Mercy's Angels Box Set (41 page)

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Authors: Kirsty Dallas

BOOK: Mercy's Angels Box Set
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“Did I kill the tree?” I murmured. Charlie laughed from behind me.

“The tree is safe, I’m horny as hell, and you need to eat. I could hear your stomach growling over the gunfire.”

Yeah, all this macho chick stuff was making me hungry and maybe a little horny, too.

As we made our way back to the cabin, I watched as Charlie took the cartridge from the gun, leaving it safely unloaded. He may not have been combat trained like Jax or Dillon, but he sure as hell looked every bit the hard and deadly warrior. As he led us through the tall firs, it made me wonder about the time he spent with Dave, learning how to overcome his anger. I have never seen Charlie lose his temper. I have seen him irritated, angry, seething in fact, but he has always managed to keep himself relatively contained around me.

“Did you ever hurt anyone when you lost your temper?” I found myself asking. The panicked look on Charlie’s face made me regret my question. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him hurting someone, especially if it had been a woman. His hand ran through his hair making it stick up in all directions. He didn’t answer right away, and when I began to think he wasn’t going to, he spoke, his voice low and rough.

“You gotta understand, Rebecca, I was in a bad place emotionally. I was only a teenager, I was fighting both inside and outside the ring. My parents had just about driven me certifiably insane, and I know that isn’t an excuse, and that’s not who I am now. Mercy pulled me out of that life and if it wasn’t for her, I’d be dead, in prison, or worse—I could have hurt someone I really cared about.”

I stopped walking, and when Charlie realized it, he turned around to face me. The pain in his eyes had me wanting to reach out and take him in my arms, but my heart was pounding furiously with angst. What had he done? He shoved the gun in the back of his jeans and rubbed his suddenly tired looking eyes.

“I was seventeen and had been matched up to fight another seventeen year old by the name of Michael Hayward. It was an evenly matched fight both physically and experience in the ring. It was a full contact fight with limited protective gear. There were eight, two minute rounds, so it was a pretty intense fight for semi-professionals. Michael was renowned for taunting his opponent, it’s how he worked, making it more of a psychological battle, and even though I was prepared for it, I lost it.” Charlie cast me a worried gaze. “He spent most of the fight insulting my parents.” He shook his head, a grim smile on his lips. “He obviously didn’t realize I could care less what he had to say about them. But he found my weakness when he verbally attacked Mercy. I just lost it. It was like everything else failed to exist and all I saw was Hayward clouded in a red haze. I went at him with everything I had and it took three officials and my coach to drag me off of him.”  Charlie kicked at a pine cone, his strong carefully constructed persona suddenly compromised with his guilt ridden admission. “I was covered in blood and Michael wasn’t moving. I thought I’d killed him, and the fucked up thing was, I was still so high on anger, I didn’t care. In fact, if he would have tried to sit up, I would have gone at him again. It wasn’t until later, when I had calmed down, the realization of what I had done hit me. Michael never stood on his own two feet again, a fracture in his spinal cord had him stuck in a wheel chair, paralyzed from the hips down.” I gasped and hated the sadness in Charlie’s eyes when the sound passed my lips. “The only thing that prevented criminal charges was the fact that Michael had a pre-existing back injury that he and his team kept from officials. He wouldn’t have been allowed to fight if they’d known about it.”

The lost, distraught look on Charlie’s face had me take the few steps to him. I wrapped my arms around his torso, burying my head in his chest. He was quick to return the embrace. “That’s not on you, Charlie,” I murmured, my voice somewhat muffled in his body. “You were just unlucky enough to be the poor schmuck who had to fight the ass. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else. Michael shouldn’t have been fighting, his injury was obviously a ticking time bomb waiting to happen.” Charlie’s lips pressed against the top of my head.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Betty Boop. If I had kept my cool and fought the rest of that match like I had done the previous seven rounds, I would have won. I was ahead on points anyway and Michael’s injury and the burden that lay with it may have eventually lain on someone else’s shoulders. Hell, he might even still be walking.” Charlie released me and stepped away, though his hand stayed on the back of my neck. “But it is my burden to bear and it’s a reminder of what I am capable of. That memory helps keep my temper in check. I never fight in full-contact fights anymore; only light-contact or sparring.” He gave me a pointed look. “I promise you, I will never hurt you. I won’t ever hurt anyone like that again.” Then he grinned with malice. “Unless I get the opportunity to be in the same room with the son of a bitch that hurt you. That fucker is absolved from my no-hitting policy. I will tear him to shreds and not blink an eye while doing it.”  His declaration should have scared me, but it had the opposite effect. It made me love him just a little bit more. And love it was. This was no high school crush, no lust driven itch, no simple friendship. What I felt for Charlie Cole was pure, unmistakable, heart filling love.

Chapter 16
Charlie

Telling Rebecca about my fight with Hayward was like lifting a heavy weight off my shoulders. I would always carry the guilt over what happened to Michael, but with Rebecca knowing, I felt like there were no more secrets between us. We had passed through a relationship door of sorts—we had reached the point where we no longer had secrets, our hearts and souls were completely exposed and vulnerable—it was in this place our relationship could only flourish. My promise that I would never hurt her was the easiest declaration I have ever made. It would be simply impossible for me to harm a blonde hair on her beautiful head.

