrestled me backward, his hold going tighter. He’d taught me how to break out of this kind of hold, but he’d grabbed me up higher before, so I still had the use of my elbows. I didn’t know how to break out of this with my elbows pinned to my sides.

  “I don’t know how.” My voice wobbled, a ribbon of fear creeping inside. “You didn’t teach me this one.”

  “Think, Camryn. Think.” Instead of easing up, his hold only deepened.

  I wanted him to let me go. I wanted him to take it easy on me.

  I needed him to hold on to me. I needed him to make it hard on me.

  Remembering what he’d told me, I took a breath, cleared my head, and counted to three. He hadn’t taught me what to do in this kind of a situation, at least not step-by-step, but he’d taught me how to fight. He’d taught me how to survive.

  When the next surge of adrenaline crested, I stomped my foot down on his, throwing my head back against his at the same time. Instantly, his arms fell away as he staggered back. Except he didn’t stop staggering like he usually did—he fell to the floor instead.

  “Oh shit, Brecken.” My smile vanished as I rushed toward where he’d gone down. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I went full power.”

  I fell to his side, my hand covering my mouth when I noticed the red mark on his forehead. We’d always trained where I performed the moves but without power behind them. Except for this time. The fear and adrenaline had made me sloppy.

  He rubbed his head another second as he shook the foot I’d just stomped on.

  “I am so, so sorry.” I leaned over him to check his head, feeling terrible.

  That was when I heard it. A soft chuckle that was growing with each note.

  “Are you laughing?” I leaned back, resting a hand on my hip.

  “Of course I’m laughing. I just got knocked on my ass by someone I’ve got fifty pounds and half a foot on.”

  I lifted the strap of my tank top back into place. It felt nice not to have to hide when I was with Brecken. Not to be so concerned with covering every mark and scar on my body. The ones from last week had mostly faded, but I had plenty of the permanent kind that would never fade. “Yeah, you kinda did, didn’t you?”

  He leaned up onto his elbows, his gaze dropping to my neckline. I wasn’t wearing a bra either. At the end of the day, I was so tired of all the extra layers, I couldn’t wait to get off as many as possible.

  “I must be a really great teacher,” he said.

  I draped my arm across his chest, moving my head above his. “Or else I’m a really great student.”

  Peaking an eyebrow, I held my chest above his face, feeling my nipples harden from the warmth of his breath seeping through the thin cotton. When his teeth caught one of them, my breath hitched, my thighs squeezing when his tongue tasted me through the material. When he released me, my heart started to beat again.

  “Either way, at least I know you can take him down if you need to. That’s all I care about.”

  Swinging my leg over his lap, I reached for the bottom of my tank top. “That’s all you care about?”

  “No.” His eyes dropped to where I was working my tank up my body. “That’s definitely not all I care about.”

  I paused, the hem at my chest line. “What else?”

  His tongue touched his lips as he pressed up onto his elbows. “I care about you. Giving you what you want. Making you feel good.” His hips thrust into me, creating enough friction to draw a moan from me.

  I finished pulling my shirt up my body and dropped it on his face once it was off. When he moved to swipe it away, I laid my hand on it, keeping him blindfolded. A grunt ground out of him as my other hand worked his zipper free.

  “You are definitely not a good student.” His voice caught when my hand formed around him, smoothing up and down. “You’re a very bad student. A very good bad student.”

  Leaving the tank over his eyes, I freed myself from my shorts as quickly as I could, yanking his jeans down just enough to free what I needed. So much was charging through my body, from desire to love, power to submission, that I was desperate to feel our connection. Desperate to have his body force from mine what needed to be released.

  There wasn’t enough time to take off my underwear, so I shoved them aside and joined my body with his, not stopping until I was resting on his lap.

  It took him a few breaths before he could speak. The whole time, my tank concealed his eyes, even as I started to ride him. “I wasn’t done with my strip tease.”

  He was smiling, his hands covering my knees as I took control. The feel of his rough jeans rubbed against the insides of my thighs, the fraying seams biting at the sensitive skin. My orgasm was already forming, rising from deep inside.

