Defaced: A Dark Romance Novel (19 page)

She shook her head. “No, they tried, but I stopped them.”

He kissed the top of her head and held her tight. “I should have known you wouldn’t have let them win.”

She trembled all over. “They almost did, though, Monster. They almost—”

Her voice broke, unable to bring herself to give voice to what had almost happened.

“Hush. You’re safe now. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

He pulled away and gently touched her face, moving it one way and then the other so he could assess her injuries. “Those bastards. How could they do this to your beautiful face?”

“I’m okay. Please, let’s just get out of here.”

He nodded and helped her to her feet. Then he picked up her pants and dressed her. “Put your arms around my neck. I’m taking you home.”

She realized something. “You left the house.”

He nodded. “Yes. It seemed all it took was the fear of losing the one person I’ve ever loved.”

Twenty-four

Lily blinked open her eyes, confused and disoriented. Where was she, and what had happened?

She suddenly remembered the brothers, the violence and gun fire, and all the memories came back to her in a rush. She lurched to sitting, but a big gentle hand on her shoulder held her down.

“Shh, Flower, it’s all right. Everything’s all right. You’re safe.”

She twisted her head to find Monster’s beautiful brown eyes gazing down at her. She let out a sob and reached for him, and immediately he caught her up in his arms. She pressed her face into his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, and he held her as she trembled.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “I’m so sorry.”

She pulled away, wincing at her injuries as she did so. One half of her face felt swollen, and she imagined a bruise of multi-colors would traverse her skin. Her ribs hurt, and she had a low ache in the pit of her stomach. But she was alive, and so was he, and that was all that mattered.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “You didn’t hurt me. You saved me from those men.”

“No, I should never have brought you here. I’ve put your life in danger more than once, and I can’t forgive myself for that.”

She pressed her lips together, blinking back tears. “What you did was wrong on every level, but if you hadn’t done it, how would I ever have met you?”

“We should never have met.” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t care about you, Flower. That was never the plan.”

“What about me? You think falling for you was ever in my plans? I should hate you—part of me still does, in a way.”

He frowned. “You hate me?”

She took a deep breath and steeled herself for what she was going to say. She didn’t want to hurt him, but he had to know the truth. “I hate aspects of you. I hate what you do for a living. I hate that you thought it was acceptable to have a woman snatched from her life by men who sell women for sex.”

His frown deepened. “But women sell sex.”

“Some do so by choice, yes. But many are forced to, and it’s normally because a man is behind it.”

He ran a hand over his face. “I grew up thinking women were only available for sex or servitude. It was the only time I had their company—until you, of course.”

“See, that’s the part of you I hate—the way you were raised—if you can even call it that. I know it wasn’t your fault—you were as much of a victim as those women—but since your father died, you could have made changes. You could have left this place, given up your father’s business—”

“It’s my business now.”

“And it’s a dangerous business.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry I dragged you into it. But it’s the reason I wanted this gone.” He lifted his hand to touch his disfigured face. “So I could make them see the sort of man they were dealing with.”

“The sort of person you are has nothing to do with what your face looks like.”

He shook his head. “You’re wrong, Flower. My father told me my whole life that people will judge me because of my face. What he did, he did because he loved me in his own way. He wanted to make me hard and strong. He wanted to prepare me to step into his shoes.”

Her heart rate stepped up, her skin heating in her anger. “You’re wrong. How your father treated you was nothing short of abuse! What kind of father calls his son ‘Monster’?”

“It was what he wanted me to be. He wanted the men I’d come up against to be frightened of me. He knew if they saw me, they would only pity me.”

“No, they wouldn’t have.” Except even as she said the words, she remembered her own reaction the first time she’d seen his face. He’d captured and tortured her, but still the first thing she’d felt upon seeing him was pity. But she’d never agree what Monster’s father had done had been right—the man must have been deranged not to have sought help for Monster when he was a child. The irony was that if he’d done that, Monster’s birthmark would be hugely faded by now, and he’d never have needed to stay hidden within this prison. Her heart broke for him. It wasn’t his fault that he was as damaged as he was. The birthmark was never his fault, and neither were the cruel, abusive conditions his father had kept him in while he was growing up.

