Bind Me Before You Go (Entangled Brazen) (Serve) (11 page)

Chapter Ten

“So did your Hunk-on-a-Rope decide to finally stop abusing your body and give it a rest for the night?”

“Very funny, Allie.”

She had stayed over at David’s the other night, but since she had shifts over the next several days, he was now staying at her apartment. It felt good having him on her turf, even if she hated waking up and counting off one more of their few remaining days together.

Now, Cassidy was hanging out with Allison in her kitchen. Baking. This surprised her, because her roommate seemed like the type who never even
glanced
at a cookie, let alone baked a bunch for herself and others. But here she was, helping Allie bake on a Sunday.

She took a quick glance over at how Cassidy was rolling the dough. “You need more flour, Cass, or it’ll stick.”

“Oh,” She scooped some in her hand and dusted it across the pin and the marble counter top.

“Good,” she praised while getting back to her own batch. “Now, spill and tell me
everything
.”

Cassidy playfully narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “You going to share about you and Monsieur Delacroix, Mademoiselle Sinclair? Because I know something’s up when you start baking.”

She shrugged her shoulders and sorted through an array of cookie cutters. “I don’t know. He asked me to come back for another scene. But I’m not sure if I want to.” She found the cutter she was looking for, gave it a quick spray, and started pressing it into the dough. “I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy that night at the club…”

“You
enjoyed
that night?” Cass mimicked. “What does that mean exactly?”

Allie started placing the cutouts onto the greased cookie sheet. “It means I like him, but I’m not about to get all wrapped up in his gorgeous, whiskey-eyed, seductive voodoo anytime soon. I swear that man is trying to put some kind of BDSM mind game spell on me, and I’m not falling for it. No way.”

Cassidy blinked once. Then again. “Seductive voodoo? BDSM mind game spell? Really Alls?” That did it. She started cracking up, holding onto the edge of the fridge.

Allison grabbed a dishtowel and swatted Cass with it. “Never mind! I thought we were talking about you, anyways.”

“Shh!” she said, touching her arm. “David’s still sleeping, and I don’t want to wake him.”

Allie smirked and shoved the cookie tray in the oven. After shutting the door she set the timer. “Wake up? You mean
revive
him? You two haven’t been out of your room except to go to work. And if I’m not mistaken, I think you called in sick yesterday, because I don’t recall even seeing you at all. Although I sure could
hear
you.”

Cassidy blushed, then felt a warm, strong hand curl around the nape of her neck. Damn, David was one stealth-moving, hot piece of ass. She hadn’t even heard him come across the apartment.

“Now, don’t tease her, Allison,” he chided her friend. “Cassidy gets embarrassed over the idea of you hearing us. It’s gotten to be so bad I’m going to bring her back to my place for a while. I’m tired of not hearing her let it all out.”

“We’re going back to your place?” Cassidy asked, turning into his awaiting embrace. He was wearing jeans and one of his favorite faded T-shirts. Frankly, she couldn’t care less if he stayed with her or she camped out at his apartment, but she couldn’t deny she felt a thrill at the invitation.

All she wanted was to wake up and go to sleep with him every day they had left, for as long as he wanted to be with her. He was leaving on assignment at the end of the week, only a few days from now. She’d tried to talk to him about it last night, but instead of answering her with words, he’d buried his face between her legs.

She came within a few minutes, and though the pleasure had been as strong as ever, that orgasm was like a check mark on the calendar. One more down. One less left.

“Yeah, but not until I get you in the shower here one last time.”

“You sure are bossy, Mr. Cavill,” she teased. “What ever happened to the Shibari-loving guy who’s all about fair play?”

He gave her a wide grin. “Good point, Ms. Peyton. So let me rephrase: may I have the honor of showering with you?”

She tilted her head, batted her eyelashes, and then curtsied for him. “I am flattered by your invitation, and I accept your generous offer.”

He gave her a swat on her curvy behind. “C’mon, smart-ass.”

They got into her shower together and washed each other thoroughly. He took his time washing her hair and said it was “one of his favorite things to do to a woman.”

She leaned back into his touch and sighed.

“What are you thinking?” he asked while working his fingers deep into her hair, massaging her scalp.

She let out a laugh. “I thought guys hated that question.”

He smiled against the skin of her neck as he spoke close to her ear. “I’m not most guys. And you’re evading my question.”

He rinsed out the shampoo and then started working in the conditioner.

