“You scared?” he asks.
“A little. My face hurt for a couple days after what we did. I’m okay though,” I tell him. “Just do it.” I turn away from Pike and tense up, waiting for the blow, but I’m greeted first by his caring touch as he runs his hands soothingly up and down my arms. But the waiting is just causing my anxiety to escalate. “Please, Pike. Now.”
The knuckles of his fist hammer into me along my shoulder blade in a puncture of violent pain that shoots down the length of my arm. The force of the blow knocks me forward, and I fall to my knees, catching myself on my hands as I cringe against the pain.
Pike quickly instructs, “On your side,” I immediately lie down when he strikes again.
“Ooow!” I scream as he kicks his booted foot into the same shoulder blade, followed by another excruciating blow, and then another. “PIKE!” I shriek in utter agony as I arch my back and roll on the floor, heaving through my breathless cries.
Pike drops beside me and brushes the hair away from my face as I writhe against the throbbing pain. He scoops me into his lap and holds me firmly against him while he whispers in my ear, “Just breathe. Calm down and just breathe,” over and over as he rocks me in a lulling sway.
“It hurts to breathe,” I strain. It hurts to talk too, like someone is stepping on my lungs.
“Talk to me.”
“There’s so much pressure in my chest and back.”
He picks me up off the floor and carries me in his arms to his bed where he lays me down on my back.
“Take slow, deep breaths, okay?” he says, and I try to steady my trembling breathing into smooth inhales and exhales. “That’s it. Just try to relax.”
I lie here for quite a while until the pain starts to dull into a continuous heated ache. After I take a few Tylenol, I shift to my side, bringing my shoulder off the bed to relieve some of the pressure. Pike spoons in behind me and lifts my top to bare my shoulder.
“Fuck,” he murmurs.
“What?”
“This looks really bad.”
“That’s the point, right?” I groan.
“Yeah,” he says. “This just already looks nasty.”
He gently plants a few kisses around my back where I hurt, and then drags his hand over my side and up my stomach. I push his hand away when he runs it over my breast.
“Not tonight,” I tell him.
“What’s going on?” he questions. I never turn down sex with Pike. It’s always been something I’ve needed. He’s my painkiller, taking away the ick in me, but for some reason, I don’t feel like I need it this time.
“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “I just . . . I’m okay. I don’t know why I feel this way, but I do.”
“Come here,” he says as he gently helps me roll over to face him. “What’s going on?”
I see the confusion in him, but I feel it too. I’ve always been transparent with Pike, so I shrug and try to explain, “I don’t know. Everything has just been so crazy lately. Maybe I’m just distracted, but I feel like I’m okay to not have sex with you right now.”
“Are you sure? Because I worry about you. This worries me about you.”
“I’m okay,” I try to assure him.
“You’ve always needed me.”
“I still need you, Pike. I’m always going to need you,” I tell him and then give him a kiss.
We both linger in it for a moment before he pulls back and asks, “So how much longer do you think?”
“He’s pretty firm on having me to himself,” I explain. “He despises Bennett, so I don’t think this will stretch out too long. It’s hard to say though, but he’s really intense. I think if he’s triggered at just the right moment, he would snap.”
“So you think he has it in him to kill Bennett?”
Swallowing hard, I think about what I know about Declan and answer honestly, “Yeah.” But the thought makes my gut twist, knowing that I’m about to ruin this man’s life by luring him into becoming a murderer. Pike and I always agreed from the start that we would make sure the blame lies elsewhere. It’s the only way to ensure we remain safe and can move on to our new life of wealth and satisfaction. With Bennett alone, this was so easy, but now having Declan involved has made it a little difficult for me to keep my focus.
IT’S BEEN HALF an hour since Declan went up to the rooftop deck. When I got here and he was helping me take my coat off, I flinched in pain. He’d demanded to see my back and when I showed him the black and purple bruises that cover most of my upper back, he lost his shit. I’ve never seen him so furious before. He then apologized and said he needed some space to calm down. He grabbed his coat and went up to his private deck and has been there ever since, leaving me here on his couch waiting for him. But the temperatures are in the negatives, and I’m worried.
I go ahead and shrug my coat on before walking up the stairs to the door that leads outside. I spot him through the window, sitting on one of the wicker chairs. He has his face hidden in his hands, leaning over with his elbows resting on his knees as the snow falls over him.
I feel like shit.