“He knew if I’d been allowed into the real world, I’d be softened by relationships and compassion. He knew I’d be affected by those around me, only I didn’t need to leave the house for that to happen, did I? I brought you here, and that’s exactly what has happened.”

“We have a relationship?”

He stared into her eyes. “We have more than that, don’t we? When I thought you might be dead, I didn’t want to live myself. I couldn’t see any point in having a future if you weren’t in it.” He reached out and slipped his hand into the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her forward till her forehead pressed against his.

She winced and his expression twisted at her pain. “I’m sorry. I hurt you.”

“It’s fine. I’m just bruised.”

“Where does it hurt?

She lifted her fingers to her cheekbone. “Here.”

He moved slightly to place a soft, gentle kiss against the bruise.

“And here,” she said, touching her forehead.

He kissed her again.

“And here …” She put her fingers to her mouth.

A slow smile spread across his face and he touched his mouth to hers. She parted her lips and their tongues met, slow and tentative at first, and then the kiss deepened. She laced her fingers into the soft hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him down to lie beside her. He’d never allowed her to touch him before, fucking her without ever allowing her to be the one to initiate things. Now all she wanted was to get her hands on his body, and she tugged at the buttons of his shirt, popping them open one by one to reveal his torso. She pulled the shirt from his shoulders and gasped. His beautiful body was covered in bruises and scrapes, a patchwork of blue, green and yellow. The bruises were far worse than his birthmark had ever been, though of course these would fade in time.

“Oh, my God, Monster,” she gasped. “What happened?”

“I was caught beneath the rubble in the explosion, but I managed to get out and come and find you.”

She realized something else she didn’t know. “Where is Tudor?”

Monster glanced down and shook his head.

Her stomach lurched. He hadn’t made it.

She reached out and placed her hand to his face. “I’m so sorry, Monster.”

“Thank you. I’ll miss him more than I’d thought possible. I’ve arranged a funeral for the day after next.”

She wriggled closer to him and kissed him on the mouth. “I’ll come with you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He kissed her back, and then broke the kiss once more. “I don’t deserve to have you in my life,” he said. “You know that, don’t you?”

The hint of a smile touched her lips. “Yeah, I know that. But it wasn’t much of a life to begin with.” Unable to keep her hands off his exposed chest, she slipped her palms over his skin, tracing the squared muscles of his pectorals, her thumbs brushing the hardened pink nubs of his nipples. “Is this hurting you?” she asked.

He shook his head and fixed those dark eyes on hers. “You touching me could never hurt.”

He reached for her t-shirt and pulled it up and over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her legs were bare, so she now only wore her panties. Desperate to get them skin to bruised skin, she tugged the rest of his shirt from his arms and threw it to the floor. Then her hands went to his pants, unbuttoning the fly, and rasping the zipper down. As her hand slid inside, she realized he’d gone commando.

“Oh,” she breathed, as his erection sprung out to meet her. It was long and thick, every ridge and vein pronounced as the blood flow grew stronger. She reached out to him and circled his girth in her hand. He felt hot and solid, and as smooth as silk. His eyes slipped shut at the contact and his hips thrust forward to meet her slow pump on his erection.

She spoke against his mouth as they kissed again. “I want these off,” she said, tugging at his pants. She wanted him naked, all of him, so not a single scrap of clothing separated them.

He lifted his hips to allow her to pull the pants down, and then his hands went to the remaining scrap of her underwear. They were both being careful of each other’s injuries, not wanting to cause more harm than had already been done. She continued her caresses on his cock as his fingers slid inside the waistband of her panties and moved lower. Lily spread her thighs for him, allowing him access. His fingers curled and pushed up inside her, and she let out a groan. She wanted him inside her, all of him. She wanted them to press their bodies together, and move as one person, until all of the hurt and fear had vanished.