  I leaned down so my chest was bouncing against his with each thrust. “You can finish that once I’m finished with you.”

  Something reached down into my dream and pulled me out of it. It wasn’t the same phenomenon I was used to waking up to in the middle of the night though— depending on his level of intoxication, Crew’s hands or fists or the sound of a glass shattering in the office. This was something else.

  Blinking awake, nothing but darkness surrounded me. And then I saw him. Standing framed inside the window, staring not out of it but at me.

  I rolled onto my side, checking the time. “Can’t sleep?”

  He was still naked, and with the moonlight spilling in through the window, he stole the air from my lungs. “Don’t want to.”

  “Afraid to?” I said slowly.

  “Don’t want to miss anything.” He lifted his arms, framing me with his fingers for moment. Then his hands fell back at his sides. “And yeah, maybe a little afraid to. You know, after what happened that night.”

  I sat up in bed. “Back in the cabin? You haven’t slept since then?” That had been almost two weeks ago. He’d been awake every morning when I woke up, and now that I was thinking about, I was always the first one to fall asleep after we managed to break our bodies apart.

  His shoulders lifted. They were wider every day. “I slept those first couple of nights at my place.”

  “Brecken, you need to sleep.”

  “No, I need you.” His arms crossed. “I don’t put sleep and you in the same category.”

  “Well, that’s sweet and romantic and bound to get you laid.” I gave him an overdone smile. “At least right up until you kill yourself from it.”

  His eyes lifted as though I was being dramatic. “I’m having a déjà vu moment here. It’s like we’ve had this conversation before.”

  “We have. And I won.”

  He stuck his thumb into his chest. “Which means it’s my turn.”

  Sliding over in bed, I flourished my arm at the open, warm space I’d made for him. “You’ve taught me to how to break out of just about every hold imaginable. I think I can take you if you decide to pin me to the bed again.”

  His mouth opened and a sigh spilled out before he shoved off the windowsill and approached me. “No more arguing. You—you actually need your sleep.” He slid into the space beside me, collecting me in his arms, and pulled me to him. His mouth lowered to my head. “Keeping up with a five-year-old all day long, that’s no joke.”

  My arm curled around him, my eyes closing. “And keeping up with a virile twenty-six-year-old all night long’s no joke either.”

  His muffled laugh was the las
t sound I heard, his kiss the last thing I felt.

  “We get to go to the park today and stay as long as I want?” Keenan still couldn’t believe it, even though I had our bag packed with lunch and we were steps away from the front door.

  “Yes. To both.” I grabbed his hand before opening the door and sucking in a breath.

  This was our first excursion leaving through the front door in broad daylight in days. With the media still lurking around, I’d made it a priority to avoid the ever-ready microphones and cameras as much as possible. Today, I was done hiding. I was done exchanging what might happen for what really could.

  Today, we were going to the park.

  When we stepped outside, I went through the motions of locking the door and helping Keenan down the stairs, but my heart felt like it had sprouted hummingbird wings.

  “Excuse me? Miss?” We’d barely made it down the walkway before one of them noticed us. “Mrs. Graves, can I ask you a few questions?”

  Keenan stopped, doing the polite thing I’d taught him to do when adults talked to him. I wasn’t concerned with being polite or setting an example at that point though. I was too focused on getting away before any of them could look into my eyes and somehow read the truth I knew was spilling from them no matter how I tried to hide it.

  “Mrs. Graves? Have you talked with Lance Corporal Connolly since his return? How would you describe his state of mind? How does it feel to be living next door to a POW who went through so much? Next to a hero?”

  Grabbing Keenan’s hand, I marched down the sidewalk as fast as our feet would take us. Keenan didn’t put up any fight or even mention the encounter, but by the time we’d made it to the park, I still couldn’t shake the encounter. How was Brecken supposed to move on when they wouldn’t let it go? How could he put the nightmare to rest when people like that kept resurrecting it?

  How could we ever hope to keep this a secret when I couldn’t step down my front stairs without being noticed?