Beyond Control

chapter Twenty-Three



Dallas's good mood lasted until he got Lex to his room. It had taken too long to get from Five back to Four, especially when Jade had roused just enough to protest at leaving her driver behind. Still riding the buzz of having Lex curled trustingly against his chest, Dallas had ended up being too charitable, and Noelle was currently hovering over a dotty old refugee from a Victorian novel who had earnestly asked if Dallas could use a valet.

A gang leader with a valet. Jesus Christ, he hated Cerys.

At least the new arrivals had somewhat distracted Noelle. Dallas figured he could thank Jasper for that, one way or another. But all of the delays meant that by the time he helped Lex out of her blood-soaked clothes, bruises had begun to form on her body.

And that made him rage.

"I just need a bath," she protested. "And some gel for my hand."

"Shh." He turned on the shower and climbed in with her, blocking the worst of the spray with his body as he eased her hair aside and started a slow exploration. "Your face is swelling up, too. What happened?"

"I got smacked, what do you think?" She twisted away from his touch. "I'm covered in blood, that's the bad part."

"Lex." It came out as a snarl that echoed off the tile, and he fought to moderate his tone. Fought and failed. "Let me take care of you, for Christ's sake. Let me do this."

"I--" A shudder wracked her. "Okay, fine."

Seizing hold of his frayed self-control with both hands, Dallas edged her under the showerhead. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. You just scared the hell out of me."

"I know." The water plastered her hair to her head and ran red with the blood that hadn't quite dried.

He poured shampoo in his hands and worked it into her hair. "Why'd you do it?"

"The opportunity presented itself," she answered dourly.

That simple. That cool. For all that she was tolerating his attentions, Lex was still pissed at him. "Because I dealt with Cerys."

"I took him out," she said stormily. And I did it on my terms, not yours."

"Okay." He cupped her cheeks and tilted her head back. "Look at me, Lex. Believe me when I say this. I don't give a f*ck. As long as you're okay, Cerys and Fleming and everyone in both their sectors can burn. And Gareth f*cking Woods, too."

She stared dully back. "Stop it, Dallas."

He opened his mouth and shut it again without speaking. Talking wasn't getting it done, so he'd listen. He'd prove he could listen. Maybe that was what she needed, to know she could draw a line and ask him not to cross it, even if the line was this simple.

Stop it.

In silence, he washed the blood from her hair and body, taking careful note of her injuries. When the water finally ran clear, he turned it off and wrapped her in an oversized towel, using a second to work the water from her hair. "Will you let me bandage your hand?"

Lex nodded and tugged the towel higher on her chest. "I need something to wear."

Because there wasn't anything else, he found her a clean T-shirt and toweled himself off while she pulled it on. He took just enough time to drag on a pair of jeans and went in search of the med kit.

Impossible not to compare this to the last time someone had gotten patched up in his suite. Noelle had babied Jasper's tiny cut before kissing every part the man had to make it all better. That had been a night of dedicated debauchery, a night he'd almost crossed the near-invisible line he'd drawn for himself and f*cked Lex cross-eyed, even though he hadn't collared her.

She'd been pissed at him the next morning, pissed that he'd gotten her off but refused to get in her, pissed over his arbitrary line and how ridiculous she found it. Dicks aren't required for f*cking, Declan. A certain proclamation, delivered with a tilted brow that invited him to imagine a whole world of scenarios that didn't require dicks even before she added, I should know.

Having watched her f*ck Noelle on a dimly lit stage more than once now, he suspected she'd been right about that, too.

When he returned to the couch, he found Lex curled up on one end, her legs tucked beneath her, rubbing her fingers over the tattoo on her wrist.

He thought of what Doc had said and damn near bit through his tongue to keep from commenting. Instead, he set the kit on the couch and knelt in front of her. Slow and easy. That's what he had to do.

Gentle.

"Do you want Jade to stay here?" he asked as he examined the cut on her hand. A safe, neutral topic to test the waters with. If Lex wasn't planning to stay, she'd be less likely to make long-term plans involving the gang. Assuming any plans concerning Jade could be long-term.

"That was my deal," she whispered. "Her freedom for Woods's life."

He'd grumbled over Noelle. He didn't have the heart to do it about Jade now, not with Lex looking so bruised and hurt and sad. "She'll have a place," he promised, "and whatever Doc needs to make her comfortable. But, Lex..."

She shook her head stubbornly. "Trix. She came from Five--you know that. What you don't know is that she kicked that shit, too. She did it, and she'll know how to help Jade."