“I want these off, too,” she said, motioning to her panties.

He smiled against her mouth and started to roll them down her hips with his other hand. Frustrated by the slowness, he slid his fingers from her body and used the other hand to rid her of the offending underwear.

For the first time, they were naked together.

Lily leaned back slightly to admire his beautiful body. Long, lean legs with a smattering of dark hair. Tight curls surrounded his long, thick cock. A stomach ridged in muscle, another line of dark hair running down from his navel to join the thatch between his thighs. His pectorals were squared with muscle, his shoulders broad and strong.

She glanced up and realized he was staring at her with that dark expression where he looked like he was going to devour her.

“If you keep looking at me like that, Flower, I’m going to forget all about your injuries and fuck you harder than you’ve ever been fucked before.”

Lily gave a flirtatious smile. “Is that a promise?”

He growled down at her. “You bet your sweet ass it is.”

She wriggled closer to his body and reached for him again. Lily slid her hand from the root of his erection, up to the head, and back down again. She hooked her calf over the top of his thigh, opening herself to him, and positioned his glans at her slit. She was already wet from having his fingers inside her, and she swiped her thumb over the head of his cock, smearing the drops of pre-cum she’d found down over his length.

She stroked his bell-end at her entrance, pushing down onto him enough that his cock pushed past her lips, but didn’t penetrate her. He tried to push his hips forward, but she pulled back again, teasing him.

“Flower,” he warned again. “You’re asking for trouble.”

“And I’m hoping you’re going to give it to me.”

With another growl, he shoved her back, dislodging her hand from his cock. He pushed her thighs open with his knees, and grabbed her hands and pinned her arms above her head.

With a gentle nudge of his hips, he penetrated her.

“Oh, God,” she gasped, twisting her head against the pillow.

He pushed hard and deep, and then drew out again, before thrusting even deeper. His cock hit her cervix, sending little sparks of pain through her body. His face lowered to her throat and he placed open-mouthed kisses against her skin. Over his shoulder, she watched his buttocks clench as he thrust inside her, and she fought to pull her arms free, wanting to grip his shoulders with her nails. He ground his hips in just the right way that the length of his cock brushed against her clit with every stroke, and she felt her orgasm mounting. Her breath came harder and faster, her toes curling. Her whole body tensed, her back arching and breasts pressing into his chest, as his momentum increased.

He released her hands just before he came, and she clawed his back as the wave of her orgasm swept over her in pulses, leaving her a shuddering shell beneath him. He held himself deep and his hips jerked once, and then again, as he filled her.

They clung together, their breathing and heartbeats as one, both finding healing in the person they loved.

Twenty-five

Afterward, he didn’t get up and leave her as she thought he might. Instead he held her, her body curled in against his chest, one leg hooked over his calf. His hand stroked her hair and his warm breath heated the top of her head. Despite all the scrapes and bruises that littered her body, she’d never felt safer.

He may have been a monster, but right now he was a gentleman.

He spoke into her hair. “There’s something you promised to tell me.”

Her muscles tensed. “I did?”

“Yes. You promised me you’d tell me where your fear of touch had come from.”

She forced a smile. “I think I’m over that now.”

“Yes, I think you are, but I still want to know. You know everything about me—every dark, disturbing detail. I want to know about your past, too. I want to know about the events in your life that have made you Lily Drayton.”

She lifted her head to look at him. “Does that mean I get to be Lily again? Not just Flower?”

He kissed her forehead. “You’ll always be Flower to me, but yes, you can be whoever you want to be.”

She gave a sigh of contentment and relaxed back down to the pillow of his chest.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t still want to know,” he pressed her.

Lily took a breath. “I try not to think about it. The pain the memory causes is too much to deal with.”

“Did someone hurt you? Rape you?”

She pushed herself to sitting, and arched her eyebrows in disbelief at him. “Is that what you think? That I was abused? That my abuse is the big secret I won’t talk about?”

“What else am I supposed to think, Flower? You hated to be touched, so there must be a reason behind that.”

