Page 22 of Bring Me Back
“Jax, what’s wrong?” I ask, stepping closer to him. He backs away almost instinctively. As if he’s not really present in this room. His mind seems far away.
“I went home. I needed to grab some things for school. The front door was open. Not unlocked, but wide open. I know I probably shouldn’t have gone in…but I did. The living room was trashed. Not just messy, Mom. It was torn apart. Couch cushions gutted, drawers flung across the floor in our rooms. This wasn’t a break-in. I don’t think I saw anything missing at all. This was someonerippingour lives apart, this was…rage.” He says, his eyes pleading with me to understand the meaning hidden there.
“Let’s just stay calm. We don’t know anything forsure, and it’s no use jumping to conclusions.” Beckett says, but I can’t tear my eyes away from my boy. Our glassy eyes are locked on one another, both of us knowing what neither of us wants to admit. There is only one person in the world who feels rage like that towards me.
Cooper
Even just the thought that he could’ve finally found us is enough to turn my stomach. The noise surrounding me muffles, my heart pounding in my ribcage. Bile rises in my throat as I rush for the sink, emptying the contents of my gut. Beckett is by my side instantly, pulling my hair back. I wretch for what feels like forever before the world around me finally comes back into focus. Beck’s strong hands rub a soothing path up and down my back, but it’s barely enough to keep me upright. My legs feel like jelly, my knees barely capable of holding me up. Beckett’s strong arms circle me from behind, and I lean into him. He kisses my head softly, so soft I barely notice.
“I will never let anyone hurt you again, Willow. Neither of you. You are completely safe here.” He says, maybe to me or maybe to himself. Either way, I feel slightly better just hearing the words.
“You don’t know him, Beck. You do not understand what he’s capable of,” Jaxon says, his voice low and thin.
“You’re right, Jaxon. I don’t. But I do know myself. And so do you. I will never let another person hurt eitherof you ever again. I know I don’t talk about my past or my work now very much, but there are those who would say I am not a good man. There is blood on my hands I will never be able to wash away. But I would take a hundred more lives to save either of you.” Beckett’s words are harsh and dark. They should make me reconsider all the feelings I’ve buried deep inside for him. But if I’m honest, they have the opposite effect. They make my body burn for him even hotter. The kind of devotion he’s describing only exists in books for me, yet here it is right in front of my eyes. His darkness is something I shouldn’t crave, but if I’m honest, I wanna dive into it headfirst and never come up for air.
He’s the kind of man people don’t look at twice until it’s too late. Beckett is not loud. Not flashy. Just still. He’s dangerous in a quiet way, like most predators are. Patient, vigilant, coiled beneath a calm exterior, just waiting for the need to strike. There's a wild storm in him, but it’s buried so deep. It’s controlled like a secret he chooses to keep to himself.
Most people see his silence and mistake it for peace.
But I know better.
He is a violent force concealed in a dignified package. He’s polite and patient, but behind his eyes, there is a storm waiting for a reason to break free.
fourteen
Jaxon questionedme for hours about what we should do. I wish I had the answers he’s looking for. If only I could tell him this is all just a bad dream and Cooper doesn’t really exist, but I can’t. I was grateful Beck left us alone for a few hours so Jax could get things off his chest. He loves Beckett, I have no doubt about that. But it’s different to see someone as a friend and a protector, and then to see that person making out with your mom. There’s no way I could move forward with Beck if Jaxon wasn’t accepting of it. My son is nearly an adult, but I’ll always be his mama. I always want him to feel safe speaking his mind to me. He seemed nervous, but ultimately happy about Beck and I becoming…whatever the hell Beck and I are becoming. I don’t blame him, I feel pretty much the same way.
