“Why was that?” he asked, his voice a low rasp by her right ear.
“Before she left, our asshole of a stepfather went to jail, so Vanessa thought I’d be okay for the next three years. But then Mom got a new boyfriend who made the stepdad look like Santa Claus.” Kat felt his grip tense briefly as he stroked down the length of her arms, but she forgot his reaction when his hands moved to lather her stomach in lazy circles. Leaning her head back on his chest, she continued. “So I rarely spoke to her because I wanted her to focus on the new chance she’d gotten at having a decent life. She didn’t need to be stressed out about any of my shit back home.”
“You were pretty selfless for being so young. Strong, too.”
A stunted, humorless laugh echoed in the small room. “I wasn’t either of those things. But I owed it to Nessie to let her go. She’d had to act like my mother almost my whole life because ours constantly chose her addictions over us.”
Flashes of memories from deep in her past crept out from the darkness to close in on her. Her throat was thick with old fear and forgotten ghosts. She took some deep breaths through her nose and forced herself to concentrate on Irish’s strong hands now spreading the shower gel over her breasts and up her neck.
Placing a soft kiss at her temple, he traced the scar in the center of her chest and asked, “Will you tell me how you got this?”
Kat opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. She shook her head back and forth a few times on his pec. “I know you have some idea of my shitty life, Irish, but trust me, you don’t want to know the fucked-up details.”
His strong arms wrapped around her waist and he turned them to the side so the shower spray hit them both. With him leaning back against the wall, she let her weight sink into him. Between the water running down her front and his body behind her, she felt wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, and yet her insides were starting to convulse as though she stood naked in a snowstorm.
“I want to know everything about you, Katherine Terese MacGregor. Even the bad stuff.” When she started to shake her head again, he stopped her by tucking his face down by hers. “Hey,” he said gruffly. “I will fight anything—past, present, or future—that tries to hurt you. But I can’t fight your demons unless you show them to me.”
“There’s no point. You can’t fight things from the past.”
“Sure we can. Look at how we fought your problem of slipping away when we make love. We found a way around it and beat it. So maybe there’re other things we can do to help heal the parts you feel are kind of broken, you know?”
His point was valid. Sort of. He’d been right about keeping her eyes open during sex. As long as she could see that it was him, her brain didn’t slip into survival mode without her consent. She’d even gotten to the point where she could close her eyes for a few seconds at a time and still be okay. That probably was due to the fact that Irish could win awards for Best Sweet Talker Ever. It wasn’t constant during sex, but she suspected he did it as a way to keep her in the moment with him. Whatever the reason, she loved it and hoped he never stopped.
So, yes, he had fixed one problem she’d had as a result of her past. But even still, she didn’t see how telling him the sordid details of what happened to her for the two years between Nessie moving out and leaving with Lenny would help her. Her life was what it was. She’d learned to bury it and do her best to never let it see the light of day.
“Please, kitten,” he whispered. “Trust me enough to let me in.”
Sighing, she rested her arms over his. If it meant that much to him, it was the least she could do. He’d already done so much for her without asking for anything in return and honestly, she cared for him in ways she couldn’t explain. She’d do anything for him. All he needed to do was ask. Even if it meant slicing open ancient wounds.
“My mom was an alcoholic and a druggie for as long as I can remember. Nessie said there was a time when we were really young that she was amazing, but I never knew that mother. Nessie was the one who made sure I had food, clean clothes, got to school, everything. And when my mom had men over, my sister kept me away from the house or distracted me as best she could.”
“Like watching The Odd Couple?”
Kat smiled wanly. “Yeah, like that.”
“What about your stepdad? What was his deal?”
The smile fell from her face. “He was super controlling and sometimes abusive. Most of the time he targeted my mom, but whenever he swung his attention our way, Nessie antagonized him so she would get the brunt, if not all, of what he dished out. He almost never laid a hand on me thanks to her.”