Irrevocably Mine (Imagine Ink Book 3) (13 page)

He stared at her with an intensity that had come to mean either mind-blowing sex or he had reached his emotional limit for the time being.
Damn, how is it I can read him already?
When his lips thinned and he stood, Stacy knew it was the latter.

“Don’t do that. Not to me. Don’t cheapen what we have by using sex for anything other than our shared pleasure and an expression of our feelings, okay?” He covered that amazing ass and glorious cock of his with jeans he didn’t even bother to button, which was sexier somehow than if he’d been naked. “I’ve told you before, sweetheart, even I have my limits and I won’t let you treat me the way you do the other men,” he gritted the words out between his teeth, “who‘ve visited your bed.”

Dax didn’t say it as an insult but as a fact. It was painfully obvious, he was hurt by her withdrawal and attempt to cover up her issues with sex. She wanted to reach out to him and apologize more than she wanted to breathe, but she couldn’t.
Please understand, Dax. I need a little piece of myself for myself. I don’t know how to jump in headfirst. Please let that be enough for you for now, until I can give you every little piece.
Stacy shut her eyes and pled silently.

“I have something in my saddle bag that you need to see.” He headed out of the room, but paused at the door. “Plus, we really do need to have a heart to heart before we decide where this is going or where we will let it go.” With that, he disappeared. Listening to the front door close, she imagined how broken she would be if that was the final time he closed it. She couldn’t let that happen. She had to find a way to do what she must to keep him.
Damn it. I will. I can. I can do anything I want, I’m StacyfuckingRoberts, and nothing is impossible for me.

While she was mentally pumping herself up, Dax entered holding a large envelope and looking like a confessed murderer walking to his sentencing hearing.
Oh shit, this is going to be one hell of a talk.

T
he Stacy
he left sitting on the bed was a withdrawn woman protecting herself the best way she knew how. The way she had been taught at the hands of everyone who ever hurt her. But, the Stacy he returned to was the one who had let him kiss her scar and told him she
dinfasted
him. Now, he would crush that hopeful spark that sprung to life behind the mesmerizing eyes that held his future for better or for worse.

“I see by your expression we have some heavy shit to sort through, but would you mind if I go first? I’m afraid I’ll lose my courage if I don’t. Besides, you look like you’re shuffling down the hall toward Old Sparky.”

Dax was more than happy for the stay of execution, so to speak. He knew Stacy would not appreciate what he held in his hands, however, she was a reasonable and logical woman, so the fact it remained sealed had to count for something. That is, if she didn’t withdraw and use it as justification. Dax made his way to the bed, sitting half off and half on. The distance was crucial. All reason was lost as soon as he entered her orbit, so maintaining a buffer was important. Besides, if she was about to confess all, including whatever was in this folder, it would take the Man of Steel himself to keep him from wrapping her in his arms.

Of course, he knew better. If she opened up, he had to play it just right. If he crushed her to his chest, she would interpret that as him seeing a weakness and that would never do for this fiercely independent woman. Dax watched her take a deep breath and drop her eyes to her hands, which nervously rubbed together in her lap.

“Here goes. You know about my parents and Troy. You know about the cancer, obviously, and I assume John told you other things, too. All the awkward and painful moments that formed the sarcastic bitch that you seem to enjoy.” Her laugh was hollow, but Dax understand the need for a pause before she spoke of things that were obviously more painful than all the others combined. “One thing John wouldn’t have told you about, was Hank.” The name was like a fireball in his bloodstream that grew and exploded outward.

It took an act of every deity he could imagine to keep his ass on that bed. He wanted to rage and yell and kill. The look on Stacy’s face spoke volumes. Her expression screamed that the acts this taint troll committed were epically fucked. Now, he wished he had read the folder to be prepared.