Watching Rebecca fire a weapon has seriously been the sexiest thing I have ever seen. I knew she’d been nervous, even a little repulsed by the idea of firing a gun, but by the time she finished, she had a new respect for firearms. The little spark in her eyes had been full of power. She’d missed the tree by a longshot, but damn if I wasn’t impressed by her determination. We would practice every day to help build her confidence in handling a weapon. I hated that she had to do this; I hated that she needed protection. I wanted to give her back her cozy life in her cute little house, but I couldn’t help but love all the one on one time I was getting with her. Yeah, I was a selfish prick through and through.

Later that day, I watched her flit around the kitchen like it had been made for her. She had quickly settled into my home; she fit here perfectly. I could absolutely get used to her being here permanently. Just doing normal stuff like cooking together, eating together, showering together—I wanted it all.

“Charlie, when are you supposed fight Luke?”

“Next week.” Her question brought me from my Betty Crocker haze. I finished chopping the onions and put them in a bowl beside her, ready for her world’s famous Donovan chili she was preparing.

“Well, since it seems as if Luke isn’t the one who hurt me, maybe you don’t have to fight him anymore. I don’t want you to break your no-hitting rule because of me.”

I leaned against the counter beside her, not wanting any space between us. “He might not have hurt you, but he was still an asshole who was disrespectful to you. He needs to be knocked down a peg or two. Besides, I’m in better control now than I was all those years ago. I’m not concerned that I’ll lose control of myself. And this fight with Luke is a one time thing. I trust the General. He’ll make sure it’s a low contact fight with minimal risks.” Rebecca looked up at me from under those long lashes. The little spark in her eye made me smile.

“You realize that’s total bullshit, don’t you?”

“Bullshit?” I raised a brow.

“You don’t have to fight him just for being disrespectful. Shit, Charlie, do you have any idea how many men have spoken to me in a less than respectful way over the years? Are you going to fight them all?”

“There’s a good chance,” I said, shoving a few slices of carrot in my mouth. Rebecca sighed and shook her head.

“What if he says something about me and you lose your damn temper,” she murmured.

I moved to stand behind her and didn’t miss the tension that coiled through her body. It didn’t last long, but it was still there. I wondered if it was because of my recent admission or her memories of the attack. “Rebecca?”

“I’m okay,” she whispered. “Just bad memories.”

I ran the tips of my fingers over the gentle slope of her shoulders. She was small, but not as small as Ella. Her blonde head sat under my chin as if she was made for me. My hands continued down her arms, eventually leaving to trace the line of her waist and eventually finish my exploration under the hem of her shirt, my hands resting on the slight roundness of her stomach.

“Just another bad memory we are going to replace with a good one.” I nibbled her neck and smiled when she all but melted into my embrace.

“You’re trying to distract me,” she breathed.

“I’ve got my temper under control, Betty Boop. I’d rather fight Luke in the ring, under the watch of officials than confront him in the street.”

Rebecca shook her head. “Freakin’ Neanderthal,” she muttered.

I laughed and brought my lips to the shell of her ear, pressing slow kisses down her neck, inhaling her soft vanilla scent. “You’ve got me torn in two, baby,” I whispered. She tilted her head slightly so I could nuzzle closer.

“How so?” she whispered breathlessly, and I marveled that I could make her feel that way.

“On one hand, I want to put you on my arm and parade you around town like the treasure you are. I want everyone to know you’re mine and I’m yours.” I licked her neck and she shivered. “Then on the other hand, I want to keep you here, in my home, in my bed where no one else can touch you, where no one else can even fucking look at you.” She reached up and grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling my lips to hers. I groaned and kissed her with everything I had. When we finally parted, her big beautiful eyes looked up at me with wanton desire. “Dinner first, dessert later,” I murmured with a parting kiss to her nose.

“Damn tease,” she growled.

I never brought women up here, so it was fair enough to say that I wasn’t prepared for romantic candle lit dinners, but I found some candles hidden in the back of one of the drawers. I can’t remember buying them or stuffing them in the bottom of that particular drawer, but I’m thankful for the forgotten decision to do so. I didn’t have a lavish dining room, but I wiped down the island in the middle of the kitchen and lit the candles. I didn’t have any wine, so beer would have to do.

After setting the table, I brought Rebecca to her seat and pulled out her chair, helping her climb up onto the stool. The genuine appreciation of my effort in Rebecca’s eyes was enough to commit me to doing this regularly for her. The silence as we ate was comfortable, interrupted only by my possibly far too vocal moaning and enjoyment of Rebecca’s famous chili. She arched one of those perfect eyebrows in my direction and I shrugged.

“I thought we covered this, I get a hard-on for food.” She shook her head and took a swig of her beer.

“So,” she began, “when we go back into town, I thought I might talk to Dave.”

I was both surprised and pleased with her decision. “That’s a great idea, and if you find yourself uncomfortable talking to him, he can recommend someone else, someone you can trust.” Rebecca was swinging her legs back and forth and I realized it was out of nervousness.

