My Favorite Mistake (My Favorite Mistake #1)(41)
Author: Chelsea M. Cameron

I took another deep breath. Hunter kept stroking my hair.

“As I was walking back to my bedroom, I saw something sparkly on the floor. It was one of my mother’s peacock earrings. Tawny had borrowed them without asking, and I knew she was wearing one. The other must have fallen out. I was jealous, because I’d never been allowed to wear them, so I went to my room and put it on. I stayed up reading for a while, but then I heard a noise. I got up, and I heard it again. Then there was a scream.”

Hunter’s arms tightened around me, and I gripped onto his shirt.

“I went back to Tawny’s bedroom, and she was screaming while I heard a slapping noise and Travis telling her to shut up. She screamed some more and then I heard him punch her. She was pleading with him. I didn’t know what to do. The door was cracked just a little, and I looked in. He was on top of her and her shirt was torn. He was unzipping his pants and telling her that he’d waited long enough. She was crying and struggling to get out from under him. He slapped her again, and her head flew to the side. We locked eyes and she whispered something. Travis saw her looking, and I couldn’t close the door fast enough.”

I started shaking again, but Hunter wasn’t going to let me go.

“He chased me down the hall and grabbed me. He screamed at me for interrupting them and then said that maybe I wanted some, too. He started ripping at my pants, and I couldn’t breathe because he was so heavy and he was on top of me, and I thought I was going to die. He ripped at my shirt and scratched my chest. I was only wearing leggings, so he tore those and my underwear and went for his pants again, telling me if I ever told anyone about any of it, he’d come and find me and kill me. I prayed for someone to save me and that was when Tawny hit him as hard as she could with her softball bat that she kept under her bed. He collapsed on me, and Tawny had to roll him off. We tied him up with a couple of my jump ropes and some tape and called the police.

There was a trial. He was convicted and got ten years. He’s supposed to be in for two more, but Tawny called and said he’s up for parole.”

I sniffed again, and he handed me the napkin.

“So there. Now you know. The only other person I’ve ever told was Megan. Everyone in my town knew about it. I got labeled a whore in school, and when I started getting angry and fighting, no one wanted anything to do with me. I made a pact with myself that I would never date, never have a boyfriend. I’d be alone, because the only person I can trust is me. Everyone will let you down. I’d never told Tawny that, but she apologized for years. I think she’s still apologizing, even though she was a victim, too. My parents felt so guilty about leaving that they broke up. I mean, that wasn’t the entire reason, but it had a lot to do with it. Everything just kind of fell apart after that one night. And now you know why I have the peacock obsession. Tawny was wearing one earring and I was wearing the other. Those earrings saved our lives.”

Hunter thought for a moment, and I could almost hear him trying to pick the right words.

“I wish I could kill him in the most slow, painful way possible,” he said.

“Me too.” I’d imagined it more times than I would ever admit.

“Thank you for telling me.”

“Now you know why I’m so f**ked up.”

“You’re not, that’s the thing. You’ve been through something most people can’t imagine. Don’t be ashamed of the way that you cope with it.”

“I’m not coping with it, according to my therapists. There have been many.”

“Fuck them. If breaking things and punching people every now and then helps you, I’ll be your punching bag and we can get you some stuff to throw off the roof. Deal?”

“Okay.”

“So he’s up for parole?”

“Yeah, there’s a hearing. My lawyer called.”

“But you get to go to it, right? Make a statement?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay then. We’ll just have to get you ready to make a really good statement.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I can’t face him again.” Harder even than telling him the story was telling him that. That I was a coward.

“Yes, you can. You just don’t think you can. There’s a difference.”

“But I couldn’t face him then. He was raping my sister, and I did nothing. I could have gotten the phone; I could have run in and hit him with something. I could have done something,” I said.

“You were a child.”

I tried to shake my head, but he wouldn’t let me.

“I should have done something.”

“I let my father shoot my mother and then himself. If anyone should have done something, it’s me.”

“He had a gun.”

“He had your sister.”

“It’s not the same.”

He sighed. “Taylor, we can what if ourselves to death, but it won’t do anything. The only thing we can do is keep moving, even when it feels like you’re walking through a pit of cement.”

“With cinderblocks on your shoulders.”

“Exactly.”

“The only difference is that your demon has a human form.” His hand traveled up and down my arm in a soothing motion.

“I’m still sorry I beat you,” I said, touching his perfect face.

“How’s my face looking?”

I glanced up. He was going to look quite pretty tomorrow.

“A little battered.”

“That’s okay. I’ll just tell everyone I was in a bar fight.”

“What, you’re ashamed to say you were hit by a girl?”

