Page 34 of War's Witch
“Let’s eat,” I say before walking into my living room.
I sit on the sofa, and War takes the seat next to me, setting our drinks on the coffee table.
Without waiting for him I dive into my patty melt, letting the mix of melted cheese, the burger patty, onions, and the magic sauce that Claude uses soothe my taste buds and hungry stomach.
I moan as the flavors hit me; my hunger had been forgotten until this second. Damn, this is some good food.
Opening my eyes, I see that War is watching me with a smoldering look that can only be described as him wanting to devour me.
“You need to stop moaning like that, baby, or we will be leaving the talking for later.” His voice is husky and deep.
I cannot stop from grinning, making him shake his head, growling at me before taking a bite of his food. He chews before looking at me again.
“Tell me who hurt you.”
Sighing, I know that I need to spill everything to him. He did to me about his dead wife. I do not know what has changed since earlier today, when he was a dick to me at Rugged Ink.
“I met him when I was training to be a tattoo artist. He came in for some ink and we just clicked. He was charming, wore nice clothes, flashed his money around, and I was a broke girl who was learning a new trade. He took an interest in me, something most men did not. For months it was great, and I was in deep in love.”
A deep throaty growl leaves him, and I snap my gaze to his. His eyes are dark and full of anger, as if he senses what is coming.
He blinks, shaking his head. “Sorry, carry on.” He tucks into his food as if he needs a distraction.
“It was verbal abuse at first: he would belittle mein private until he got bored of that. Then he would belittle me in front of everyone else so he would look like a big man. The cheating was constant. His men would take pride in sharing details about the women he was fucking, making sure to let me know that I was worthless, yet he would not let me go.”
“How did you get away from him?”
“My cousins and friends. The ones at the club at Halloween. He hit me, and I think that something snapped in me that day; so when he left, I knew that I had to run. It was the wake-up call I needed. I stole money from him and the girls helped me run.”
The room temperature drops when I say that Pato hit me. War stills in his seat, but I can see that his body is tight with anger. Placing my abandoned food on the table, I do the same to his, and touch my hand to his larger one.
“War, I got away. The last I heard, he was out of the country because he pissed off the wrong person.”
“Name?” His body vibrates with anger, and I hate seeing him like this because of me.
“I am not giving you his name because he is not worth the time or energy.”
“I will fucking kill him, Cleo. Give me his name.”
“No.” I am not sure what makes me do it but I straddle his lap. “I have moved on, made something of myself here. I am happy.”
“No, baby, you are not. You will not let yourself find love because this cunt hurt you.”
I look down to where my hands are on his abs. I can feel them through the material of his light grey tee. My heart is hammering in my chest, and my pussy throbs as it rests over the bulge in his pants.
“I am trying, War.”
“Mason,” he reminds me.
I smile. “Mason. I am trying.”
He grins and his hips flex.
“Damn, I like the way my name sounds on your lips, baby.” With that, he crashes his mouth to mine and I am lost in his touch.
Chapter
Sixteen