“If you’re not ready to talk to him, don’t force it. Dave isn’t going anywhere.”

She pushed her empty plate forward a little, and fidgeted with her empty beer bottle. “He helped you, obviously.”

I nodded in agreement. I owed my life to both Dave and Mercy. “He did. He helped me realize where my anger stemmed from. Once we knew where all that shit was buried, I was able to address it, deal with it. I was angry with my family and lashed out at not only them, but everyone around me. I had to let that anger go, I had to move forward. I still get pissed from time to time when I think about my childhood and some of the shit I went through, but I know that it all turned out okay. I’m good now. I have a good job, I’m fit, healthy.” I caught her eye when she looked up at me. “I’ve got a beautiful woman in my life that completes me. Anger doesn’t control me anymore.”

She blushed and covered her reaction with a smart ass remark, “Except for Luke Hollywell.”

“Except for Luke Hollywell, and the other asshole that hurt you. There is a special place on my shit list reserved for that asshole. You can’t blame me though, they hurt what’s mine, and don’t get me wrong, I might not have realized it at the time, but you were mine.” Rebecca slid down from her stool and began clearing the table. “You get nervous when I speak about my feelings for you,” I observed.

She cast me a quick glance over her shoulder and shrugged. “I guess I’m not used to it. My parents died when I was young, and my grandmother brought me and Emily up. She was pretty old fashioned and had been raised by her own grandmother, who was pretty cold and impassive. My grandmother loved Emily and I, there was no doubt about it, but she didn’t know how to express that love, she never said the words and I guess I never really needed to hear them.”

I understood what it was like to grow up in a home that lacked love and affection. “My mother once told me she thought Satan had deposited me in her womb as punishment for her impure thoughts.” Rebecca looked horrified and I laughed at the outraged look on her face. If my mother walked into the room right now, I think Rebecca might just get a little scrappy. “Mercy never let a day go by where she didn’t tell me she loved me, that I was worthy and cherished. She wiped away all the crap my parents fed me, and helped me become the man I am today. Never doubt the power of words, Rebecca, they can help you heal, make you feel whole. Not a day will pass where you won’t hear those kinds of words from me.” She just stared at me as if searching for the truth and when she saw it, she took the three too far away steps towards me. I pulled her into my body and kissed the daylights out of her.

“I want you,” she whispered, when I finally allowed her to breathe.

“Go upstairs and run yourself a bath. I’ll clean up down here and lock up.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I won’t be far behind you.” Rebecca quickly disappeared upstairs and I found myself cleaning like a man possessed. I wanted to give her enough time to think this through. As much as I didn’t want her to change her mind, I didn’t want her doing something she wasn’t ready for either. Once I secured the locks, then double checked them, I took the stairs two at a time. I followed a trail of clothes from the bedroom door to the bathroom, and chuckled as I picked them up. The bathroom was in a haze of steam, the Jacuzzi full of hot water, and Rebecca submerged to her neck in bubbles. “I have bubble bath?” I asked, a little surprised.

“Shampoo,” she admitted without opening her eyes. Damn she was beautiful, her hair was in a messy bun on the top of her head, her face free of makeup. Her big blue eyes opened to settle on me staring at her from the doorway. “Are you doing laundry?” she asked, taking in my arm full of clothes.

“You know something,” I asked, placing the clothes on the bathroom counter, “I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, in clothes and out of them. But I miss the pretty dresses and skirts you used to wear.” She looked surprised and sat up a little straighter as I knelt by the tub.

“You don’t think they were silly? Immature?” she asked.

It shocked me into silence. Rebecca Donovan radiated confidence. She never cared what anyone thought about the way she dressed. Her ability to hold her head high and disregard the curious looks she got by people who didn’t know her was just one of the many things I admired about her.  “Did you ever think they were silly?” She shook her head. “Then what does it matter what other people think.” She looked away and I put my finger under her chin and brought her eyes back to mine. “I’m not going to let him take away your confidence, Betty Boop. It’s not his to take. You are a strong, intelligent, sexy, spirited woman. You wear those hot as hell sexy outfits because that’s who you are. You don’t give a fuck what others think about you, and that’s just one of the things I love about you.” Her sharp intake of breath alerted me to what I had just said. I loved her? Fuck, I guess I did. If being in love was seeing yourself grow old with someone, seeing her belly grow with your child in it, kissing her lips at the end of every day and at the start of every morning from here until eternity, then hell yes, I was in love. “Don’t you dare say it back, ‘cause that will make me think you’re only saying it because I did. Say it when you’re ready, when it feels right.”

I stood and began peeling off my clothes. Her eyes were glassy as I watched her gazing at me. Even though I was nervous about how she felt over that little chick-flick moment where I talked about my feelings for her, I will still as hard as steel. Not only my heart wanted her, my body did, too. My feelings for Rebecca had seeped deep into my body, right down into my heart. Every little thing about her was beautiful—her stubborn pride, fierce independence and strength, and the subtle fragility that I could see underneath all that passion and intensity.  Surely those images of perfection would never disappear from my eyes. Loving Rebecca for the rest of my life would be the easiest thing I would ever do.

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