Burn (Bayonet Scars #5)

Cesar and Joey recover from their fall and head toward us. I tense up immediately at the look on Cesar’s face. Joey’s annoyed, maybe even a little mad, but Cesar looks downright furious. I pick my gun back up and wait. I should move to stand between Cesar and Mindy, but he can’t be dumb enough to try anything with me here. I’ve never met the man before, but there’s a hate in his eyes that puts me on edge.

“What the fuck is your problem, you stupid bitch?” Cesar shouts in Mindy’s face. He grabs a hold of her arm and shakes her furiously. I don’t even think about what I’m doing. I lift the barrel of my gun to his head and pull the trigger.

Cesar’s body slumps to the floor. Mindy cringes and gently props her foot out so when his body grazes her boot, he slumps backward and doesn’t block her from getting down without stepping on him. She stares at me with wide eyes and fear in her eyes. This is what I don’t want to see in her eyes when she looks at me. She sees a killer and always will.

“He’s dead.” Her lips tremble.

“He touched you,” I say.

I warned her once, but she didn’t take me seriously.

I’ll bet now she does.

“Dude was shady anyway,” Joey says, backing away from me.

“I still need the Doberman. These two are free, and I’m not fucking paying for the kennel,” I say. Joey raises his arms in the air and backs out of the room.

Mindy stares at me with big, sad eyes. She hates what she sees, I can tell.

“You were protecting me. There’s no shame in that.”

Hours later, and we’re back in town. I know there’s a fucking party going on for my birthday at the clubhouse, but I don’t give a shit. Instead of heading there, I take us to the cabin after we drop off the dogs, which Mindy has named Missy and Punk, at a local vet. The vet seems to think they’re going to be fine, which is a relief. If Mindy were in a bad mood post-vet, I wouldn’t get to do what I want. And it is my birthday after all.

“We’re supposed to be at the clubhouse for that thing. Aren’t we?”

“Don’t worry. We’ll show up to my birthday party eventually. There’s just one thing I want to do first.” Dragging her in the house, I bring her to the bedroom and set her on the bed.

“Figured something out today, babe.” I take her boots off for her, then slip my socks off her feet. Her socks are in better condition and actually fit her, but the woman insists on wearing mine. She’s smiling as she sits here, watching me.

“That I want to make love to you.” Pussy alert. Serious pussy alert. If my brothers could hear this bullshit now, they’d never let me live it down. One, because I’m saying shit that makes me question my sanity, and two, because I’m still too big of a chicken to say what I really want to say.

“I keep messing it up,” she says. “I’m trying not to push your limits like I have been.”

“I know, babe.” I’ve had my hands over every inch of her flesh, but it’s not enough. She’s given me her body under such strict requirements—and yet none at all—but I need more. I need her. She gives me her whole body to do with almost entirely as I please, as long as I’m not too gentle. It unnerves her, the gentle touches.

When I’ve tried to go slow, take my time, and savor being with her, she’s pulled back from me. In the past, I was gentle, careful to touch her as though she were delicate and not strong and brave like she is. But she didn’t want it. She always says she needs the pain, but it’s just one more way to torture herself, so I’m done.

“I’m done with rough,” I say. My voice is heady with the emotion of this moment. “Kink I can do with you, but I won’t hurt you anymore. I can’t.”

“I don’t want to hurt you either,” she says and brushes my hair from my eyes. A finger trails over the scar Mancuso put there. “I’m hurting you every time I demand more than you can give. It’s not fair to you.”

As we undress one another, we talk in an honest and open way that I don’t think we’ve ever done before. At least not on this level.

“The knife I carry around was a gift from the man who scarred my face. It’s the same blade he used on my flesh, and it’ll be the same blade I use on his.” I’m quiet, careful not to say the words too loudly, as if by being louder everybody will hear them. I take Mindy’s tank top off only to find she’s wearing another one under it. A survey of the back reveals it’s custom made with PROPERTY OF IAN in bold letters. I smile wide at the silly thing but keep moving and toss it aside anyway.

“I get wanting to remember the pain. Like if you don’t let yourself forget it, then it won’t take you by surprise if it ever happens again.” She stares at me wide-eyed, fearful even. “But asking me to hurt you, wanting me to take you beyond my limit, can’t happen.”

“I won’t ask again. I don’t want to live in the pain forever. I don’t want you living in it forever.”

“Good, because I’m all about pleasure now, babe.”

“I don’t think I quite understand,” she says with a smirk and pulls me on top of her.

I make slow, sweet love to her that afternoon. We lie in bed and talk about the day we’ve had. Never once does she look at me with fear or disgust like I think she should, and never once do I feel like she’s pulling away from me.