Page 39 of Beyond Rosy Irish Twilight

I smirked at her. “While you were passed out? No, that’s not my thing.”

She nodded, but I could feel her unease growing by the second. She wanted me gone so she could come to grips with what happened in peace. I tossed back the covers and stood in all my naked glory.

“I should get dressed and find out what’s going on. Stay in bed,” I ordered. “You need your rest.”

She nodded, trying to avert her eyes, but they kept drifting back to my hard cock. I was going to have to take care of that before the day began. There was no way I could talk to Chase and Patrick with a woody that hard. I grabbed some clothes and stepped into the shower, turning it on cold. But no matter how long I stood there, it did nothing to lessen my need. I wrapped my hand around my thick length and gave a firm tug.

I groaned as I thought of her ass pressed against me. God, I fucking wanted her. But then I remembered the scars and instantly deflated. There would be no fucking her until she told me the truth of what happened. I couldn’t risk hurting her more than she already was. It didn’t matter if she made me harder than I ever had been in my life, or if her smile made me want things I shouldn’t want. We had shit to work out before I even thought of going down that road.

I quickly washed and shut off the water. After drying off, I got dressed and opened the door. She was still lying in bed with the sheets pulled up to her chin. She was fucking terrified. Everything in me told me not to go near her, but she would never trust me if I didn’t show her the smallest bit of kindness. I walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, yanking the sheet down just enough that I could see her perfect lips.

“Do you need anything?”

She shook her head rapidly.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “You didn’t eat yesterday and then threw up. I’ll get you something you can stomach.”

“Okay,” she squeaked.

I slowly bent over and pressed a kiss to her lips. God, they were like silk, and after a moment, she kissed me back, reminding me of our kiss just before she passed out. It wouldn’t be easy to break down those barriers, but I’d slowly chip away until she trusted me completely.

“Stay in bed,” I grumbled. “I’ll check on you later.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything else. Despite not wanting to leave her, I could feel the anger coming back. I needed to talk to Chase and get a plan in motion.

I turned and practically stormed out of the bungalow. Patrick immediately noticed my growing anger and followed. Chase was just up the path and also recognized the murder written on my face.

“What happened?” he asked.

I closed my eyes, squeezing my fists as tight as I could. Without thinking, I spun and slammed my fist into a tree. I heard something crack, but didn’t stop. Or, I wouldn’t have, but Chase grabbed me and held me back. My whole body was shaking with fury as I recalled tracing each scar with my fingers. The sight of the raised scars flashed in my mind, and before I knew it, I was on the ground, being held down by both Chase and Patrick as I fought them with everything I had.

“Calm the fuck down!” Chase shouted. “Tell us what happened!”

I struggled harder, seeing Ambrose in my vision. That fucker was going to die, and then I would tear him apart limb by limb until there was nothing left for anyone to find.

“You have to calm the fuck down. Jade is going to hear you,” Patrick whispered.

That had me instantly stilling and taking deep breaths to calm my shit. The last thing I needed was Jade knowing I’d seen her back yesterday. My muscles relaxed as much as they were going to, and the guys finally released me. I rolled over and sat up, resting my arm across my raised knee.

“What the fuck happened?” Chase asked.

I didn’t even know how to say it. It felt like a betrayal to tell them when she didn’t even want me to know. But I had to find out if Ambrose hurt her or someone else. I had to know every last detail if I had any hope of controlling my anger.

I blew out a breath and felt tears prick my eyes. God, this was fucking hard to talk about. “She’s got scars. Hundreds of them.”

Patrick sat down beside me and stared at me. “What do you mean?”

I swallowed the knot in my throat and struggled to tell them what I’d witnessed. “Her back…she has too many scars to count. Someone whipped her, but others are deeper. I think…” I shook my head. “I don’t know what they used, but the scars are bad.”

“Fucking hell,” Patrick murmured.

“She doesn’t know I know. I saw them when I was trying to get her cleaned up. She doesn’t remember anything, and I don’t want her to.”

“Why not?” Chase asked.

“She needs to tell me when she’s ready,” I said, my voice catching. I sliced my fingers through my hair, frustrated that I was at a loss for what to do or how to handle this. She was my wife in name, but was fast becoming so much more.

I heard Chase sigh heavily. I knew what was coming. I had already considered it myself, but to have him point it out was fucking hard. “She’s not the endgame.”

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