“By eighteen, I was good at defending not only myself but her, I would chase them out with my bat
swinging. I’d learned to use my anger effectively, I had so much of it, so much hatred inside of me. I
would just keep hitting until my arms ached with the effort … I smashed two of her boyfriend’s cars up
in a bid to chase them off.” I shift position on the bed, pulling my legs out and stretching them out,
sighing heavily. “She would hate me after and make me go elsewhere to cool down so I slept rough for
days on end because she wouldn’t let me come home until I apologized to them for it, which meant
returning to being abused in one way or another.” I laugh sardonically, my wonderful mother and her
screwed-up sense of parenting.
“Ray was the first one to put me back down on my ass and show me I was no match for a man … He
wanted me to have sex with him and when I refused, he beat the crap out of me while trying to take me
by force, he tried to rape me. She came home and stopped it, but she never forgave me.” Jake tenses,
his whole body emanating so much anger, sadness, pain. He’s listening so intently, so silently and it’s
unnerving me. I know without looking that fury will be the dominant emotion on his face right now, I can
feel it and just push on blindly. “She always treated me like I caused it. I think Ray was the first man
she’d seriously fallen deeply in love with and it blinded her in the craziest of ways, she couldn’t see
what he was. It was after Ray that I finally found the courage to run away with Sarah, to run away from
her and what she kept doing to me … It’s why I never go back, why I don’t want to go back. To that
house and the endless memories of things that went on. She wasn’t a real mother, Jake … I was the
one who cooked and cleaned and took care of things, took care of her. She was so wrapped up in her
affairs and relationships it was like I was invisible. She didn’t want to know what they were doing; she
didn’t want to face it. She sure as hell didn’t try to save me.” I sniff back my unshed tears. “I still dream
of things that terrify me, when I’m not laid beside you in bed, they haunt me … You keep them away,
make me feel safe and stop the past from getting to me … You have no idea.” I finally sag and more
tears fall down my cheek, calming my breath and trying to push it all back down inside. I feel like I’ve
just let a monumental weight from my shoulders but at the same time I’m being crushed with panic at
how Jake will react. Afraid to look at him, afraid to breathe. “That’s pretty much a condensed version of
everything you ever asked me about.” I mumble, so quietly it’s barely above a whisper, my head
hanging in shame as I stare at the fingers I’m twisting together. It wasn’t a detailed outpouring, but it’s
as much as I can handle. I don’t ever think I could give more.
“Emma?” His soft voice breaks and makes me look up to see the devastation on his face, his furrowed
brows and tear-filled eyes, the tight clenched jaw, holding back raw emotion. There’s nothing but agony
in his eyes.
“My angelo.” He smooths his hand across my cheek, removing a fresh tear as it rolls slowly down my
face.
“How can you love me knowing all that I am?” I mumble with so much conviction in my voice, I sound
hoarse. He lets me go and for a second, fear grips my body, fear that he’s walking away, that he’s
disgusted at me. As he moves back, forming distance the panic overwhelms me, my eyes widening but
he shakes his head as though in answer, slides his arms under me and pulls me to his lap. Wrapping
me in a proper embrace torso to torso, pulling my legs around him so we’re as close as humanly
possible. With his hand cupping my jaw, the other around my back and pulling me in, our faces
touching. I slide my arms around his neck, relaxing into his embrace, eyes wide with apprehension,
heart beating erratically.
“I want to find every one of those men, every single one and kill them with my bare hands … I would
serve life in jail for what I would do to them for hurting you. For touching you.” He growls, holding my
face to his so we’re only a breath apart. “How can I not love you, Emma? Everything you’ve told me
just makes me love you more, want to fiercely protect you more. Your strength, your undying will to
carry on despite it all … You’re an amazing woman, and after all of that, everything men showed you
about themselves, you still found it inside of you to trust me, bambino …To fall in love with me, to let
me touch you. You’ve no idea how immense that is … I’m in awe of you … You didn’t just survive,
Emma; you built a life for yourself that completely transformed what you came from, so that no one
would have ever guessed.” His mouth comes to mine, pressing me softly. “You’ve no idea just how
amazing you really are. I think I’ve just fallen in love with you all over again, il mio amore.” His words
cause so much bittersweet pain in my heart, elation, yet a crushing, overwhelming ache. Not because
his words have hurt me, but because they are exactly what I need to hear after so long. That in some
small way they’re a healing balm, a tiny start at making me feel whole again.