Maybe he should have been surprised, but he wasn't. Trix was sexy curves over steel, the kind of tough that only came from surviving hell. It was most of the reason she fit in with the O'Kanes. "Is Trix gonna go for ink?"

"I don't know." Lex pulled away slightly, her eyes shuttered. "I won't know, Dallas. That's not who I am, not anymore."

Unable to stop himself, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed his mouth to her temple. "I'm sorry, Lex. I'm f*cking sorry. I'll do better. I need you. We all do."

She stiffened. "I did everything, Dallas. I gave you all those things you wanted. I played my part, I did my job--I even killed that man. Not for myself, because I was scared or pissed off, but for you. So you could rest. I'm here, in your room and in your f*cking clothes...and you still don't understand."

"I hurt you." Even the admission grated, but it was the truth. "I've never had to do this before. The submission, all of it--it was always about the bed. I should have been more careful. I should have protected you better."

"Protected me from yourself?" Shaking her head, she pushed against his chest. "It's on me. I should have known how wrong this would go."

His arms tightened instinctively, and he couldn't stop them. This was it. This was where fear overcame him, fear of losing the person he needed more than air, more than the blood in his veins. Fear of letting her slip away only to find that nothing would satisfy him ever again.

This was the moment he would close his hands around the one thing he should have cherished and crush the light out of it, because he was too selfish to let something beautiful escape.

He could keep her here. No one would stop him, not if he played it right. He could wear her down, use what he knew of her body and her needs, break down those walls so completely she wouldn't be able to find two bricks to stack together.

He was Dallas f*cking O'Kane, king of Sector Four. She belonged to him.

"One kiss," he whispered. "Give me one kiss."

Silence. Then she wrenched out of his arms so fast she almost tumbled to the floor. "This is why," she whispered hoarsely. "Noelle wanted me to tell her I'd stay, but I can't, and this is why."

He clenched his fists until his fingers ached to keep from reaching for her. "You can stay. I won't--" The words were broken glass in his throat, cutting him as he forced each one free. "It was goodbye, Lex. Just a kiss goodbye."

She eyed him warily before finally taking a step back. "I can't right now. Not tonight."

Fear. There was fear in her eyes, and that was when he recognized the horrifying truth. This wasn't the moment. The moment had come and gone, and he hadn't seen it. He'd closed his fingers tight enough to crush the trust out of her, and he hadn't even realized it.

Closing his eyes spared him the sight of her, but not the guilt. Not the pain. "Okay. Just go. You can go."

Her breath caught on a sob, but the only other sounds were of soft, quick footsteps...and the slamming of the door.

He waited long enough for her to be well and gone before rocking to his feet. Mechanically, he pulled on socks and boots, buckled his belt and found a T-shirt. Familiar motions, things his body could do without thought.

He wasn't going to think. Couldn't afford to, not while he was still sober enough to chase Lex down and try to change her mind.

There might not be enough whiskey in the world to drown out the knowledge that he'd put fear in Lex's eyes, but he was damn sure going to find out. After all, he was Dallas f*cking O'Kane.

And Dallas O'Kane was all he'd ever be. Declan had to die tonight, and take all those messy personal feelings with him. Weakness and vulnerability and love.

Whiskey oblivion was a fitting way to start the rest of his lonely, miserable life.





Jasper



When people split up, it always ricocheted like a f*cking bullet, ripping through everyone who happened to be close by.

You couldn't get much closer to Lex than Noelle. Jasper was closer to Dallas, which left him shit out of luck, pushed out of his own bed while Lex cried on his girlfriend's shoulder.

He went to the warehouse. Dallas liked to work with his hands when shit got to be too much, and there were always crates to be built and piles of salvage to be picked apart and sorted.

Not tonight.

He heard the crashing sounds from outside the building, and they only got worse when he slipped inside. Louder. Lights flickered in the workroom, and the crack of shattering wood punctuated rhythmic thuds as Dallas smashed a sledgehammer into what had probably been a stack of newly built crates not so long ago.

Jasper rubbed the knot forming at the base of his neck and groaned. "Come on, man. What the f*ck?"

Dallas paused, but only to snag a half-empty bottle of whiskey off the table. He took a healthy swig before waving it at Jasper. "My f*cking booze. My f*cking crates. I can smash them all day long because I'm Dallas O'Kane."

"Sure." Jasper bent to retrieve a jagged splinter of wood from the floor. "But someone's gonna have to rebuild it all."

"Is that why you're here?" Dallas drank again, still clutching the sledgehammer in one white-knuckled fist. "Because your girlfriend's busy rebuilding things?"

Dallas O'Kane didn't fish for information, he demanded it. So this halting, roundabout question meant the world really was ending. "Why don't you ask me what you really want to know?"

