Trust Me: Matty and Kayla, Book 1 of 3 (The McDaniels Brothers) (9 page)

My hands had started to shake and I gripped the wheel tighter.
I didn't want to hear the rest. I wanted to pull over and abandon the fucking car before she said the words.

"
He wasn't mean before that, just...uninterested. Once I got tits, though, he was very interested.” She let out a humorless, harsh laugh. “So interested that Aunt Deedee started to notice, making little comments here and there. I didn't think all that much of it, because whatever she said to me, she was still providing for me more than my mother ever had and I was grateful. But one night that summer, it all came to a head. I was in the barn feeding the horses he came out to call me in for supper. Aunt Deedee was at bible study, but she'd left a casserole in the oven."

She
shook her head slowly and shrugged.

"Shepherd
’s pie. I don't know why I remember that so well. I can still smell it. When he led me inside I realized that my cousins weren't at the table. He’d sent them to a friend’s house.” She paused and pursed her lips together before pressing on. “He...touched me. Pushed his body against mine. He smelled sickly sweet...like beeswax candles and butterscotch. When he stuck his tongue into my mouth, I gagged. He slapped me hard in the face and told me that he loved me, and I was a wicked little slut for making him feel these things. If I wanted him to forgive me, I had to,” she stopped and swallowed hard, "kiss it and make it better. He made me take my clothes off and stand in front of him, and then he put my hand on his…on it. I don’t know what happened that night, but the gods were looking out for me, because my Aunt came home early. She found me in the kitchen with my underwear around my ankles.”

She cleared her throat and laid the towel on her lap like a blanket before she turned to face me.
I tried to keep the emotion from my face. I’d never been so close to the edge of reason as I was at that moment. I wanted to sell my car, buy a plane ticket and murder the motherfucker. Instead, I kept driving and listening.

“
She was furious, and kept me locked in my room until Mickey showed up a week later. I don't know the details, but I saw him hand my Aunt a briefcase. She signed some papers and we were off. I was sure things were only going to get worse for me. That I could expect more of the same. I was wrong. Mickey promised me he'd never let anyone touch me again that way, and he kept his promise. I couldn't stay at his house, he had a young new wife who wasn't keen on the idea of the daughter of a whore living there, but he set me up with a sweet apartment and a nanny of sorts. Came to visit, bought me birthday gifts.”

Today,
I realized for the first time, with a start. The cake and the dinner with her father and the gift box. Today was Kayla’s birthday. Jesus, I was a fucking asshole, for so many reasons.

“
If it wasn't for Mickey, I'd have hung myself inside a month at that house. I know you think he's like some bad guy from a movie. A villain tying up women onto train tracks twirling his mustache, but you only know part of him. I owe him my life, Matty. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, but I was afraid you’d hate me. And I would’ve had to tell you it all, and…well, I just couldn’t.” She shifted and sucked in a shuddering breath. “That’s me.” She pointed to a tall apartment building half a block away. “You can pull up front and let me out there.”

I could. And then I could drive away and call Mickey. Tell him I’d do whatever it took to get out of the deal and away from him and his girl before they really did ruin my life. Offer to give up the deed on the gym and move far away. Get a fresh start.

But suddenly that wasn’t an option anymore. I felt like I owed it to Kayla to tell her some truths of my own. To let her know there was no shame in what she’d lived through, and that I understood. And if she’d let me comfort her, I would.

***

Kayla

"
You don’t have to park,” I said again. Maybe I’d been talking so quiet, he hadn’t heard me the first time. God knew I’d said far more than I wanted to already. Now that it was all out and I’d said my piece, I just wanted him to go so I could crawl into bed and fade away for a while.

"You've been drinking
. It’s been an emotional night, and I want to get you in your place and settled before I leave."

"I had
a few glasses of wine.” Probably more like a bottle before I’d gotten up the nerve to go to his gym to find him, but that was none of his business. I’d hit close to rock bottom and, after a screaming fight with Mickey, I’d shed a few tears, but I knew the mother lode was coming and I wanted to be alone when it did. “It's not a big deal. I can take care of myself."

"
If I didn’t walk you up and something happened to you, how do you think that would make me feel?”

“What’s going to happen to me
in my own apartment?”

“
Who knows?” He put the car in park and turned off the ignition. “Maybe you’ll get woozy and fall down the stairs and break your neck. Or maybe you drank more than you think and you’ll get sick and wish you weren’t alone.”

“
Is that why you don't drink? You’re afraid of something happening to you?" I asked, not willing to give in yet, but not wanting to argue because I was tired of fighting with him.

"No. I did have a friend who was killed by a drunk driver when I was in high school but that's not why I don't drink."

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned my head against the warm glass of the window, wondering if he would continue. I'd almost given up on him answering when he finally spoke.

"My family life was
pretty fucked up, too. My dad was a junkie, but we never knew it growing up. Mostly because we were too busy tap-dancing around my mom to really worry about what was going on with him much."

"Was your mom an alcoholic or
…?" That would make a lot of sense, given his apparent distaste for booze.

"She’
s a lot of things —sadistic, cruel, cunning, strong, and evil as fuck— but no, she isn't a drunk. Or, at least, she wasn’t then. A drink or two actually made her a little more pleasant. Plus, when she was buzzed she tended to get lazy. So, say I forgot to take the trash out. She’d slap me in the face when I walked by if she was drinking, where, on a normal day, she'd burn me with a curling iron.

"Why?
” I whispered, unable to contain my horror. “Why would she do that?"