I wrap myself in him, pushing my head against his chest and listen to the sound of his heart, beating
faster than usual, his breath labored. My story has affected him physically, his body tense. I know he’s
mulling it all over, disgusted with what he’s heard but not at me.
I always believed he would look at me like some sort of slut or dirty whore if I told him, but he’s not.
He’s looking at me like I’m a fragile piece of glass and he wants to mend it; he wants to protect me. I
close my eyes and lean against him; surrounded by security and realize I’m not scared anymore.
“It’s hard for me to talk about this stuff … When I do, it brings it all to the front of my mind and it plagues
me for a long time after.” I confess shamefully, unable to lift my voice above a breath.
“I don’t want that … I’m so grateful you finally opened up to me. I know what it’s taken, you’ve no idea
how it makes me feel to know you trust me this much.” His eyes are cool green again as he brings my
chin to him to look at me deeply, clear, and bright yet still so sad. “I finally understand why you shut me
out anytime we got close, Emma … I get it … I’m sorry, bambino, I’m sorry that I was such an asshole
and I kept pushing you.” He’s forlorn, full of regret.
I don’t want him to feel that way, we’re here now, he came for me and he’s changed everything. I
needed his rejection to finally get me to this place where I can open up and let him in.
“You didn’t know, Jake … You couldn’t know … I was so used to pushing things down and being alone,
closing doors, keeping people at arm’s length to protect myself.” I kiss him gently on the mouth. “It
doesn’t matter anymore. I’m here, you’re here, we both want the same thing. Erase the past …
Remember?” I hold his face with my fingertips, so we can look into each other’s eyes, empowered
suddenly.
“I remember.” He looks down and frowns, so much swirling in the depths of those eyes. “Some pasts
may be harder to forget though. Some men will always be on my hit list, no matter how much time
passes.” There’s an edginess to his tone and I brush my fingers across his lips softly.
“Forget them … For me. So, we can have a future, without the past interfering.” He raises his head and
once again locks green eyes on cool blue ones.
“Does that mean you will marry me someday?” He smiles, his eyes glinting, still haunted by my
confession. I can tell he wants to talk more but he knows me, I’ve let it out and now I want it left alone.
There’s nothing more I can say, I don’t want to be more specific, no more digging into it.
“Maybe, when you learn how to ask me properly … I’m not one of your leggy bimbos who’s ready to
drop their pants on command.” I pout, pretending to be upset and deflecting talk of marriage. I’m not
ready for that whole mess of emotions just yet, I’ve had no chance to consider a life with marriage in it.
The awkwardness is slowly dispersing, he smiles, pulling my chin down to kiss me seductively, his
mouth effortlessly making mine surrender with tender fluttering kisses, then pulls away.
“I’m pretty sure I do get you to drop your underwear on command, miele.” He strokes my face with his
thumb, tears drying and all but gone. He’s steering the conversation away from my painful topic to let
me move on, yet this new topic has me antsy. “As for asking you properly … I’m Italian, bambino …
When I ask you, there will be fireworks and a floor show … Trust me … You won’t be able to refuse.”
That Carrero confidence! He already knows I’ll say yes, does he? I don’t even know if marriage is
something I even want just yet.
I wrap myself around him fiercely, wiping out everything I’ve told him and just return to the safe security
of his strong body, shielding me from every bad thing I have ever faced alone.
“We’ll see.” I bite my lip through a smile, squealing when that frowning face dives in with tickling hands
and hauls me down with him.
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