The tortured noise Dallas made was that of a wounded animal. "Because I don't want to know. I don't want to know if I broke her so bad even Noelle can't fix it." Swinging the sledgehammer, he sent a shattered piece of wood flying toward the salvage pile. "You didn't see the look on her face, Jas. Lex was afraid of me. Lex."

There were a million ways to fear, and at least as many reasons why. "Should she have been?"

"I don't know." An admission. A plea for help. "F*ck, man. I don't f*cking know."

Jasper caught the handle of the sledgehammer and twisted it away from Dallas. "I don't know a lot about women, but I've been watching you and Lex for years."

"Yeah?" Dallas snapped. "Ever seen her terrified of me before?"

Christ help him not to beat his best friend's ass. "When I lived out on the farm, there was this dog there. Mean bastard, crazy. Must have bit a couple kids a year, but old Robbins kept him around because he was a damn good guard dog. Once the mutt got it in his head something was his, he'd rip up anyone who tried to take it."

Drunk as he was, Dallas eyed him suspiciously. "Robbins? The bastard with one hand torn to hell and back?"

"Uh-huh. Dog got him." Jasper hesitated. "I'm not good with words, but I know you have a crazy, mean dog in you. If you can't keep it in check, it'll bite the shit out of you."

"Don't worry about me. Worry about the rest of you." Dallas lifted the bottle again but didn't drink. Instead he stared at the label as the amber liquid sloshed back and forth. "I can't keep it in check. Never really could. Lex was the one wearing a collar, but she's had me on a leash for years. And now she's leaving."

"Maybe it's what she needs to do." Jasper snatched the bottle this time. "Maybe you need to let her. Because all I keep hearing is how low you are, how bad you f*cked up. How you don't want her to go. You haven't said jack shit about what's good for Lex."

"Because everything I try makes it worse," he roared, lunging across the space separating them. Dallas's hand closed around the bottle as they stood toe-to-toe, the potential for violence seething in the air between them. "Everything I do hurts her more," he repeated in a quiet, chilling voice. "So if I have to drink myself halfway to dead to find a way to let her leave, that's what I'm going to do."

"You can't," Jasper reminded him softly. "You're Dallas O'Kane."

"Not tonight." He closed his eyes, but not before Jasper got a glimpse of bleak, utter hopelessness. "Tonight I'm a man who has to figure out how to let go."

If he could figure out how to do that, then he might not have to. It didn't take a genius to see Lex didn't want to leave--if she did, she'd be long gone already, and none of them would ever hear from her again.

It didn't change the problem at hand. "Come on, then," Jasper said.

Sighing, Dallas let his hand fall away from the whiskey, but he didn't move. "I'm not going back to my room. It's full of her."

"Then where? Name the place, and I'll drive."

"I'll sleep in my office." Sudden, jagged laughter spilled free. "Funny, huh?"

Not much amused Jasper at the moment. "How's that?"

"Dallas O'Kane," he muttered. "Better get used to the bastard, because he's all that's left."

He'd started swaying, so Jasper pulled one arm up around his shoulders to support him. "No middle ground with you, is there?" Everything would work out fine, or the f*cking world was falling down. Nothing in between.

"That's what makes a winner, Jas. That's what makes a leader. You fight to get it all, or you go down trying. Accept nothing less."

"You know you're full of shit, right?"

Dallas took a half-hearted swing at him, listing them both to the side. "F*ck you."

"Yeah, okay." He stopped at the back exit and hesitated before reaching for the doorknob. "We're still here. No one's going anywhere."

"Everyone's always going somewhere. You've been gone since that girl passed out at your feet."

"That's crap," Jasper said firmly. "I'm right here, where I've always been."

Dallas swayed and put one hand against the doorjamb to hold himself up as he squinted at Jasper. "You're right there, but you're not where you've always been. And that's okay. I'm glad you're blissful, man. I just miss my brother."

Well, shit. "You're a chatty drunk." Jasper eased open the door. "You always wanna talk about your damn feelings."

Dallas snorted. "Enjoy it while I've got 'em."

"Scratch that. You're a weepy drunk."

"I f*cking well earned it tonight," he grumbled. "I went for all and got nothing."

"Finally, you're starting to get it."

Dallas mumbled something incoherent--probably the last couple swigs of whiskey hitting his bloodstream. Sloppy drunk, all right, and all Jas could do was lead him down the hall to his office and dump him on the couch.

And fetch him a cup of water. Dallas swatted at it, so Jasper poured it over his head and listened to him sputter as he settled in for the night on the rickety lounge chair in the corner.