“I’m just happy,” she finally admitted. “Really happy.”

“Me, too, you know,” he told her while smiling down at her, a sexy and mischievous gleam to his eye. “I can’t fucking wait until I can get you to—”

His cell phone rang from the bedroom—the sound of an old-fashioned car horn. David hopped out of the shower like his skin was on fire. He wrapped a towel around his waist and dashed into the other room.

Cass finished rinsing the soap out of her hair and shut the water off. She threw on a robe and towel-dried her hair as she walked back into her bedroom. And there he was, totally absorbed and in another world. She couldn’t help but notice the veins along his temples and throat rapidly pulsing, like a thoroughbred frantically racing to the finish.

Within a few seconds, he was talking in rapid-fire Italian. Between his understanding of Aveline’s French the other night, and his now speaking Italian, she wondered exactly how many languages he spoke.

Then she noticed that his overnight bag was on the bed and he was gathering his belongings while on the phone. She glanced over to the bedposts and noticed that his ropes were gone, too. They hadn’t been here long, but already she’d gotten used to them, like they were an extension of her furniture.

“Have you seen my shoes?” he asked her, looking around and not meeting her eyes.

“Um…” Her mouth was suddenly dry, like sawdust. “Look under the bed.”

He found them, grabbed some socks, and sat on her bed to put them on.

She waited for five, then ten seconds, until she realized he wasn’t going to offer her anything more.

“What’s going on? Was that your mother on the phone?”

He gave her a sideward glance, as if unsure how much to say.

“Yeah,” he finally admitted. “I’ve got some family stuff going on. It might take me a few days to sort through it all.”

“You don’t have to take all your clothes and gear with you,” she threw out. It was silly, but she wanted his things here, like they were a guarantee he’d come back. “I don’t mind having your stuff here while you take care of what you need to do.”

He stood up, turned around, and zipped his overnight bag. “Don’t worry about it. Really, this isn’t a big deal. Just give me some time to take care of it and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

He picked up his bag and left the room. She followed him to the front door and grabbed his arm. Was he going to leave? Just like that? No explanation? Not even a kiss goodbye?

She’d gotten a glimpse, when they’d gone to the restaurant, of the walls he kept up. What was it that had him so afraid to open up?

“I’m here for you, you know,” she said, pleading with every fiber of her being for him to lower his guard in some small way. “You can tell me anything.” She snaked her arms around his middle. “You always ask me what I want, what I need to heal and be me. Well, I’m telling you I want you to talk to me. I need you to lean on me, to trust that I’m strong enough to handle whatever’s going on with you.”

“That’s sweet. But I can tell you from experience, this is something I have to handle on my own.” He pulled away from her and slung his bag over his shoulder. “Listen, I’ll call you later. Enjoy some time with Allison. Maybe you can convince her to give my boy Leo another shot. He’s been driving me crazy ever since he found out I was staying over here with you.”

He was trying to keep things light by being funny, by switching the focus off himself and onto her roommate.

When she looked at him, she found that he was already looking at her, concern in his eyes. He was waiting for her to…what? What else could she say? What else could she do?

“Are you okay?” he said.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just go. Take care of whatever it is you need to do.”

After a moment, he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

Then he went to his bike, and in a few moments he was a distant figure down the road. She watched him until he disappeared

I’ll see you soon.

It wasn’t like she didn’t believe him. But the way he’d shut down as soon as something went wrong… What had happened on the other end of the phone that he assumed she couldn’t handle?

“Hello? Earth to Cassidy?” Allie waved her flour-covered hand in front of her face. “Anyone in there?”

She shook off the mental fog and refocused. “Yeah, uh…sorry, Alls. Just thinking.”

Allison clapped her hands together, sprinkling flour all over herself. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s happening. Getting it out of your head helps.”

“I don’t understand men,” she said, then she laughed. “Of course, I’m not sure I understand myself, either.”

“What happened?”

Cassidy shut the door and leaned against the wall. “He left. Something’s wrong, and I just wish he’d tell me what it is.”

“So he doesn’t want to tell you?”

“I guess not. But I wish he would.”

“Isn’t that his decision?”

Yes. Of course that was his decision. But was that all it was? She’d gotten the feeling he
did
want to tell her. So why hadn’t he?

