Black Sheep (16 page)

I shuddered, his breathy words making the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.

The shiver that moved through me made my entire body shake. Without knowing it, I’d needed him to take my mind off all the bad, and he’d come into my room and done just that.

All I could think about was his words and the way he felt behind me—holding me—keeping me safe from the sadness in the house.

“Tyson.” I whispered his name and moved closer to him, hoping his mouth would touch my skin.

He didn’t disappoint.

He pressed his warm lips against the skin beneath my ear, and my body shook with weakness.

“I know one day you’ll find someone,” he whispered. “And I know it’ll kill me when that happens. But I want you to be happy with all the things you deserve in life. I’m not one of those things.”

I turned onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. He didn’t pull away, but he adjusted his arms around me, pulling me even closer.

“You don’t think I deserve you?” I asked.

He sighed against my cheek, his sweet breath rolling over my lips. “You’re a good person, Nicole. You deserve good things. I’m not a good thing.”

Turning in his arms once more, I faced him. A tiny bit of moonlight moved over his face, allowing me to see him.

“Why do you think that? What happened to you to make you this way?”

I’d never come right out and asked, but I knew even before the question left my lips that he wouldn’t answer. Tyson never let anyone in, and I wasn’t any different.

His fingers moved to my cheek, the pads of their tips lightly feathering my skin. His eyes settled on mine, and then he said something that shocked me.

“I killed my father.”

Tyson

THE SECOND THE
words left my mouth, I wanted to pull them back and swallow them. I’d never said it out loud before, and saying it made it feel even worse.

I was a murderer—a vile creature—a taker of life, yet I was here holding the woman I loved more than life itself.

She wasn’t safe with me.

What if I hurt her?

What if the darkness in me took over and I took her away from this world too?

It could happen.

Obviously, I was capable of it.

Her eyes moved over my face, watching my expression as if she weren’t sure if I was serious.

I was.

“Your father overdosed, Tyson. That had nothing to do with you. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”

I shook my head. Sure I’d lose her forever after my confession, I forged ahead because the moment felt right. I’d harbored a deadly secret for seven years, and it was slowly eating me up inside.

Maybe if Nicole knew the truth about me, she’d understand I wasn’t purposely trying to hurt her. Maybe, she’d see I was really protecting her … from me.

“No.” I shook my head. “I did it. He asked me to shoot him up, so I did, but once he was out of it and lying on the couch, I gave him more. I knew what I was doing, Nicole. I killed him.”

The moonlight spilling in through her window reflected in the pools of tears in her eyes. Sinking her teeth into her lip, I could see her debating on how to respond. Something close to fear touched her expression, and it sickened me. I never wanted Nicole to be afraid of me.

“You said before he was a bad man,” she whispered. “What did he do to you to make you kill him? Because I know you, Tyson, and I know you’d never hurt another human being unless you absolutely had to.”

The memories reared their heads with her questions, flashing through my mind and knocking the breath from my lungs.

Needles.

Fingers.

Pain.

My father.

Needles.

I gasped and clenched my eyes tightly.

I could never tell her the disgusting things they did to me. She’d never look at me the same. Her mind was too innocent to know the horrors of the terrible things that went on outside her safety zone, and I didn’t want to be the one to ruin her views about people and life.

“I can’t tell you,” I said, hoping she’d let it go.

I should’ve known better. I’d let her in just a tiny bit, and she was running with it. Nicole wasn’t one to let things go, and I knew she’d continue to pry until I told her everything. Releasing such a horrid detail about my life meant she’d want to dig deeper, but I wasn’t sure how deep I was willing to let her go.

“Did he beat you?” she asked her voice soft and calming.

I nodded, and her eyes watered a bit more.

I didn’t want her crying for me. She’d done enough crying.

That was the reason I’d come to her room. I could only lie there so long and listen to her cries before instinct took over, and I knew I needed to hold her and make it better.

What I hadn’t planned on, though, was opening up about my past and releasing details that could potentially send me to prison.

I trusted Nicole would keep my secret, but I worried she’d never feel safe with me again. That was the last thing I wanted.

“Among other things,” I answered.

Her eyes widened, and her lips trembled. I hated upsetting her, but Nicole had always wanted in—she’d always wanted to know me, and I felt like my talking was taking her mind off the things making her sad.

Whatever I had to do to make her stop thinking about her parents for a just a while … I’d do it.

“I’m sorry those things happened to you, Tyson, but you had to do what you had to do. Something tells me if you hadn’t killed him, he would have killed you.”

I nodded.

It was the truth.

I wasn’t sure how much longer I would’ve survived the life I was living. I was small and fragile, and mentally, I was a mess. I still was. But I know if my father or his ‘friends’ didn’t kill me, it wouldn’t have been long before I killed myself if it meant getting away.

“You’re not bad, Tyson. You’re a survivor. You’re brave.”

At that, I felt tears prickle my eyes.

I shook my head.

“I’m not. He told me. They all did. I’m dirty, Nicole. I’m so fucking dirty.”

I was cracking, and it was unexpected. Things were getting out of hand. I’d gone to her room to comfort her, but here she was, comforting me—making me open up—taking in my darkness even though I’d fought with it the most over the years.

Her palm touched my cheek, and I jumped, the memories being too fresh and close to the surface to handle any touching.

“Let me,” she whispered. “I’d never hurt you. Not ever.”