She gave a cold laugh. “Do you really think I would ever break down and give myself to someone like you, knowing your past, if I’d ever been abused myself?”

He frowned in confusion.

“I was never abused, Monster. Not like you. Not in the way you are thinking. I was
loved
, and I loved more than anything else in the world, but I lost that love.”

“What happened?”

She pressed her lips together to suppress her emotions. Just thinking of it brought all the pain rising to the surface like ash from a volcano. She’d worked so hard over the last ten years to not think about what had happened, but now here she was about to spill the whole story to a man who confused her emotions more than anything else in her life.

“When I was seventeen, I hooked up with a guy who was a few years older than me. I thought it was love—all the usual stuff a young girl tells herself—but as soon as my parents found out about him, he took off and left me brokenhearted. But that wasn’t the only thing he left me with.” She glanced down and shook her head. “I ignored the changes in my body for as long as I could. I think I lied to myself a lot, tried to pretend it wasn’t happening. I started wearing baggy clothes and making excuses not to go out, or spend any time with my parents.”

“You were pregnant?” he asked, his dark eyes wide with wonder.

She pressed her fingers to her lips, trying to hold back the sob threatening to burst from her chest. Her eyes filled with tears, the world blurring before her. She got a hold on herself and continued. “Now I look back, I think my parents were lying to themselves, too. They must have known something was wrong. They told me afterward that they thought I was depressed because of Daniel—the guy I was involved with—leaving, but I think they didn’t want to admit it to themselves either. I was still their little girl in their eyes.”

He reached out and took her hand. “What happened?”

She sniffed. “I went into labor early. I guessed I was about seven months pregnant. I woke up in the middle of the night in the most unbelievable pain, like someone was stabbing a knife through my stomach. I’d never known anything like it. I was terrified, and I called for my mom and dad, but I’d forgotten that they’d gone away for the night because it was their anniversary. I’d turned eighteen by then, and my folks knew I wasn’t the sort of teenager to throw a party while they were away. I didn’t even have any friends to invite! Anyway, the pain was so bad, I could barely move. There was no way I could get to the phone and call for help—and back then not every teenager had a cell phone they were glued to.” She gave a sad laugh. “Perhaps if I’d had one, things might have been different.”

“What happened to the baby?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“I labored for the whole night on my bathroom floor. Right at the end, when I could feel the baby coming, and my body just took over, I thought I was going to die. But then the baby arrived, and all the pain just went away. I looked down and the baby was this awful blue color, and covered in blood and mucus. I grabbed some towels and scooped her off the floor—“

“Her?” he asked. “The baby was a girl?”

She gave a sad smile. “Yes, she was a girl.”

“She was alive?”

“Yes. As soon as I picked her up and wiped her face, she opened her tiny mouth and started screaming. Right away, the blueness vanished and she pinked right up. I’ve never been so relieved about anything in my life.” Fresh tears sprung in the corners of her eyes at the memory. “By the time my parents got home, they arrived to find me and their new granddaughter being loaded into the back of an ambulance. They were shocked, horrified. They didn’t want to believe it at first, but they didn’t have much choice.”

“So you were taken to hospital, and the baby was fine?”

She nodded. “Yes, at first. She was early, but the doctors said she was a fighter because she’d been able to breathe on her own. Only after she was taken to neonatal, things started to go downhill. She struggled to breathe, and I used to watch her tiny little chest rise and fall in this awful, hitching movement, as though every single breath was an effort for her. The doctors did some tests, and it turned out she had a problem with her heart. If I’d been honest and owned up to the fact I’d been pregnant, I would have had prenatal care and they would have picked up on it sooner and been prepared. But I hadn’t, so they weren’t. The next couple of days were a rollercoaster. She had moments when she looked like she was getting strong enough to have an operation she needed for her heart, but then an hour later she would take a turn for the worse again.” The sob she’d been holding onto burst from her, sudden and unexpected, taking her by surprise. She pulled out of Monster’s grip to hide her face in her hands. “She lived for three days. She was never strong enough for the operation. She was just too small.” Lily gave in to the tears, and the old, old pain somehow ended up feeling as fresh as if it had only just happened.

