Page 52 of Fighting for Valor
I expect him to argue with me, but he doesn’t say a word as I slip into his bathroom and shut the door. When I emerge five minutes later, he’s under the weighted blanket, the candle I gave him flickering on the bedside table.
My nipples tighten under the thin cotton t-shirt. He still has the balcony door open, and the crisp night air feels good on my skin.
“I’m going to hold you. Okay?” I ask as I wriggle under the blanket.
He nods, but the tension radiating off his body speaks volumes. It’s not okay. Not yet. “We’ll take it slow. Just like the other night. Did you get that sleep app I told you about?”
Without a word, he grabs his phone and starts the meditative music. I rest a hand on his shoulder, and he stiffens, then after a deep breath, relaxes a fraction.
I don’t know how long it takes him to get used to me next to him. An hour? I’m so tired, my eyes burn, but I don’t let myself sleep until he’s rolled onto his back, and I’m snuggled up to his side, my hand over his heart.
“Cara?” he says, sleep edging into his tone. “How can you understand when no one else does?”
“I don’t. But sometimes…comfort is universal.” Lifting my head from his pillow, I make sure his eyes are closed, then press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Sleep, Ripper. You’re safe here.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ripper
Soft hair tickles my neck, and I open my eyes. Out the window, a dull glow over the lake marks the transition from night to day. The candle burned out—hours ago, most likely—but it didn’t matter. Cara’s dark locks carry the scent of passion fruit and mango, and her deep, rhythmic breathing almost lulls me under again.
Shifting slightly, I tuck my hand behind my head and stare out over the water. I slept. All night. Inside. And while I remember having a nightmare where Faruk’s men surrounded me, taunting me and beating me, I only woke for a moment. Long enough for Cara to mumble an exhausted reassurance and snuggle closer.
She understands me. My brokenness. Last night, I wanted more. For one passionate kiss, I thought I could have it, too.
“Ripper?” Cara shifts, and fuck. Her body feels so right against mine. “Are you okay?”
Am I? Definitely not. There’s a beautiful, caring woman in my bed, and my hard on is straining against my shorts, but I’m not making a single move. “I owe you an explanation,” I manage. “About last night.”
“You don’t owe me anything.” She stretches, and the movement highlights her breasts, the tight nipples pebbling under my t-shirt. “I’m a big girl, Ripper. I can handle rejection.”
“No. Fuck, no.” I brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t rejecting you.” Her brown eyes hold such confusion, and I blow out a breath. Once I tell her what happened to me, she’ll never look at me the same way again. “Six months after they sent us to Hell Mountain, I managed to get access to a computer. Dislocated my shoulder to get free, and I sent—or tried to send—a message to COMSAT to let them know we were alive. But one of Kahlid’s guys found me. Knocked me out, and I woke up somewhere much worse.”
“What could be worse than a place they tortured you for six months?” Cara’s whisper holds so much emotion, and I guide her against my chest, needing to feel her solid weight, her soft curves, to keep myself grounded.
“Amir Abdul Faruk.” Even saying his name sends me careening towards a panic attack, but Cara’s hand strokes up and down my arm, and I force myself to breathe. “I woke up at the bottom of a well. I don’t know how long I was down there. Days, maybe a week?
“Over the next few months, he took everything from me. Even my name. Called me Isaad. I fought him. For so long. He told me my team was dead. That I’d killed them. Even that didn’t break me. Not completely. Not until…”
Cara digs her fingers into my bicep, and I tighten my arm around her, dropping my voice to a whisper. “He told his men to do anything they wanted with me.”
I don’t want to say the words. But I have to. Charlie jumps up onto the bed and lies down on my other side, and I squeeze my eyes shut. “I could handle the torture. Broken bones. Starvation. The scorpions that would come out at night and sting me. I can still feel them crawling all over me.” A half sob escapes, my throat raw, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. “But when they stripped me naked and held me down…”
Finish it. Just tell her the rest.
“They used me. And they laughed while they did it. Taking my name, my honor, that wasn’t enough. They had to take my soul too. Over and over and—”
Cara presses her finger to my lips. “Stop, Ripper. Look at me.”
I can’t. Shaking my head, I bury my face in her hair. “I wanted to die. Prayed for it. Begged. And I did. I couldn’t be myself anymore. Not after what they did to me. Ripper died, and Isaad? He did so many terrible things. For years. Until Ryker and Dax rescued me two months ago.”
Unable to say another word, I wait for her to go. To give up on me. Instead, she shifts, and her lips brush mine. “You did what you had to do.” Another kiss, this one at the corner of my mouth. “You lived.” The other corner. “You found Ripper again.”
Straddling me, Cara cups my cheeks and gently wipes away my tears. I still can’t face what I might see in her eyes. “I let him—”
“You didn’t let him do a damn thing.” The harsh edge to her voice demands I listen, and I swallow hard before I meet her gaze. Amber streaks in her irises flare, and her mouth is set in a grim line. “I don’t know what you did as Isaad. And I don’t care if you tell me.” Her cheeks turn bright red. “That came out wrong. I mean…crap. Before my meds, it’s like my brain’s ten steps ahead of my mouth.” With a huff, she rocks back slightly, her hips pressing against my dick, and feelings I have no right to have stir to life.
After she rubs the back of her neck, she returns her hands to my chest and tries again. “You did things. Things you’re ashamed of. Things Ripper would never do. But answer me this. Did Ripper do them?”
