Page 73 of Dark OZ

“When we left the diner, you were screaming in the back of the car. What did you see?” Of all the screaming she’d done, none of them had unsettled me as much as when I was still holding her. Thea had looked at me with complete and unyielding fear. It was an image I couldn’t shake, and I wanted to know what she was seeing.

My beautiful vixen shuddered. Not from cold, or stimulation, but with the memory.

I stilled, her visible distress making my stomach flip. This was wrong. I was a selfish bastard, and what’s worse, I fucking knew better. It was her game, but she’d been through a hell of a lot. Offering a token of comfort, I kissed the base of her neck, ready to end this and be content with holding her until morning.

“I was falling and sinking into the ground. You threw me in, and I disappeared beneath the surface.”

That wasn’t what I was expecting. There was no villain for me to banish, no foe that I could slit the throat of. I lowered beside her, the mattress dipping with my weight. I ran my palm down her arm. “Thea, you don—”

Her face turned against the pillow so that we were looking at each other. “It’s okay. I don’t want these nightmares anymore than you wanted yours.”

My lips barely brushed hers before she drew back, sending a raw ache straight to the center of my chest. I hated how powerless her pain made me feel.

“There was a compartment built into the floorboards for pipe access. The ground had several feet of insulation in it, the kind that always reminded me of pink cotton candy.” Her fingers idly twisted into the pillowcase, her eyes growing distant and unfocused. “You instantly sank when you landed on it. You had to find something to hold onto, or the itchy substance swallowed you up. Whenever I misbehaved, Em threw me in the dark and let me fight against gravity—for hours. When I was lucky, I managed to get a grip on a pipe. I could hang so long as my muscles held out, and no one was running the hot water. When I wasn’t lucky, I choked on fiberglass.“

“Thea…”

She blinked, her vision snapping back to mine. “I don’t like the dark or small spaces.”

I thought back to her first morning at our compound, to her panic when she woke up in the black of my apartment. I loved sleeping in the dark. Darkness soothed me. Sometimes, it was the only way I could sleep. It hadn’t even occurred to me that she might have an issue with it. Fuck me, I was an asshole. I vowed to keep her safe, and instead, I’d immediately thrust her into her worst nightmare.

“Now erase it, Crowe.”

I kissed her shoulder. Could I really do this to her? I’d done some fucked up shit to a lot of people, but they’d all deserved it. My sweet girl didn’t deserve an ounce of what she’d been given. Thea had that look of grim determination again, the steel in her eyes reminding me that she wasn’t made of glass. She’d made up her mind and wouldn’t be denied. Tonight, she would destroy her fears, and she’d chosen me as the weapon. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Climbing from the bed, my mind scrambled to form a plan. The walk-in closet was lined with different styles and types of clothing in all of our sizes. Everything from designer suits to workman jumpsuits, contingencies for whatever type of job we might be doing. I pulled out one of Nick’s black button-downs. It was soft and would dwarf her tiny frame.

At the back was a short armoire filled with accessories. I pulled open the top drawer, rifling through the contents until I found what I was looking for.

When I returned to the room, Thea had sat up, hugging her knees. She eyed me with curiosity.

“Come here.”

Her eyes locked in on the black silk tie running through my fingers. Thea licked her lips, doing as instructed. She crawled to the end of the bed, her hips swaying with each movement. I let my eyes drop when she stood, taking a moment to commit every curve of her body to memory. “You’re so beautiful.”

Her cheeks flushed, making the small spattering of freckles more pronounced. I laced my fingers through hers and slowly walked us back to the walk-in closet. Her head swiveled taking in the room and noting its compact size. Her heart rate instantly sped up, making her breathing quicker, and the pulse point on her neck fluttered. I don’t know how I’d missed it before. She had a solid handle on her fear, probably from years of pretending she had none. Ozma only knew what Emily Rosen did when she discovered weaknesses.

I rotated her so that her back was facing the rack of shirts. Looping the tie around my neck, I held the shirt open for her. Thea’s head tilted like she was trying to understand my plan. Somehow, dressing her in a mammoth size clothing wasn’t computing for her.

I gave the shirt a shake and smirked. “I’ve never seen you be shy before.”

Thea scowled and thrust her hand into the arm hole.

“Ah…not that one,” I said, gesturing that she should put the shirt on backwards.

“What are you up to, Vincent Crowe?”

“You don’t like to be called Dorothy. I don’t like to be called Vincent. Or worse, Vinny.” I made an overly dramatic shiver, getting a chuckle to rise from her. “Now, Darling Thea, put the shirt on.”

The arms of the shirt hung several inches past her fingertips, exactly as I’d hoped.

“This is absurd.” She gave a little flap of her arms.

I fastened the shirt down to the small of her back, all the while stealing the small tastes of her neck that our position offered up. The loose shirt hung partially open, giving me perfect view of her peachy ass beneath the dark fabric. I smoothed my hand over it and leaned in to speak against her ear. “If you want me to stop, just say so. I’m not here to terrorize you.”

Thea nodded. “I know. I can handle it.”

“Okay, then…” My voice trailed off, and I ran my hands down her arms, gripping her wrists and gently easing them behind her. “Still okay?”

---