Pieces in Chance (14 page)

It was obvious what had happened; the couple had fought, the man had killed the wife, then moved on to his son before offing himself. The fucker hadn’t even had the balls to face the music of what was coming to him, what he deserved. Instead he stole away any peace of mind Jensen could have gotten, any redemption for the poor boy named Shawn who’d lost his life for no reason. Shawn. The little blond-haired, blue-eyed little boy with freckles, with more bruises than he’d even realized was possible on one small body.

“Jensen,” Drew’s voice came hesitantly, her hand releasing his to pull his face up. He hadn’t even realized he’d dropped it, or that unwanted tears had coursed down his cheeks. “Oh, Jens.”

Movements slow and unsure, she kissed him softly, caressing his face. Jensen let her, trying not to think as her lips touched his, her kisses growing more confident.  He let her strength drown out the gruesome images in his head, replacing them with a tenderness only she could give him. A tenderness he couldn’t be more grateful.

After another kiss, he pulled back, a finger tracing down to her chin. He didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky to have her with him, there, in his bed, but he was grateful. Jensen knew he’d all but forced himself into her life, but she hadn’t seemed to mind – instead she’d accepted him, though hesitant to trust him at first. He couldn’t only hope she’d eventually trust him with her whole self.

“Drew,” he whispered, drawing her eyes to his lips. “I need you to know I’d never hit you, ever. I’m not your father – you understand that, right?”

“I know,” she told him quickly, but he shook his head.

“No. Don’t automatically answer that. I need to know you
really
know I’d never touch you in anger. Even if I’m upset or frustrated, even if we’re arguing, it would never escalate to that. I can swear that to you. Never, ever.”

Drew peered up at him, her eyes moving from his lips to meet his earnest stare. He was putting every truth he could muster into his expression – desperate for her to believe him. The scene today put everything into so much more perspective for him. He’d seen the effects of what could have happened to the amazing woman beside him, damage that had been just shy of what
had
been done to her. Part of what haunted him was if he closed his eyes, it wasn’t hard to picture a much younger Drew in place of Shawn, her small body broken and curled in on itself, trying to find refuge where there was none. He could only imagine the utter fear she’d felt, wondering if each beating would be the one to finally take her life. Even worse, he imagined she would have welcomed it at some point – the point at which she’d set her room on fire for the simple plan of getting out.

Jensen
needed
her to know that the future was going to be much different for her than her past. She would never know a single unkind graze of his skin on hers. He didn’t know what was in store for them, where she may go or what choices she’d make; he couldn’t make any promises in that regard. But this was one he could, and he’d rot in hell before he ever broke it.

“I know,” Drew repeated and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He searched her face for any doubt of words, but found none. She meant it, she knew it, and he’d live up to it.

“Thank you,” he uttered, pulling her lips back to his. Jensen had only meant for it to be a kiss but fire spread through him as she held him. Drew’s tongue teased the seam of his mouth, and he opened, letting her explore his mouth, doing the same with hers. They stayed locked in their embrace, their dueling of tongues and wills, until both were breathless.

“I want you,” he told her when he finally broke away, his hands trailing down her shoulders, her arms. He fingered the strap of her lace bra, the same color purple as the panties he’d removed from her earlier.
I should have taken this off,
he thought, but stopped his line of thought before he got too distracted with her. “But we need to eat. You hungry?”

The answering nod she gave him said she was, but the look on her face said otherwise; she was hungry, all right … for him. Every inch of man in him stretched and preened like a prized peacock, yet his stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly. Jensen hadn’t eaten since breakfast and he was famished.

“Food first, baby.”

Dressing in a pair of sports shorts, he started to hand Drew her clothes, but she shook her head and walked passed him. Moving to the dresser against the wall, she withdrew a pair of his boxers and slid them on over her bare skin.
Fuck that’s hot,
he mentally groaned. There was something so sexy about her wearing nothing but a skimpy bra and his boxers. Shifting, he adjusted his growing erection, knowing the thin fabric of his shorts would hide nothing; Drew didn’t miss the motion either.

She smiled and actually
winked
at him. She winked! Jensen knew he wasn’t ever going to get enough of that girl and almost tossed her back on the bed as she walked by. Unfortunately, she somehow knew of his plan seconds before he did and bolted around him, giggling as she ran toward the door, shooting him a seductive look before disappearing.

A grin formed on his lips as he stared, dumbfounded, at the doorway she’d gone through. Mere seconds passed before he laughed to himself and ran after her. He’d have his food, then he’d have her – if she’d let him. And judging by that look she’d given him? She was going to.
Hell yes.

Never had watching someone cook been so interesting to Jensen before. But watching as Drew moved around in his kitchen, barely clothed, nothing could have taken his attention away from her. It was like he was hanging on her every motion, from cracking the eggs, to scrambling them, and pouring the mixture into the frying pan. She was distracting and he found himself lost in thoughts of what he would do to her when he had the chance. It was easy for him to remember she wasn’t wearing panties under his boxers, and the thought had him shifting in his seat.

“Jens?” she asked, using the nickname she’d given him – the one that sounded so sexy coming from her. If he had his way, she’d never refer to him as Jensen ever again - Jens was way better in his opinion.

Glancing up at her, he could tell she’d been speaking to him, trying to get his attention for a bit. At least, that’s what he got, judging by her hands on her hips and almost concerned gaze. He’d been lost in his own thoughts.

“Sorry, what?” he asked and she smiled.

