Page 21 of Slash
Then yesterday, he’d bailed out of jail. They didn’t know how he’d found out where they were, and it didn’t matter. They’d linked him to The Rejects. His brother in law was a member. In fact, it was Brock’s brother-in-law who had put Savannah in their crosshairs. They’d taken care of The Rejects already, but if Brock ran in that circle, it meant he was more dangerous than they knew.
Nicole was curled up on the couch like she was trying to disappear into the cushions, knees drawn to her chest, making herself as small as possible. Still wearing his t-shirt from this morning, the one she'd stolen from his drawer, looking lost inside it. The fabric swallowed her, made her look even morefragile than usual, and something primitive in him both loved and hated it. Loved that she was wrapped in his scent, marked as his even in this small way. Hated that she needed the armor of his clothes to feel protected.
He'd seen her scared the night he’d pick her up, but this was different. This was bone-deep terror mixed with exhaustion and the kind of vulnerability that came from being pushed past your breaking point. This was a woman who'd been strong for too long finally cracking under the weight.
"Talk to me," he said, settling beside her carefully, not touching yet. He'd learned to read her tells—when she needed space and when she needed contact. Right now she was balanced on a knife's edge between both. "What's going through your head?"
"Everything," Nicole said with a laugh that sounded like breaking glass. "I keep thinking about all the ways this could go wrong. All the ways he could hurt her. All the ways I've failed to protect her. All the times I went back to him, believing it would be different."
"You haven't failed," Slash said firmly, fighting the urge to hunt Brock down right now and end this permanently. "You got her away from him. You kept her safe for over a year. That's not failure, little girl. That's survival."
"But what if it's not enough? What if he finds a way? What if?—"
"Hey." Slash reached out slowly, telegraphing his movement, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered, feeling her pulse race beneath thin skin. "Look at me."
Nicole raised her eyes to his, and he could see the storm of fear and self-doubt raging inside her. But underneath that, he saw something else, a desperate need to believe him, to trust that someone else could handle this burden she'd been carrying alone.
"I need you to listen to me very carefully," he said, letting authority creep into his voice, the tone that had once commanded soldiers in combat. "Brock Holt is not getting near you or Kayleigh. Not while I'm breathing. Not while there's still fight in my body. Do you understand me?"
"But—"
"No buts. This isn't a negotiation or a discussion. This is me telling you how it's going to be." His voice softened slightly, but the steel remained. "Sometimes you have to trust that the people who care about you know how to keep you safe. You have to let me be in control."
Nicole bit her lip hard enough to leave marks, clearly warring with herself. "I just... I've been making all the decisions for so long. Running when I thought we should run, hiding when it felt right, lying to everyone about where the bruises came from. It's hard to let someone else?—"
"Control things?" Slash finished. "I know. But that's exactly what you need to do right now. Let me be in control. Let me handle the scary stuff while you focus on taking care of yourself and Kayleigh."
"And if you make decisions I don't like?" It wasn’t the first time she’d asked him that. He would reassure her as many times as it took.
"Then we talk about it. But in the end, when it comes to your safety, my word is final." He paused, studying her face, seeing the war between independence and exhaustion playing out in her expression. "Can you handle that? Can you trust me that much?"
Nicole was quiet for a long moment, and Slash could practically see the internal battle playing out in her expression. The independent woman who'd survived on her own wits and determination warring with the part of her that craved exactlywhat he was offering, someone else to make the hard choices, to stand guard while she rested.
"What if I can’t be who you need me to be?" she asked finally, her voice small and uncertain.
"What do you think I need you to be?"
"Obedient," she said, her cheeks flushing pink. "Submissive. A good little girl who doesn't question your authority. Someone who's grateful and easy and doesn't wake up screaming from nightmares or have panic attacks in grocery stores or?—"
"Nicole," Slash interrupted gently. "You argued with me yesterday. You told me my coffee was shit this morning, when I got up before Tater and tried to make it. You literally threw a pillow at my head when I suggested you needed a nap. Which I should have spanked your butt for. You think I expect blind obedience?"
"Don't you?"
"I expect trust," he corrected, catching her hand and linking their fingers. Her hand was so small in his delicate bones and soft skin against his scarred knuckles. "I expect you to believe that when I make a decision about your safety, it's because I know what I'm doing. But I also expect you to be yourself. I need you to be my stubborn, opinionated, fierce as hell when something matters to you, little girl. That fire in you? That's not something I want to put out. It's something I want to protect."
Nicole blinked at him. "Really?"
"Really. A man who wants a doormat gets a pet, not a partner. And make no mistake, little girl, you're my partner in this. We're building something together."
Something in her expression shifted, surprise giving way to something warmer, hungrier. "Is that what we are? Partners?"
"Yes, we are," Slash said carefully, though his heart was hammering with the need to claim her completely. "I will alwaystake your opinion into consideration, little girl. We are partners in every way that matters and I’m your boss, too."
Nicole was quiet again, but this time he could see the fear beginning to fade. Her thumb traced over his knuckles absently.
"I've never done this before," she admitted. "The whole... dynamic thing. I mean, I've read about it, fantasized about it late at night when I couldn't sleep, but actually living it..."
"Scares the hell out of you," Slash guessed.