“I’m so sorry,” said Monster, and she lifted her head to find his dark eyes shining with unshed tears. “What was your daughter’s name?”

She smiled, tight, but real. “Her name was Amora, for love.”

“Beautiful.”

“I thought so.” Her mind went back. She
had
been beautiful. Dark hair and blue eyes, a rosebud mouth, and the softest skin she’d ever felt. But she’d blamed herself for her daughter’s death. If she’d only been more honest with herself, her daughter might still be alive today—a smart, sassy ten-year-old who would probably drive her crazy as much as she loved her. Lily had marked both Amora’s birthday and her death every year since she’d been born.

“I’m so sorry, Flower.”

“Yeah, me too. The pain never goes away.”

“But …” He hesitated. “I don’t understand what this has to do with your aversion to touch.”

She gave a shrug. “I can’t say for sure. Perhaps it was because the last time someone touched me intimately, it resulted in the sort of pain no one should ever have to suffer—that of losing their child. Or perhaps I simply withdrew physically because nothing would ever compare to the sort of physical contact I had with Amora. I’d created her, and given birth to her, all by myself. She was a part of me now, but that part was gone. I blamed myself for not having any prenatal care. I didn’t deserve to have a blessing like that again.”

“You were just a child. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was more than a child. I was old enough to get involved with an older man, to have unprotected sex and get pregnant. I was old enough to have been responsible.”

“What happened to your parents?”

She glanced up at his sharply. “You know that already. You did your research on me, remember.”

“I know they died—your father when you were twenty, your mom a year later when you were twenty-one.”

“My father’s heart gave out on him. I think it was all too much. I was suffering with depression, and they’d lost their only grandchild. They were blaming themselves, too, only they were blaming themselves about their daughter and their granddaughter. I didn’t see it, though. I was hurting, in so much pain I was oblivious to theirs.”

“And your mom?”

“She started drinking. It was awful, and got even worse after Dad died. She got sick one night and choked on her own vomit. I found her.”

“Jesus,” he said, taking both her hands.

“Don’t feel sorry for me. You’ve been through even more than I have. I don’t need your pity, especially not considering the situation.”

He seemed to contemplate what she had said, and nodded. “Okay, no pity. I, of all people, understand that.” He bit his lower lip and focused his gaze on hers. “So is that why you went into helping people, because you didn’t get help when you needed it yourself?”

She gave a sad smile. “Perhaps. Working with a laser meant I could help people without needing to be too intimate with them. I always had the laser between us.”

He nodded. “That makes sense.”

Lily let out a sigh. “So what do you think of me now you’ve heard my story?”

“I’m never going to judge you, Flower.”

“But I’m not exactly the perfect person you thought I was,” she pressed him. “I neglected my own baby and allowed her to die.”

“You didn’t neglect her. You did everything you could. You weren’t much more than a child yourself when it happened.”

“So you think I should forgive myself, and yet you still blame yourself for things you did when you were the same age.”

He glanced away. “That was different. You were innocent.”

“No, I wasn’t. Perhaps I had been at some point in my life, but I made choices that took away that innocence. None of us is perfect, Monster. We just need to accept that fact and try to live the best way we can.”

She thought of something. “Anyway, you said I know everything about you, but I don’t. I haven’t even seen your bedroom.”

He laughed, and she relaxed at the sound. “You’re in my bedroom, Flower. This has always been my room. I only moved out after you’d been brought here and I saw how beautiful you were. I wanted to get you in my bed the first moment I saw you, even if it meant I wasn’t in it with you.”

“You never moved out? Even after your father died?”

“It was the only room I’d ever had. I couldn’t see the need to move to another part of the house.”

“There’s something else I don’t know,” she said, figuring she’d get him to spill everything while she could.

“Yes?”

“What country am I in?”

He gave a slow smile. “Cuba. I brought you to Cuba.”