She remembered thinking about how she was falling for him. Of course, she hadn’t confessed that out loud. She was terrified of scaring him off, of saying anything to thwart the affection and warmth she felt from him at that moment. He was beautiful. Him naked in her room was even more beautiful.

Cassidy stood in front of Allison, and even the delicious scent of baking cookies couldn’t offer comfort. Her stomach rumbled, but she didn’t care.

“Well?” Allison was waiting for her to respond.

Just go,
she’d told him.

She shook her head. Shit. Had she pushed him away in a moment when she should have urged him to stay?

“I should go to him,” she said. “Just let him know I’m here for him if he needs me.”

“You sure that’s the right idea? It sounds like he wants his space.”

“I’m not going to invade his privacy.” She looked out the window, back at the road where she’d seen him only minutes ago. “But I keep thinking about all those times I wished someone would have just told me they’d be there for me when I needed them. When—or if—I was ever ready. That’s what I should have told him. That’s what I need to go tell him now.”

Allison let out a long breath. “Well, if you’re going, don’t go empty handed.” She went to the kitchen and came back with a tin of fresh-from-the-oven cookies. “Here, bring these. It’s a poorly veiled excuse to come over, but it’s something.”

“Thanks, Allie. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Chapter Eleven

After three subway train transfers, Cassidy finally arrived at David’s neighborhood in Brooklyn. And because it was a Sunday, few of the express trains were running, which meant a trip that should’ve taken a little less than an hour instead took two hours one way.

She couldn’t really afford it, but she was definitely taking a cab on her way back home. Of course, she was really hoping that wouldn’t be necessary. She’d meant what she’d told Allie. She wasn’t going to force the issue, but she did hope that her invitation was all David needed. That if she reassured him that she wouldn’t reject him, he would soon be back in her apartment and in her bed, where he belonged.

She rubbed her palms up and down the fabric of her jeans, took a deep breath, and prayed he would be happy to see her.

She knocked on the door. Goddamn it, her heart was thundering like a cannon inside her body.

She waited for a couple of minutes and then tried the doorbell. She heard some muffled voices but couldn’t make out what was being said. They certainly were taking their time. She moved her bottom jaw back and forth while clenching and unclenching the free hand not holding a tin of cookies like a pathetic, overgrown Girl Scout—

The door flew open, and David—her gorgeous, strong, amazing man—was standing there in front of her. And wow, he looked pissed.

“Cassidy…what are you doing here?”

Wow.
Not exactly a response out of the movies.

He wedged himself between the door and the jamb to block her view of what was going on inside. That sent up some red flags. What the hell was so terrible that she couldn’t see inside?

Now
she
was pissed off.

“Actually, you didn’t say you’d call. You didn’t say anything. And you made it very clear you wanted me out of whatever the problem is.” Shit, this wasn’t what she’d come there to say. She had to stop herself or he’d be completely justified in turning her away. “This is coming out wrong. All I wanted to say was that after everything we went through, it feels wrong to have you dealing with something heavy on your own. And besides…” She held up the tin of cookies. “Allison and I actually got domestic and made cookies. I brought you chocolate chip with hazelnut.”

He looked at the tin in her hand like she had a bomb strapped to herself or something. Her insides crumpled and dropped, and it took everything she had to remain standing and appear unfazed.

“
Figlio
? Who’s at the door?” It was an older woman’s voice. She guessed his mother.

He turned his head but kept himself wedged in the doorway. “It’s nobody, Ma .”

It’s nobody. I’m nobody
.

She ought to dismiss what he was saying as him just shielding himself again, this time from whoever was inside. But the words hurt all the same. It had been a mistake to follow him.

Before she could turn to leave, his mother pushed him aside and opened the door.

“Mom, go back inside,” he said.

The woman smiled and came forward to take Cass’s hand in hers.

“
Buonasera
, I’m David’s mother, Teresa Cavill. Who are you?”

Cassidy glanced over at David, who stood there looking like a deer in headlights. His expression broke another piece of her heart away. She shook her head, as if trying to physically shake off her disappointment, and plastered as sincere of a smile on her face as she could.

“Hi, Mrs. Cavill. I’m Cassidy Peyton. I’m…a good friend of your son’s.”

His mother blinked a couple of times but didn’t say anything.

“I…I brought you all these.” Cassidy handed the cookie tin over.

His mother looked at it, confused for a second, then took it. “
Grazie
.” Her face brightened, and she grasped Cassidy’s hand, startling her.

