“Calm, Maisie.”
It was a demand, but one woven through with utter authority mingled with his own calmness. While she panicked for no known reason, he saw it and acted, adjusted accordingly. It was making her head spin. Staring out over the small patch of overgrown lawn and into the trees, her chest continued to heave with what felt like some sort of attack—maybe a panic attack? She wasn’t sure; she’d never been allowed to a therapist because Carter claimed their insurance didn’t cover it.
“Listen, Mais. Hear the crickets?”
With a pitiful whimper, she nodded.
“Lean back, relax. I got ya.”
Stiffly, she tried to obey, surrendering her will to his because she was too exhausted to shoulder it anymore. When the back of her head gently thudded against his sturdy shoulder, he wrapped her up even more tightly in his long arms. She could feel his worn jeans beneath her bare bottom. She could feel his steady, even breathing. She could feel the thud of his strong heart and the warmth of his arms, and the pressure applied to her body made her relax fraction by fraction.
“No one’s comin’ to get ya, got it?”
Feeling like a frightened child, she nodded. No one was coming for her. She needed that reassurance, and though she still barely knew him, she was beginning to trust him. If this man had known her since the night of Lindsay’s party—if he’d rescued her from further molestation and killed her attacker—she figured she could extend the smallest bit of trust his way. So far, he was a man of his word.
“Tell me where you went, Mais. Why’d ya freak just now?”
Eyes searching the darkened tree line, she felt tears threaten. In truth, she had no clue, but if she dug a little further, scratched at the surface of her sheltered heart, she began to see why. She didn’t want to be trapped. She needed an out. With Carter, she always had a back up plan, and the thought hit her like lightning.
The hard drive.
Her blood curdled in her veins. She’d once typed a letter, detailing all the abuse, chronicling it in case she ever went missing—in case she ever died under mysterious circumstances. Carter’d found the letter, but there was still a possibility he’d saved it…and after he’d found out she was afraid he’d one day kill her…
“Mais?”
Jaeger’s voice was soft, and she had to admit she liked him calling her by a shortened name. In the night, amidst the crickets and the trees and the stars, and with her legs still quivering from all the attention her aching cunt had been receiving, the truth began to bubble up in her chest like a spring. There was no containing it. Not with a man like him—a man who she thought could be her real knight in shining armor. If he truly wanted her as badly as he said he did…then maybe she could trust him more, could let her guard down, if only a little. She imagined how damn good it would feel to tell the truth—almost as good as pulling that trigger.
“I…I don’t like feelin’ trapped,” she finally whispered. He said nothing, though his grip on her tightened. The affect was still a calming one.
“I’ll leave the doors open,” he teased, leaning forward so his rough cheek was pressed to hers. That response netted a giggle from her plush lips, and she reached up a dainty hand to cover it. She felt the rumbling of his own laughter answer hers.
“You’re safe, though, Mais. Ain’t gonna trap you, not in the way you’re used to.”
“How do you know?” she mused in an exasperated whisper. It was sort of annoying how much this man saw, for he saweverything.
“You’ve been mind fucked, baby doll. Brainwashed. You knew it, freed yourself, did what you had to do to survive, right?”
A thick lump rising in her throat, she nodded, hot tears pooling before racing down her cheeks.
“I’m here now, got it? And I ain’t leavin’. And whatever sick bullshit he did to you…”
Jaeger trailed off, arms tightening. He was angry for her about Carter. It flooded her with relief, and she sniffled, choking back a sob.
“But…how do you know about me? My marriage?”
“I don’t know it all, Mais. Not unless ya tell me, and tell it to me straight. Don’t have to now, but when you’re ready, I’m all ears. I know men like Carter. Being with him for all those years, seein’ how ya are now…pretty easy to see how bad he fucked you up.”
Through her tears, a choked laugh escaped.
“Yeah, I am fucked up, huh? I don’t even know you and you’ve…you…you know…” she muttered, feeling hot with embarrassment at those memories.
“Known me for six years, baby. Just didn’t know you knew me. And yeah, he may have put ya through hell, but Maisie Jane, you’re stronger ‘an all that, ya hear? Only woman strong enough for a man like me, and I saw it the night I met ya. So you’re not fucked up, and you quit that thinkin’. You’re a survivor, got it?”
His speech, however choppy with his deep southern drawl, was the most eloquent and meaningful speech she’d ever heard in her entire life, and as he held her on that porch, she curled up in his lap and wept, feeling absolved and free.
11
Maisie