“Condensed version. He came into my life for a purpose, none of which had anything to do with me personally. Ripped it to shreds and left me with more issues than a child actor. It was a civil suit against a woman accused of rape that the DA had declined to prosecute for lack of evidence. One day, during a trial break, I bump into him out by the food truck. We started a relationship and were practically living together almost overnight. He seemed to be Heaven sent…at first. And when it started looking like he may have come from the opposite direction instead, I mostly missed the clues. I was already so lost in him. It wasn’t until after…everything, that it all became crystal fucking clear.”

Stacy dashed her eyes with the back of her hand and left the bed to pace.

“You know, babe, it doesn’t…”

She cut him off with a sharp shake of her head and raspy words. “Please, Dax, let me finish. If I don’t do it now, I never will. I want to finally let it go. Speak of it now and never again, okay? I know you want to help and make it better for me. It’s who you are. I get that. I appreciate it, I really do, but the best way to do that is let me get through it? Then, well, I’ll let you do the touchy feely things, and ask questions or whatever, if that’s still what you want to do, or, I’ll let you walk away without trying to stop you if you feel that’s what you need to do. Either way, I need to say it…now.”

Dax nodded and clenched his teeth so tight he was sure his molars would end up poking up out of his lash line. How could she think he would walk away because of something that happened to her? He would never blame her for caring deeply about another person, even if they turned out unworthy.
Shit, will she feel that way about me when I come clean? If she believes I will judge her…will she judge me?
Dax was ripped from his doubts when Stacy continued in a shaky voice. An unsure sound tinged her words, a sound he’d never heard from her before, nor expected to.

“For clarities sake, I’ll follow the timeline as I knew things. Hank came into my life, we were inseparable.” Dax chanced a glance when she paused and the despair that galloped across her features nearly brought him to his knees. “I thought he loved me. I was completely at ease with him. I only wore my fake tit at work, because he made me feel secure in who I was and my body as is. They were great times in my life…at first. Slowly, he became distanced, irritable. I’m ashamed to admit, he broke me down. I tamed the parts of myself that he decided he didn’t like. I adjusted my behavior to try to make him happy. But every change I made only brought another complaint and another and another.”

Dax watched, helpless, as she questioned herself with what appeared to be renewed clarity. He dropped his eyes when she looked his way. There was so much rage inside him, he didn’t think he could tone it down for her right now. And she damn sure didn’t need to see it and possibly misinterpret it, so he averted his eyes and tense features. Besides, Stacy wouldn’t appreciate being stared at in that moment with rage or what she would feel was pity.

She tiptoed to the closet and continued speaking from within. It was obvious by the unsteady inflection that she was dressing, donning a layer of protection or armor because she felt exposed.

“One night, I went to meet with my client, strictly as a friend, as I had many times since the civil case had ended. The DA was moving forward with a lesser criminal case and he was nervous, and we’d developed a close sibling-type bond. I was getting dressed to meet him, when I noticed a dark spot through the backside of my prosthesis. I never looked at it anymore, you know. It had just become a thing I did, but for some reason, I looked at it. I went to the kitchen, and cut the fucker in half with a cleaver. There was a bug in it. A fucking bug.”

The last three words were spat like a curse, causing Dax to look up. Stacy stood in the closet doorway, with her arms wrapped around herself, and dressed for a snowstorm. She had on sweats, thick socks, and a hoodie that was drawn closed around her chin. She was swimming in that get-up and looking so lost. Stepping forward, she dropped into the overstuffed chair against the wall and drew her knees up under her chin, closed her eyes, and soldiered on.

“There was only one person who could’ve done it, but I refused to believe it. Even when all the other shit started adding up, I was willfully blind. The late night searches of our home he thought I knew nothing about. The extra glasses of wine he sweetly offered me so I would sleep a little harder. The smell of another woman. The sleepy whispered words. Anyway, I hid the fucking thing in my safe, but told Hank I simply misplaced it at the gym, which was the only other place I took it off, ever. The look in his eyes told me he was the one who’d put it there and he wanted it back. Even with all that, I was still fucking letting him sleep in my bed. Don’t you see? I lost myself to him, even though he was a fucking dick. I was so weak and needy that I just took his bullshit.”