David started forward. “Mom—”

“So you’re a friend of Dante’s?” Before Cassidy had a chance to answer, she plowed on. “Oh, it would be so good if he knew a nice girl like you instead of those…those
puttanas
!”

Cassidy didn’t speak Italian, but even she knew
puttanas
meant “whores.”

The bigger question, though: Who was “Dante”?

It hit her how little she really knew about David. This whole time, she’d been the one sharing her past and introducing him to her friends while he shared close to nothing about himself. Even the restaurant he’d taken her to had been Leo’s.

And the sex? Their joining in the bedroom, for all his talk of mutuality, had been one-sided. He’d made her feel safe. Cherished. Loved. But aside from a few scant details? He’d never opened up in return.

“I’m a friend of David’s, Mrs. Cavill,” Cassidy answered, watching a rollercoaster of emotions on the older woman’s face—from confusion to disappointment to hopeful again.

“Ah, so my David has finally found a good girl.” Damn, the woman looked so happy. So why did he seem utterly miserable? She didn’t know what to say, so it was good that his mother kept going. “We haven’t met one of David’s girlfriends since Marla, the last one, and she turned out to be…”

His body tensed, and the veins in his neck twitched. “Ma—enough already!”

She waved him off. “That Marla.” His mother practically hissed out the girl’s name and then made a spitting sound. Her mouth opened, ready to vent further on about the ex-girlfriend, when a loud thump came from upstairs, then successively louder steps came towards them.

And sure enough, there was a handsome, far less built, slightly older version of David coming down the stairs. His clothes were all wrinkled, and his hair was overgrown and all over the place, as if he’d just woken from a deep sleep.

This must be Dante.

Following close behind was an aged version of both David and Dante—she guessed it was their father. Like David, Mr. Cavill looked as if he worked out. His hair was more grey than brown. The minute both men saw Cassidy, they stopped in their tracks, looking dumbfounded.

Dante was the first to recover.

“Looks like baby brother finally brought me a decent birthday present,” he mumbled. There was a slight slurring to his words, and even though he was saying something crude and lascivious, his whole tone sounded flat, without real emotion. “Sorry to disappoint you, but they gave me one of my shots last night, so it’s gonna be a while ’til I can work up enough wood for you to blow me right.”

His parents looked as if they were about to die from embarrassment, and David seemed ready to take him out with his bare hands. But Cassidy didn’t let the comment phase her. She recognized something was off about Dante, and she knew from her time with patients that it wouldn’t help anyone to lose her temper.

“Hi, you must be Dante. I’m Cassidy. I’m actually a friend of your brother’s. I’m not your, um, present. Happy birthday, though. I brought some cookies over. I would have gotten you a present, had I known.”

Dante was off the stairs and was taking steps coming toward her when David blocked his brother’s way.

“Let’s slow down.”

Dante blinked several times, hard, in an almost mechanical fashion. “But what about Marla?”

David gave his brother a pained smile. “Marla hasn’t been around for a long time, man.”

“Hello, I’m Frank, the father around here,” the older man said, trying to lighten the tone. He reached out his hand, and she shook it. His hand was warm, calloused, strong, and his gaze upon her apologetic and appreciative. “It’s great to meet David’s girl.”

“Dad, she’s not here for
him
,” Dante said. “She’s here to give me a birthday blow job, aren’t you honey?” He gazed in Cassidy’s direction. His eyes never met hers, though. Not from embarrassment, she guessed, but more like he was stuck inside his own head.

She’d encountered his type before at her job, and she had sympathy for him. In some ways, she could understand his suffering. What must it be like to be trapped inside himself, not just unwilling, but unable to escape the garbled mess that was his mind?

She opened her mouth to say something to ease the situation, but Dante plowed forward.

“I only let the girls give me head because if I stick my dick in them, the government uses their snatch to stick tracking devices into me. I caught onto that trick back in 1985, and I’m certainly not falling for that again!”

Cassidy nodded. There was no use arguing with him. “Well, as I said, I came by to see your brother. I’m not here to service you.”

He went on as though he hadn’t heard her. “You’re lucky not to have tracking devices hidden in your snatch. I hear it hurts something awful.”

“Yes.” She offered a half smile. “I got lucky that way.”

David stepped forward. “Ma…Dad, I’ll get you all home in a minute. I need to talk to Cassidy outside.”

