Page 121 of Five Fingers of Death

But he didn’t understand. Not really. “Not…for sex. I mean, since Zavala,” I answered quickly, my face reddening again. “It’s just—what I mean is?—”

“Hey.” He pressed a kiss to my lips, brushing my hair from my face. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. No judgments.”

Licking my lips, I tried to work up the courage to tell him, but I couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I haven’t…had sex willingly or enjoyed it in…a very long time.” My eyes flicked to his. I could see the rage swirling in their brown depths. “Since before…”

I didn’t need to finish my sentence. He understood perfectly. What I didn’t expect was for him to toss off the covers and get out of bed. I quickly pulled them over me, feeling very exposed. I didn’t understand what was going on, why he was so angry or pacing around the room. His jaw was set hard, and his hands were bunched into fists. With his jeans slung low around his waist, I was trapped between staring at the perfect lines forming down his waist and the anger building with each step he took.

“Jason—”

“I knew that,” he snapped quietly. “I fucking knew it, but—” He turned and paced in the other direction.

“Jason, I’m sorry if that’s a problem?—”

He stopped suddenly and faced me. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he seethed.

I sank back into the bed, my pulse jumping at the anger on his face. The moment he saw my reaction, the anger subsided and his muscles loosened. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before walking over to me.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to flip out on you.”

“Why did you?”

This time, the anger in his eyes was directed at me. “Are you fucking kidding me? That asshole raped you for thirteen years. I knew that. I was well-fucking-aware of what he did to you. But to have you admit it—to fucking tell me that the last time you actually enjoyed a man touching you?—”

His voice rose and he quickly stopped himself, pulling away from me. He was angry on my behalf, not at me.

“I didn’t realize you were…” I trailed off, realizing how stupid it sounded. But I’d never had someone so upset for me before. Yes, everyone who had talked to me was upset that I had been taken and held by him. Knight let me be myself when I needed it. My mother wanted me to hate Zavala. Michael wanted me to see a shrink. But nobody had actually wanted me to talk to them and tell them what happened. Not once had someone asked me to unburden myself and open up to them.

Not until I came here.

Eva and Vira made it perfectly clear that I could tell them anything. But this…Jason was pissed. He was ready to burn the world down for me. I could see it in his eyes. If Zavala was standing here right now, he would slowly kill him, then hand me the knife and stand back as I took my turn.

Slipping from the bed, I stood on shaky legs, wondering if I should go to him. I didn’t want to be this scared, timid woman anymore. I felt like a teenager, barely able to look at a boy without crushing hard. But this was all new to me. Everything that a normal woman experienced had been ripped from me. I didn’t know how to behave or what was normal.

“I need you to talk to me,” I said, finally working up the courage to speak my mind. “I don’t have a lot of experience with men—other than them controlling me. And I don’t think that’s what you want.” His eyes slanted my way in fury, so I rushed on. “If this isn’t something you want, you’re going to have to tell me. I don’t know how to read signals or understand what you’re thinking.”

All I understood was fear. Torment. Hatred. Those were things that I could quickly catch onto and know how to deal with. But all the rest of it was something I just wasn’t capable of comprehending at the moment.

Sighing, he walked over to me, taking my hand. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I don’t know what you need, and I have a feeling I pushed too many boundaries this morning.”

I didn’t know how to answer that. I liked what he did, and yes, part of me wanted more. But was I really ready? Emotionally, I was still a mess. I didn’t know what it would take for me to accept his touch as anything other than what Zavala used me for.

“What do we do then?”

His dark eyes burned through me as he stared at me intently. My breath hitched in my chest as he slowly raised his hand to my face. He caught my reaction immediately, making sure I knew exactly what he was doing. I hated that I flinched at his touch. He was so kind to me, always looking out for me, but I couldn’t help my reaction. Years of abuse didn’t get erased overnight.

And trust wasn’t easily won.

My eyes fluttered shut as I allowed him to brush the back of his fingers against my cheek. The whole time, my heart pounded, waiting for the moment that gentle caress would turn into a punch to the face or his hand wrapped around my throat. When it didin’t come, I allowed myself to look him in the eyes again.

“You’re scared of me,” he whispered.

I blinked back tears that came unbidden. “I’m scared of everything,” I answered, wishing he could understand.

“I hate that you flinch, but I get it,” he sighed. “I know you’re fucking terrified, but I’ll do whatever I can to make you see me differently from him.”

“I already do,” I said, swallowing hard. “I just can’t get my brain to get on board with it.”

“You didn’t flinch when you were in my arms,” he noted.

---