"Why do cruel people do things? I don't know. Maybe it made her feel more powerful. She had a hard life herself and I'm pretty sure her parents wouldn't have won any awards."

"Then don't have kids if you don't want them. If you're only going to hurt them and continue the cycle."

"I agree with you, which is why I never plan to have any."

"You would never be like her if you had kids, Matty."

"How do you know? We’ve only known each other a few weeks
."

"I can tell. You want to be hard and maybe you keep people at a distance, but I don't see you hurting someone for the sake of it. You have too much compassion."

"Is that what you think?"

I licked my lips, knowing he'd tossed a challenge my way, but not sure how to respond. I believed in what I'd said, so I stuck to my guns. "I do. I think that you're a good person."
Which was why, as mad as he’d been at me, he’d heard me out, and wouldn’t let me walk upstairs alone.

"
Sometimes I think so. It’s there, though. That mean streak. I feel like I have a nest of hot coals in my stomach burning all the time, hotter and hotter, ready to explode at any second. I joke around and smile and try to play nice, but I'm so fucking angry all the time. That's why I don't drink. I'm afraid, if I lose control for even one second, it's all going to come spewing out, like magma from a volcano and it’s going to obliterate anyone close to me."

That told me more about him than anything he'd said so far. He wasn't just depriving himself of alcohol. He was also depriving himself of human companionship.

"But you have your brothers."

"Yeah, well, they're stuck with me. Besides, they're both fighters and depending on the day, could w
hip my ass or at least hold their own. It's...other people I worry about. When I look in the mirror and I see her eyes looking back at me, it makes me sick to my stomach. All I see is the potential to bring pain. I hate it."

I hated it too.
Hated that he felt that way, hated that we had these sad, twisted childhoods that bound us in some morbid way.

“
I just wanted to tell you that you’re not alone and you have nothing to be ashamed of. They’re the sick ones. They’re the ones who should be ashamed, not us.” He held my gaze until I looked away, a jumble of emotions running through me all at once. “Let me walk you up now,” he murmured, and pushed open his door to come around to my side.

It took a few minutes for me to find my keys and a few more to trudge up the stairs because the elevator was
broken, but by the time we got to apartment six hundred, the last thing I wanted was to be alone. I’d left the warehouse broken, sad and a little drunk and now, even after telling Matty the worst parts of my life, I felt…cleaner. Better. Maybe he hadn’t forgiven me, but he didn’t hate me, and that mattered more than anything right then.

I wasn’t ready to let him go yet.

“You got it from here?”

I shivered, the air-
conditioned building turning my wet clothes into a wearable refrigeration system. “I’d rather if you came in,” I said softly.

His laser-like gaze held mine and he shook hi
s head slowly. "Bad idea."

"Why?" My voice sounded husky but it wasn't because I was hesitant. In
that moment, I'd never been surer of anything in my life. I tried again, louder this time. "Why is it a bad idea, Matty?"

"You know the answer to that already
, Red. If I come in, I'm not going to want to leave. I'm going to want to hold you and then I’m going to want to kiss you-” He jammed a hand through his damp hair and let out a low growl of frustration. “I wish I could turn it on and off like you do, or push it aside so we could just work together, but I can't. It's always there for me, and the way I feel tonight only makes it worse."

"How do you feel tonight?"

"Mad. Mad that you had to go through that as a kid. Mad that I have to work for your father. Mad that he's your father at all. Mad that you didn't tell me the truth. And furious with myself because I fucking want you anyway, and what does that make me?"

"It makes you human. It makes both of us human."

Heart in my throat, I took his hand and walked backward through my door, leading him with me. "Stay with me. Let's make each other forget the past. Your mom and mine. We'll forget Mickey and this whole stupid deal and just let go."

"I can't just let go."

"You can with me. I won't judge you, Matty."

"What if I hurt you?"

"I'm made of tougher stuff than that, and I know something you don't."

"What's that?"

"You would never hurt me."

I rolled up onto my tiptoes and kissed him, slipping my tongue between his lips on a sigh.
Please,
my soul begged.

On a gro
an, he responded, his tongue tangling with mine, taking and giving all at once. I craned my neck back to give him the space he needed and, when he grabbed my hips and hoisted me up, I responded by wrapping my legs around his lean waist. He palmed my ass as we walked, bumping into walls as we went. He grunted when his elbow smashed against the closet doorknob, but he didn't falter.

"
Are you sure?" he muttered against my mouth.

"
Yes! Yes, yes, yes. Bedroom is the second door on the right," I said, between kisses. I locked my arms around his neck, hanging on tight as he let go of my bottom to open the door. He crossed the room in three long strides and set me on the floor.

I yanked off my wet shirt and pa
nts and tossed them to the carpet, excitement and elation melting away any shyness.

"I don't have a fucking c
ondom again," he said in a guttural voice, eyes glued to my body even as he stripped the nearly transparent T-shirt over his head. "I keep doing that on purpose, thinking if I don't have one, it will stop me from trying to fuck you, but it's clearly not working."

I choked out a laugh and
jumped on the bed so I could watch him undress. "That's funny, because I think I’m doing the exact opposite."

He slanted a brow at me and planted his hands on his hips. "What do you mean?"

I reached into my bedside table and pulled out a strip of three condoms and tossed them into the air in his direction. "I'm more pragmatic. I keep telling myself it's the lure of the forbidden fruit and if I keep them handy, just the knowledge that I could have sex with you if I wanted to will be enough to keep me from doing it."

"Looks like we were
both wrong."

I nodded slowly, mouth going dry as he tugged his jeans
, underwear and socks off and kicked them into the corner. "Looks that way."