Page 20 of Twisted Legacy

Thea ignored everything I said and skipped out on her therapy session again. The screaming at night is how I know she needs to talk it out. I want her to confront whatever she’s blocking, but I can’t force her to do it. I climb out of bed and walk over to her room. When LJ sticks her head out the door, I shoo her back to bed. I know she’s worried and wants to be there for her friend, but I’m still the better person to go in there and disarm her when she gets violent in her sleep. Some nights it’s just screams and others, she’s clenching the knife we left for her.

I stare down to see if it’s a knife day. It’s not. Not yet. I climb into bed, draping my arm around her waist. She stiffens when I touch her. I hate that it’s still happening. “It’s me, LaReaux.”

She’s shaking but slowly relaxes into my hold, allowing me to pull her into the curve of my body. “You’re safe. Get some rest.” I draw figure eights across her skin, and listen to her breathing even out as she falls back to sleep.

Thea, mumbling my name, wakes me a few hours later. “Hmm?”

“Don’t leave me.”

“Never, sweetness. You’re stuck with me.”

I’m not quick to make promises about my time and intentions, but with Thea, I’m clear on this. I want what’s best for her. I want her to heal, and I want her to face down the punks who did this to her, and let them see she’s stronger and better than before.

She shifts in my arms, her ass rubbing against me. That brings up another truth that I’m trying to ignore. “Be still, LaReaux.”

Thea’s gorgeous. Sexy as hell and I love that she’s honest about her sexuality. The memory of her picking me up in a bar and fucking me in an alley lives rent free in my head. I’m no saint. It wouldn’t take much for me to push her onto her back and feast between her legs.

I let out a pained groan when her ass brushes against my dick. It’s not getting the memo that we’re not going there with her again. When she rolls over, things get worse for me. She hooks her leg over mine and grinds against me in her sleep. It takes every bit of resistance I can muster not to grab her and help her get off.

I fist the sheet behind her back while she dry humps me. Letting whatever she’s dreaming about play out. Grateful that at least for now, there are no memories terrorizing her in her dreams. My cock brushes against her when I finally decide to move away.

“Fuck.” I pant on a soft breath. I need to get out of this bed, out of this house, away from her. I’ve already come to terms with the fact that I can’t have this girl. Staying here is messing with my resolve.

I put more space between us, and turn, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. Her soft whimper almost makes me change my mind.Almost. I grab a blanket from my room and stretch out on the floor at the foot of her bed. This way, I’m keeping my promise and protecting her from all the shit I’m fantasizing about doing to her.

I’ve slept on floors plenty of times. It doesn’t bother me, but I’m having a tough time winding down and getting comfortable. My dick is standing at attention, begging for relief. I grip the base, trying to relieve the ache. “I know, buddy. I know. But she’s asleep, and she’s hurt.” I say, trying to overcome the desire to make her dreams my reality. That doesn’t help, so I focus on the fact that she’s only eighteen. Way too young for me.

That thought makes the throbbing in my dick ease. Slightly. The other part of my brain rationalizes that eighteen is still legal and I’ve already fucked her. I close my eyes at the onslaught of memories. Fuck! If I don’t get control, I’m either going to fuck my hand or crawl back into bed and let her rub her ass on me again.

I think about her horrendously timed flirting earlier and remind myself of the words she used when I didn’t cave. She’d be happy to fuck anyone if I let her out of the house. She was wasting time, avoiding having to talk to her shrink about all the damage her attack has caused. That thought deflates my dick. I yank my hands out of my sweatpants. Thea doesn’t need me lusting after her. I’m here to get her started on the road to recovery. This isn’t us playing house or moving our relationship forward. I shouldn’t be thinking about how fucking adorable she looks, walking around barefoot in a tank top and sweatpants.

When we leave here, things will go back to normal, and I’ll be just as professional as I was before.

Chapter14

Thea

LJ squeezes my hand as we drive the last stretch of road leading to campus. I give her a small smile and lean my head back against the seat, staring out the window at the trees. Has it only been three weeks since the last time I walked through campus? It feels like a lifetime. LJ and I wanted to come back last week, but the stupid head doctor refused to release me back into society. He said he couldn’t diagnose my current mental health state since I refused to talk to him.

I’d still be stuck in Palisade Shores, bored out of my mind, if it weren’t for LJ. I took Wolfe’s suggestion and talked to her, letting her record our conversation, then gave permission for her to play it for the shrink. He was concerned about my desire to stab people until LJ and Wolfe explained that’s my normal base line. They may have also promised to make sure I continue therapy. I’ve agreed to no such terms, but it seemed to appease him and here I am. If he’s happy to take Moira and Scott’s money while I sit there and stare at the walls or clean my nails for an hour, then so be it.

My stomach flips, thinking about Deacon Wolfe. Despite my attitude and our many arguments about therapy, he’s been a steady source of strength during my recovery. We played board games, sat in silence, and ate his amazing cooking. It was like the three of us were in our own little world. The only thing that would have made it better, is if Sasha could have been there too. I lost my phone, but hers is one number I remember by heart. Deacon let me use his burner phone so I could let her know why I probably won’t be coming home for Christmas like I planned. I reluctantly agreed with everyone who said it’s probably not a good idea for me to travel with one arm. Nothing’s changed in Nags Creek, and I’d be signing my death warrant by walking those streets with my dominant hand out of commission.

The warmth in my belly slides lower, as I think about Deacon crawling into bed with me every night. He’s the only one who knows just how bad my nightmares are. Every night, he held me down, and risked getting sliced open, until his voice penetrated the terror in my brain, then wrapped me in his arms, holding me close. It felt so good to be pressed against him. But no matter how many signals I gave or how much I rubbed against him, he wouldn’t let his hands wander across my body.

I don’t want a domesticated life and I’ve never seen myself in traditional gender roles. I think everyone should do what they’re good at or most comfortable with. There’s no sexier sight than Wolfe in the kitchen, his jeans hanging low on his hips, hair wet as he handed me a cup of orange juice, and a bottle of water, before letting me have coffee.

I huff as the cab comes to a stop in front of my dorm. We’re back at school now and no matter how cozy things were in our house, he’s still my teacher and clearly not interested. First step in stopping the fantasy of us being together, is to stop thinking of that building in Palisade Shores asourhouse.

It’s the middle of the evening and there’s always a few people hanging out around the first floor lobby area. I’ve had my mask off at the house. I didn’t need to hide my thoughts from LJ, but here, here I do. I slip my bitch don’t care in place, pull my hoodie down over my head and put my sunglasses on before sliding out of the cab. I sling my bag over my good shoulder and strut to the doors. They hiss open, announcing our arrival into the empty lobby. LJ holds up her phone, answering my unspoken question. “There’s a party. That’s where everyone is.”

Isn’t there always a party? I breathe a sigh of relief as we make our way over to the elevator. At least I won’t have to face anybody until I go back to class in a few days. I let us into my room and lock the door behind us, double checking the lock’s engaged before going to my bedroom to offload my bag. When I come back out, LJ tells me to relax while she takes care of dinner. My lips twitch, because taking care of it leaves a lot of room for interpretation. She knows how to cook a few things, thanks to Deacon, but she’s still not the best at it.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. I promise your dinner the first night back is edible.” She pulls containers out of a bag. “Deacon made us enough food for the first few days.” She looks over at me, a sardonic grin on her face. “Guess I should go back to calling him Coach Wolfe since we’re back at school.”

“Good luck, with that.” I flop down on the couch, pulling my feet up and tucking them underneath me. “I’m not changing anything up.”

“That’s because you were already addressing him informally. You dropped the Coach from his title and just call him Wolfe.”

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