She moved her thumb over my cheek, and I closed my eyes, loving and hating her touch at the same time.

“Who is they, Tyson?” she asked.

I was so lost in her touch I didn’t understand the question.

“What do you mean?”

Again, her thumb swept over my cheek. “You said
they
told you that you were dirty. Who are they?”

I swallowed and closed my eyes.

Answering her question would mean opening up completely—it would mean stripping all of my walls down and letting her walk through and take a tour of my mind. I couldn’t do that.

But then I opened my eyes and looked into hers. The love I saw there was the same love that had been there for the past seven years. From the first moment I’d laid eyes on Nicole, I knew she was special. She didn’t disappoint … ever.

I could trust her. Technically, I’d always trusted her, and I knew, even if my mind tried to trick me, she’d never hurt me.

The words rolled over my tongue, only getting stuck once before bouncing from my lips.

“My father’s dealers. When he couldn’t afford to pay them, he let them use me for payment.”

I didn’t say any more.

She didn’t need the details of the things they did to me. I could see it in her eyes. She understood what I was saying. A tear slipped from her eye and rushed over her cheek. Reaching up, I caught it. It was mine. She’d cried that tear for me.

“I’m sorry you went through that,” she whispered. “But they were wrong, Tyson. They were the dirty ones … not you.”

She leaned up and over me, forcing me onto my back. Then her hands cupped my cheeks, and her eyes captured mine.

“You’re everything to me,” she said. “You always have been. For most of my life, I’ve wanted to see all of you, and now that I can, I know one thing.”

“And what’s that?” My voice cracked.

“You’re amazing. I love you, Tyson,” she whispered, making my heart slam to a stop.

She looked me dead in my eyes when she said it, and no matter how badly I knew I should, I couldn’t look away from her.

Then I opened my mouth to say the thing I’d wanted to say from the first moment I saw her, but I’d never told anyone I loved them. Not in my entire life. I wasn’t even sure if I knew how to say it. I just knew I felt it, and the feeling was so overwhelming I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

She smiled down at me. “You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know.”

I’d just opened my heart and soul to her—I’d admitted that I’d killed the man who made me—and still, she was smiling at me and confessing her love. It was the most real moment of my life—the most beautiful.

Reaching up, I cupped her cheek and felt the warmth of her flow through my body. My eyes moved over her face, taking in her perfect nose and landing on her luscious lips, and I knew I had to taste them.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” I warned.

Her face lit up seconds before I leaned up and pressed my lips to hers.

Nicole

TYSON HAD BEEN
sexually and mentally abused when he was younger. I’d always known that. All the signs over the years pointed to that, but hearing him say it was crushing. For years, I wanted Tyson to let me in, and he’d finally done just that.

What started out as him comforting me turned into so much more. And as he kissed my lips and ran his hands down to my waist, I knew things had shifted between us yet again.

The anger I’d felt toward him miraculously disappeared, even if the hurt of seeing him with someone else was still there. But the more he kissed me, the more everything else faded away, and the more my body and heart responded.

He kissed me hard, turning us until my back was against the mattress, and he was leaning over me. He broke the kiss, allowing me to take a deep, needed breath, and then he pressed his forehead against mine and closed his eyes.

“You make me feel different,” he confessed, pressing a soft kiss to my nose. “No one can touch me the way you do … on my skin and in my heart. I need you. I’ve always needed you.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. The moment was real. I’d had dreams of Tyson treating me this way since my body began to crave his—since my mind stayed filled with all things him—but never in my wildest imagination did I think he’d actually do it.

His hand moved down my side until he was gripping my hip. He wanted me. I’d always had my suspicions about it, but with the way he was responding to me, I knew for sure he did.

Between my thighs began to throb, and I pressed my legs together. I couldn’t take it anymore; the ache was so extreme.

Even in the darkness, I could see his eyes move over my face, taking in my lips and nose before connecting with my eyes.

His hand moved along my hip before grabbing my ass and pulling me to him. I knew it was wrong to continue this way. I knew I was weak and broken, and I knew he was too, but I couldn’t help myself. Instead of pulling away, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his face to mine.

He didn’t pull away.

I touched my mouth to his, tasting his breaths and drawing his essence into me.

“I want you, Tyson,” I whispered against his lips. “I need you, too.”

A deep, sinister moan rushed over his lips and tickled mine.

“Say it again,” he muttered, his tongue peeking out and running along my bottom lip. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

“You … all of you,” I said in desperation.

He pulled back, his eyes scanning my face once more.

“All of me?” he asked.

I nodded, tugging at his shoulders to bring him close again.

“Even the darkness?”

His question caught me off guard, but I answered without having to think about it.

“Especially the darkness.”

And then I thrust my fingers into his hair and pulled his face down to kiss him. He didn’t stop me. He didn’t pull back. Instead, he kissed me back.

Hard.

Demanding.

Amazing.

His large frame pushed into me, pressing me into my mattress. Without hesitation, I wrapped my legs around his waist welcoming him against my center.

I’d never felt anything so freeing—so wonderful. Dreams of Tyson touching me and kissing me the way he was now had been a part of my life for so many years, and it was finally happening. I let go completely, allowing him full control of my body with the trust he’d been building for the last seven years.

I moaned with each brush of his body against mine. It was intoxicating—addicting—and I knew even after having him, I’d always want more. I couldn’t do anything about it. Tyson was in my blood—in my heart—in my soul.