“I asked what you wanted to drink,” she told him, almost knowingly, like she knew he’d been thinking about her. Who was he kidding, she always knew.

“Oh, whatever is fine,” he answered, watching her once again as she nodded and poured glasses of water, setting them on the bar side by side. She quickly and efficiently plated the omelets she’d made, adding bacon after stealing a piece that had broken off.

Drew made her way around the counter to sit beside him and he stopped her before her butt hit the stool. She looked at him questioningly as he pulled at her hand, tugging her down to his level. He mouthed
thank you
and kissed her softly, smiling against her lips as a small sound escaped her. Jensen doubted she realized she’d even made it, but it was fucking adorable. He wanted her to make those sounds forever, maybe even record them, just so he could play them over and over.

“I really like you, Jensen,” Drew said softly when he let her go.

He was momentarily struck stupid, not knowing what to say. He more than liked her, more than
really
liked her. Did she not realize that? Sure, he hadn’t said it, he hadn’t thought he had to. If he was being honest with himself, he was in love with her – how that was possible for only four months, he wasn’t sure. Hell, he hadn’t even questioned the fact; he’d merely accepted it, just as he had the uncontrollable pull she had on him.

As he opened his mouth to speak, he realized she’d sat down and dropped her head, her hair covering her eyes as she stared at the floor. What he could see of her cheeks, she was flushed. Reaching out, he brushed a lock of hair out of the way, tucking it behind her ear before turning her face to him.

“I really like you, too,” he told her, copping out at the last minute. The words ‘I love you’ had been on the tip of his tongue, but saying them would cement the fact. Drew had her world ahead of her, had just gotten out of a terribly abusive situation, and the last thing he wanted to do was bind her to him. Well, not the
last
thing – in truth, he wanted nothing more than to keep her forever. But, when that happened,
if
it happened, it needed to be her choice, with no outside influence.

In the days he’d spent with her, she was growing more than she realized. No longer did she shy away from speaking to him, even calling out to him – where once she was shamed by the possibility of what she sounded like, there was none now. A spark was also igniting within her; Jensen could see its subtle changes in her, and it was as if he glimpsed another woman.

She wasn’t healed, whole, by any means … but she was getting there more and more. Being in his home had seemed to help as well. Drew was independent there, cooking for herself while he was working, reading a book, even working on getting her GED in her spare time. She hadn’t taken the roll of housekeeper, which he was grateful – instead that was a dual effort between the two of them, without ever being verbally agreed upon.

The smile that illuminated her face at his words stole the breath from his lungs. Her eyes glowed, and he hated himself a little that he hadn’t been entirely truthful. Drew was so happy by his small admission, his really liking her … he could only imagine how she’d be if she knew.

I love you, Drew,
he told her mentally, wishing he had the balls to say it aloud. But, instead, he pushed his plate away and pulled her lips to his. He put his feelings, the words he hadn’t said, into their kiss. She sighed against his mouth and he stood, moving toward her, and she opened her legs, allowing him to press against her where she sat.

It never ceased to amaze him, the unbridled passion inside her. He’d never expected it, but cherished it all the same. And when they’d made love? God, Jensen couldn’t remember a more satisfying experience. It had been amazing, her body accommodating him as if it were meant for him. And she’d been a virgin.
Wait a minute.
Thoughts running a mile a minute, he hesitated, his forehead propped against hers as he relived the experience. He couldn’t remember any pain, or pinch as he’d entered her, nor had he noticed any blood. There should have been blood.

“Drew?” he asked, stepping back, her forehead scrunched in confusion.

“Jensen?”

“You didn’t…” he trailed off, unsure how to phrase his thoughts. “Were you a virgin? I mean, when we made love? You didn’t…”

Drew’s eyes moved downcast once more and when she looked back up him, shame or something deeper covered her expression. Jensen hated the look, fucking despised it, but he needed to know what was going on. Backing up, he found his stool once more and sat, blanking his face of any emotion as he waited for her to answer.

“No.” The one-word utterance from her came with the weight of the heaviest chain imaginable. She gazed at him, her eyes dulling, no longer sparkling.

“I’m listening,” he said, though he knew she hadn’t caught his words. She wasn’t seeing him, lost in her thoughts as a tear slowly rolled down her cheek. The man in him who loved her wanted to sweep her off her stool, to tell her it was all okay and she didn’t have to talk to him. The man in him who needed to know, however, kept him rooted where he was. He couldn’t even offer her a hand to hold – if he touched her, the former would win out over the latter.

“I told you,” she whispered, shaking her head. “In the hospital. Th-the reason I was so desperate to escape … Yes, the beatings were part of it. But … but when he … when he unbuckled his belt again…”

Fuck.
Vaguely he remembered the story she had shared with he and Carrigan during their questioning; in his zeal to know what happened, the cause of the fire and to get answers, he’d completely forgotten. Drew had told them he’d beaten her, screamed at her; but when he went for his belt, trying to pin her down, was when she ran to her room – then set the fire, hoping to die. At the time he must’ve blocked it out. But … she said
again
.

Anger boiled through him and Jensen stood, flinging the stool to the ground, ignoring the clattering of metal against the kitchen tile. Images filled his mind, a beaten, bruised woman, dressed in a torn burka, crying. Another pleading for him to save her, to shelter her from her husband who had a gun and demanded things she wasn’t willing to give. Their voices blended together until the roar was all he could hear, their faces all he could see.