“Stacy! I know you want me to sit down and shut up and just listen, and I am doing my damnedest to do just that. It’s not easy listening to what he did to you, I want to kill him with my bare hands, and I will if I ever see him, but I will not listen to you judge yourself for his choices. You’re guilty of loving someone and being loyal, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.” When she looked like she might shut down, Dax re-assplanted on the bed and apologized for interrupting.

“You have your opinion, and I have mine,” she said with a sigh. “A few nights later, Hank was gone on another so-called camping trip and I was awakened by the sounds of shuffling around and whispered voices. I reached for my gun in the bedside table, but it was gone. A man came out of my closet waving it at me and asked, ‘
You looking for this?’
I was terrified. He grabbed me by my ponytail and dragged me around the back of the house asking me to show him where to find the safe.”

Stacy stopped speaking and shuddered. “That was the last time I had long hair. I cut that shit off because I would never allow another person to use it to control me like a fucking dog ever again.”

Dax was sure that was said for her benefit and not his.

“Anyway, I was the only one that knew it was in the closet he just came out of. No one would ever find it, even if they were staring straight at it, unless they tried to lift it. It was disguised as a stack of designer shoe boxes. The lock was hidden in the logo at the back. And since I have hundreds of boxes of shoes, you’d never even think to search them.”

There is the Stacy I know and love.
Her trademark confidence was back when she spoke of her safe, which she was obviously proud of. But then, just as quickly, the shroud of despair descended back over her visage, as she finished this chapter of her story.

“Anyway, masked man, looking for safe. Another man from the front of the house came in and joined the party.” Dax felt sick, terrified he knew where this story was headed. It must have shown on his face, because she took one look at him and clarified. “Oh, no. Not that, Dax. The man who entered whispered something to the man with my hair wrapped around his fist. I couldn’t hear the other man, but the response was audible, even from my position on my knees. ‘
No, no sign of it and I can’t find the safe, but the gun was right where you said.’
A familiar smell teased my brain when the man entered, but I couldn’t place it. It still didn’t register who, what, or why. Not until sirens broke through the night at a distance but moving closer. The man from the living room headed back toward the front of the house and the one controlling me with my hair like a fucking leash, raised my own damn gun and struck me with it. I went down, but I wasn’t all the way out of it, when the words from the other man chilled me to the bone.
Leave off playing with her, DJ, and let’s go. Besides, you aren’t doing anything but turning her on, she loves that rough shit, especially the hair-pulling. Believe me, I should know.
My vision was blurred but from my position on the floor, I turned my head enough to catch him rub his crotch.”

Stacy shuddered.

“To which the other responded, ‘
You better not be enjoying her too much, my sister and I don’t like sharing you.’
Then, he raised both their masks just enough to fucking tongue wrestle the other guy. I was still trying to explain it away as the darkness took me. And well, the rest is a matter of public record. DJ Pryce and Hank Olson were found guilty of breaking and entering and DJ with additional assault. Hank just caught parole. The end.”

She may have said the end, but Dax knew it was anything but, however, he wasn’t going to push her. She had just recounted something draining and he wouldn’t push for more. That was enough…for now.

“Can I hold you now?”

Stacy hesitated as if trying to read him, shrugged, stood, and opened her arms. Dax didn’t hesitate to rush over and shelter her in his embrace.

A
hug had never felt so
intimate. Dax’s arms were warm and comforting. With a sigh, she sank deeper into his strong embrace. Guilt started pelting her like sideways hail. Dax had accepted everything she told him and didn’t seem to be turned off by her weakness, which was one reason she left off the tiny little detail of Hank being here.

One time could have been a trick of light, but by the fifth, she was sure. When Dax threatened to kill Hank, she faltered in her full disclosure position. She wouldn’t risk it. Dax was a man of his word. Not only could she not let him do something that stupid, she couldn’t lose him. And if he went off half-cocked, she knew she would, one way or another.

“So, tell me one thing, babe, how is he out already if he was messing with a trial? I assume that was his goal. Listening device, searching for something, leading you on, or am I wrong?”