“No, but I’m worried you’ll get hauled in for domestic violence,” he said with a smile.

“Okay, fine.”

“Feel better?”

“I guess. I’ll let you know.”

“It’s okay to be scared.”

“I hate being scared.”

“I know. But you don’t have to be scared of him. He’s locked up right now, and you’re not alone. I want you to remember that. You. Are. Not. Alone.”

“I’ve always been alone. Old habits die hard.”

“Yes, they do.” He laughed a little. “Are you tired?”

“Not really.”

“Then do you mind if I just hold you like this? It’s very nice.”

“Yes, it is.” I shifted so I could wrap my legs with his, like we had that night we’d spent together.

“Well, that’s even nicer.”

“Hunter.”

“Sorry, Miss.”

“Every time I think about being physical with someone, all I can remember are his hands and his face above mine, and not being able to breathe. I know I shouldn’t associate those things, but I do and I can’t seem to change it. Every time I think about sex, that’s what I think about. That’s why I’ve never been with anyone. Well, part of the reason. I just never met anyone who I’d wanted to even attempt it with.”

“Until me? Please say until me.”

“Until you.” I reached up and touched a spot that was starting to turn purple on his cheek. “But I’m a freak. You wouldn’t want me.”

“I don’t want anyone but you.”

“You’re just going to have to be patient with me,” I said, tracing his face with one finger. He grabbed my hand and kissed it.

“I’ll do my best. Not making any promises.”

“How about this?” I said, having an idea. “We have a word that I can say if I start freaking out.”

“Like a safe word? Baby, you’ve been reading too many sketchy romance novels, haven’t you? I saw them on your e-reader.”

“Whatever. Okay, so what should my safe word be?”

“How about stop?”

“Boring.” I went through a bunch of words.

“Mistake,” Hunter said, smiling.

“Perfect.” He held my hand in front of his face, turning it back and forth, as if he was fascinated.

“You have such tiny hands,” he said.

“Uh, thank you?”

“They’re cute and feminine. I like them.”

“I think I’ll keep them. I don’t have my receipt for the hand store so I can’t trade them in.”

He laughed, his chest moving under me in a wonderful way. He stared down at me and smiled, bringing my hand to his lips. He kissed each of my fingers and then the back of my hand. He turned my palm over and kissed that. He took his time, as if waiting for me to say the safe word. I didn’t.

Hunter kissed down my arm, all the way into the inside of my elbow, which was surprisingly sensitive. He waited before putting one hand under my chin and tipping my face up. He moved so close our noses touched before he tentatively kissed my lips. Pulling back, he waited for me to tell him to stop. I didn’t.

He reached for my lips again, this time lingering. I kissed him back, moving my mouth so it fit against his. How was it we fit so well together? Hunter pulled back again, and I opened my eyes.

“I’m going to kiss you now, and I’m not going to stop.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Okay, then.” He brought my face toward his again and opened his mouth as I opened mine to deepen the kiss. At that moment, I wanted to crawl inside him and hide. His tongue entered my mouth, and I let him. I couldn’t really use the safe word because my mouth was occupied. I didn’t want to use it anyway.

Hunter pulled me closer, twisting our fingers together as he nipped at my bottom lip.

For a moment, he pulled away so we could both breathe.

“Want me to stop?” he said.

“Nope.”

“Then I suggest we move this to our bedroom. Your bed or mine?”

“Mine,” I said.

He wiggled out from under me and picked me up, kissing my lips as he did so.

“No kissing and walking. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said while he carried me back to our room. He nearly tripped on a few t-shirts, but he got me on the bed and then his lips were back on mine. I moved over so he could climb on. Damn those tiny beds.

Before he continued, he held my face in his hands.

“Are you sure?”

“Right now, yes.” I didn’t know if I’d change my mind. Kissing was nice and well and good, but once clothes started coming off, and other areas started getting explored, I wasn’t sure if the ugly shadow of that horrible night would swallow me up again.

In response, he kissed me again, and then sat up, pulling at the hem of his shirt.

“I want to do it,” I said, propping myself on my elbows.

“Your wish is my command, princess.”

I’d never taken a shirt off a guy before, but guy’s shirts weren’t that different from girl’s shirts, right? They had armholes and were made of cotton and all that. How hard could it be? I started pulling up, and he put his arms up. I got it kind of stuck on his nose, but he moved it so he could get his head through before he chucked it on the floor.

“We’ll have to practice that one,” he said, coming back for another kiss. He moved down to my ear, which made me giggle, and then down to my neck, which made me sigh. I ran my hands up and down his chest, tracing his tattoos. I wondered what they tasted like.