Page 17 of Coach's Pet

His thoughtfulness is touching, but I know better than to let that fool me. “I’ll sit down when you do. You make me nervous.”

Jason laughs and nods. “Fair enough, pebble. I’ll tell you what. You tell me the rest of the story and let me decide on whether you’re going to get a punishment. Or if I truly believe you.”

We both sit back down, and I think that he’s being fair. For fuck’s sake, I’m acting like this is a fair deal. If he doesn’t believe me, there’s no telling what he’s going to do to me. Yet, he’s sitting here, his hand on my knee.

At first, I thought he was going to squeeze it, forcing my legs wide apart.

He doesn’t.

It’s become soothing to have him touch me in a non-threatening way. I expected him to stand tall above me. Maybe even intimidate me for answers.

As his hand runs up and down my thigh, an odd feeling comes over me. Am I truly incapable of believing people can be nice to me?

“Tell me the rest of your story.” His thumb sweeps along the inside of my thigh, and I close my eyes as tingling sensations run through me.

“Your mother and I had a turbulent relationship. We both did things we weren’t proud of. Things no one should have done. But we were making amends. Your father hated that.”

The memory assaults me. Heaviness in my chest makes it unbearable to breathe. “Lucinda asked me to help her get back to her home in Spain. Back to her father’s side, the Pongonado’s. I told her I would help in any way I could.”

Jason moves his other arm, and I flinch, thinking he’s going to hit me. “Go on, pebble.” His hand pushes a piece of hair out of my face, and I relax a little.

“Your father caught us at my lawyer’s. His guards brought us to his house. You boys were away at school. I’m grateful you weren’t there to witness what happened next.”

His hand on my thigh tightens, and I close my eyes for a moment. It takes a moment to gather the courage needed to divulge what went down.

“Ricardo tied your mother up and had his guards hold me down as he forced a mushroom and drug-induced tea down my throat.”

Gulping, I look at him. My lower lip trembles as I recount that horrible day. “He forced himself on me in front of her and made me…”

Dammit. I’m stronger than this. Telling myself to pull it together, I hold my head up high and sigh. “He made his men take turns with me.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

My mouth pops open. “I was high out of my mind.” Anger runs through me. “How could you ask me that?”

His lips meet mine, and his hands run through my hair. As his tongue sweeps along the top of my mouth, I forget to be mad. At least for the moment. Jason pulls back and he smiles at me.

“There now. No need to get upset, pebble. I needed to see your reaction.”

“Oh. Still, it’s unfortunate that you can’t trust me.”

Why do I even care if he does?

Right, because if he doesn’t, he’s going to punish me, and I don’t want that. Maybe we are going in the right direction now.

“No, I didn’t like it. But, then again, I barely remember most of the night. Except…” I stop talking and look at him. “Your mother. I remember her screams like it was yesterday.”

His hands are still holding me, making me keep eye contact with him. Any time I think of the past, I pace. The urge to get up is strong, but he’s not letting me.

“Crucinda, are you saying my father killed my mother?”

“It crossed my mind, but I don’t know if he did. When I was dumped out at my house, the police were called, and a full investigation was carried out. Your father never saw any charges because your mother supposedly committed suicide. I do know your father beat her, but I truly don’t know about her death.”

Jason nods and looks relieved. Silence surrounds us for the longest time, and when Jason doesn’t say anything, I peek at him.

“You aren’t done,” he says and runs a hand roughly through my hair. “What aren’t you telling me?”

How does he know?

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