But now I’m alone in the library, snuggled corner ofthe couch, wrapped in the softest blanket I’ve ever felt, just staring out the windows into the darkness. I’ve told myself a dozen times I’m not waiting up for Beck, but that’s a lie. I want to know where his head’s at after earlier. I want to be direct and ask him exactly what this is that’s going on between us. I want to feel his hand on me again. I’m dying to feel the fire in his touch again. But is it just fun? Temporary? I’m not sure how much more temporary I can stomach in my life. Something deep in my bones tells me nothing Beck does is ever temporary. If I let him, his love would be the kind I can bet my life on.
Candles flicker on the fireplace mantel across the room, and I’m lost in the romantic feeling of this place. This house is like a gothic Beauty and the Beast castle come to life, and I’m so in love with it. I rest my head against the back of the couch and close my eyes, just praying for sleep to find me before Beckett does. There’s no telling what will happen if he finds me first.
“Knock, knock, pretty girl.” His voice is soft. I don’t have to open my eyes to know how incredibly sexy he is right now. I can smell the masculine scent of his cologne mixing with the smell of books and leather already surrounding me.
“You don’t have to knock, ya know. This is your house.” I smirk, finally meeting his dark eyes. The fire there is barely controlled.
“For now,” he says, and I wonder what he means bythat. Before I can think too long on it, he’s crossing the room, invading my space and stealing the breath from my lungs. This man is so fucking dangerous, but only in the very best ways.
He towers over me, his legs brushing against the blanket wrapped around my body. The heat radiating off of him could burn me to cinders, it could completely decimate me with just a single touch. But I think I’m past the point of caring. I’m so tired of living half a life, just waiting for my nightmares to catch up to me and ruin every good thing I’ve built all over again. I won’t give up this life.
I refuse to give up this man.
I don’t know what I look like to him from this angle, but with the way he’s looking down at me, it must be good. He wants me. I think I’ve known from the first time we ever locked eyes that he would consume me, body and soul. I’m so tired of pretending I don’t want him just as badly.
I let the blanket fall off my shoulders, my fingers running up the sides of his thighs. His muscles tense, and I feel a sense of victory. I like knowing I affect him this way, as if I had any doubt. A nagging voice in my mind says I shouldn’t be taking so many liberties with him. I want to believe that it’s my place. That, for once in my life, I finally fit somewhere. But I’m not sure I would believe him even if he said the exact words rolling around in my mind.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” I ask, looking up at him. With any other man, this position might feel vulnerable. But with Beck vulnerable somehow feels safe.
“I’m not sure you’re quite ready to hear everything I’m thinking, pretty girl. It gets a little dark and devious up here sometimes,” he smirks down at me. If the devil smiled, I imagine it would look a lot like the smirk painted on this man’s face right now. Every word that comes out of his mouth feels suggestive. Every time he looks my way, I can feel his eyes tracing a path across my skin.
“Tell me. I want to know,” I say, but it comes out unsure, more of a question than a statement.
“Something you’ll learn about me. I want your confidence, Willow. I don’t want you ashamed of the flaws you perceive in your body or in your life. Your body is fucking perfect. I don’t want you weak and afraid. I never want to see you that way again. I want to hear you speak with strength in your voice, sure of yourself and your wants. Completely unafraid to ask for the things you need. Anything on this earth you can imagine, I will give it to you. All you have to do is ask.” His fingertips trace the edge of my jaw, and I feel the sensation throughout my entire body.
“I want…you. All I want is you, Beckett.” I say, the words tasting sweet on my tongue. The tightness in my chest unfurls slowly, a sigh of relief escaping my lips before in can hold it back. I’m not sure what having him completely means yet, but I know I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I want to be exactly who I am. No more hiding, no more lying. And I know a part of who I am is his.
“Stand up,” he says, my body obeying before my mind even catches up.
He commands, I obey. And for once in my life, I love how it feels. It doesn’t feel like a prison, like chains dragging me down the way Cooper’s orders always did. No, it feels like something else entirely. Like the utter desire to please him with every fiber of my being because it’s truly what I want, not what’s demanded of me.