He took Cassidy’s hand, closed the door, and led her to the bottom of the stairs, far enough from the door that they could be alone, but close enough that she could feel a part of him was still inside, with his family.

She wanted to reach out to him so badly, to comfort him in any way she could. With her words, her body, her soul. But anger was coming off of him in hot waves, suffocating her.

“Is your brother’s illness your secret? Is that the burden you’ve been carrying around all this time? Because you don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

His eyes slid over her, an expression of disbelief on his handsome face. “You call it an illness, like he’s got a cold.” He rubbed his eyes, and when he spoke again, his voice sounded tired. Empty. “Call it what it is. My brother’s a paranoid schizophrenic.”

“I know,” she answered, her voice quiet, hoping he’d elaborate once he saw that she wasn’t repulsed or freaked out.

“He started showing symptoms when he was nineteen and I was fifteen. Went downhill fast from there.” He turned his head and shook it, lost in his own thoughts for a moment. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much it ripped me to shreds to see the brother I worshipped like a fuckin’ god become a paranoid, conspiracy theory obsessed train wreck.” He focused on her again, his hands on his hips, his body still wired and tense. “You know he used to go to Columbia?”

“No, I didn’t know that,” she answered. But she’d listen. If telling her what had happened would help him, she’d listen as long as he wanted.

“He was studying pre-law,” he said. “Fuckin’ brilliant mind. Still is when he’s going through a lucid spell.” He studied her as she stood in front of him, quiet and patient. “I first learned how to track a missing person by having to locate my brother. I can’t begin to tell you how many times he’d go off his meds and go missing, only for me to find him under a bridge or in some shit house, getting head from some crack whore.”

She wanted to touch his shoulder, anything, but when she lifted her hand, he turned away from her.

She swallowed. “That sounds horrible.”

David frowned and shook his head. “If he gets his hands on enough money, he’ll go to the track, or poker games. Between court fees and hospital bills and bailing him out of trouble with bookies, my parents almost went bankrupt. So now I support the family, and their only job is to keep him in line.”

She’d seen this before. How trying to save one life cost the family their own. They never knew when to open up. Never knew when to accept outside help.

“They’re getting older, David. They can’t do this forever.”

“Try telling them that!” he roared at her. “My mother, Christ, she’s wonderful, but she’s from the old country when it comes to this shit. Thinks that family keeps this kind of thing to themselves, as few outsiders involved as possible, and never, ever sends them away.”

“Would you like me to try and talk to her?”

He just stared at her as if she’d grown a second head. “This has not one thing to do with you. I still don’t know why you’re even here.”

She focused on the words she’d come here to tell him. “I came to tell you that you don’t have to open up to me right now. I came to tell you that I’m here for you if—when—you’re ready to talk to me.”

“Well, now you know,” he said. “There’s nothing left for us to talk about, so you can go.”

She sucked in a breath, his words lacerating the calm she’d built. Of all the ways she’d imagined he would respond, total rejection hadn’t even entered her mind.

“So what are you saying? I’m just here for you to tie up and fuck?”

That got his attention. He turned to her. “No. That’s not what I’m saying.” He rubbed his eyes then said, “I have to go. I’m heading out tomorrow. I know it’s early, before the two weeks are up, but we should end this now. Before this gets any worse.”

She hated herself for letting her anger explode, but he was pushing her away. Not just for now, but for good.

“So what? All those times you asked—no, take that back—
insisted
I share with you the pain of my life, you planned all along to get me to open up, then leave me?”

“You know that’s not what I wanted. We agreed from the start that I’d help you, but that’s it. This was never going to be permanent.”

“That’s not it, though,” she said. “You made sure of it. All your talk about mutuality. But it was never about that.”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t say anything.

Very well. She’d gotten this far by being the one to bear her soul. If this was how it was going to end, it was only fitting that it happened with her giving him everything she’d held back.

He was going to leave anyway. She could see it in his eyes. Hell, he’d said as much.

So to hell with boundaries. And to hell with fear. If he was going to bolt, at least let him do it knowing what he was giving up.

“You told me this was about mutuality. A true collaboration. But it never has been, because you’ve never given back to me as much as you take.”

He shook his head. “Cass—”

“You asked me to trust you with everything I have,” she said. “And I did. You told me to claim my desires, and I did.” She squeezed her fists shut. “You asked why I’m even here. It’s because I love you. And you’re supposed to be there for the people you love. In any way you can.”