Page 17 of A Method to His Madness

And if I was a king, I’d sell my kingdom for one pump in that little thing.

Caleb looks back at me when I shiver. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Which way is the boys’ locker room?”

I gulp, memories assailing me. Flesh. White towels whipping. Hands everywhere. My own screaming. “That way,” I murmur, nodding at the dark hallway to our right.

“Are you ready?”

Two days ago, I would have said no, but with Caleb holding my hand, I’m steady. “Yes.”

We journey down the squeaky corridor, arriving at the entrance to the boys’ locker room. The door looks so small compared to the looming object in my memory. That observation gives me hope that the rest of the place won’t be so scary, either, but when Caleb pushes inside, leading the way, I follow him and…

The memories come rushing back.

There, in the corner, is where I was pushed, my skirt shoved up, my thighs groped in sweaty hands, the smell of sweat and grass choking off my air.

“How do you feel, angel?”

“It’s only harmless now because it’s empty,” I whisper.

He makes a sound of understanding. “Ashley?” He steps in front of me. “You can come in here and leave at will. No one is going to keep you here. You’re safe.”

I tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “I know.”

Something over my shoulder catches his attention, causing a corner of his mouth to tick up. He leaves me standing alone for the briefest of seconds—and a moment later, I feel something hard and wooden slip into my hand.

I look down to find I’m holding a bat.

“What am I going to do with this?”

He crosses his arms, observing me closely. “What do you want to do with it?”

“Bust up some lockers.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

I huff a laugh, that sense of freedom that was instilled yesterday increasing in size. Ballooning. “Are you serious?”

“You’re asking the man who just busted down the door?”

A laugh tumbles out of me. I’m laughing in the locker room that houses my darkest memories. I can’t believe it. Tears rush to my eyes and along with them, a surge of confidence finds me. Outrage. Strength. Might. I look around and allow myself to see the faces of those tormentors, some of whom I still cross paths with in town.

I whirl around without a second thought and bash the closest locker with the bat, leaving a dent the size of my forearm. I smash the metal one more time for good measure, leaving twin trenches behind, a lot like the scars that were left on my soul that day. Adrenaline snaps in my veins. Exhilaration races through me, no direction, just an implosion. I’m finally being given the chance to fight back. My anger is being validated.

Dropping the bat, I turn slowly to face the man who is pushing me higher and higher aloft like a fierce wind beneath my wings. Helping me heal. Restoring the colors of the world around me.

And I go toward him without hesitation, knowing that a physical relationship with him might be morally wrong, but in this moment, it’s not even a choice.

When he senses my intentions, his chest heaves once, twice, fire roaring to life in those deep blue eyes. He catches my hips in his big hands, squeezing, before sliding them around to my ass and dragging me up the front of his body into his arms, his mouth falling open on a groan when I sling my thighs about his hips, my sex encountering and cradling a very large, very hard ridge. Snuggling it tight, on instinct, a purr waking up in my throat.

“Ashley. Ohfuck.”

“Erase the memories completely with me,” I whimper against his mouth, the shock of being touched and enjoying it, loving it, blotting out yet another black mark from the past. “When I think of this place, I only want to remember this.” I rub my mouth against his jaw. “How this is where you gave me my first real kiss. The first kiss I’ve everwanted.”

CHAPTER 9

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