Because even handcuffed to her bed, there was little doubt that Jensen was controlling the situation.
It should by all rights terrify her. She should be running as fast and as hard as possible in the opposite direction. But something stopped her. And she didn’t know what. There was a promise of something in his eyes that made her want to find out what. And whether she had any hope of ever moving beyond her past and into the present.
JENSEN woke with a start and cursed viciously under his breath. Kylie was curled into a protective ball on the far edge of the bed. Out of his reach. A low whimper tore out of her throat followed by more sounds of terror.
She sounded like a frightened child. And in many ways she was still that frightened, vulnerable child she’d been while she suffered abuse at her father’s hands.
This was why he’d insisted on staying with her. After her panic attack at the restaurant he’d been certain she’d suffer nightmares, that her past would be hovering on the fringes of her consciousness, just waiting for when she was asleep and vulnerable to attack.
And he couldn’t get to her, helpless to watch as she struggled against invisible monsters. Damn him for insisting on the handcuffs, even if he’d have done anything to make her feel safe. Because now he couldn’t hold her, couldn’t soothe her when she was in the throes of terror.
“Kylie. Baby, wake up. You’re safe. You’re with me. Wake up, baby.”
For a moment she was too firmly entrenched in the grasp of her nightmare to respond to his gentle crooning. Then she came awake with a gasp, sitting upright in bed, eyes wild and enormous in her small face. She looked straight ahead, pulling her knees protectively to her chest, and rocked back and forth.
Then she buried her face in her knees, and he could hear the muffled sounds of her sobs.
It broke his heart. Ripped him right in two. His heart was as shattered as hers, her agony his. Her heartbreak his own. Never had he felt so helpless, so full of despair that this beautiful, fragile woman was still a prisoner of her past.
“Come here, baby,” he said gently, praying she wouldn’t refuse his overture.
To his surprise, she didn’t argue. She turned, nearly diving into his one-armed embrace. Then she reached back to her nightstand for the key to the cuffs, fumbling to unlock them, yanking desperately until he was free.
He instantly wrapped both arms around her, pulling her against his body. She clung to him like a burr, her heart pounding against his. Her face was wet with tears and her breaths were coming in ragged puffs as she struggled to gain control.
“Shhh, baby. I’ve got you,” he soothed. “Nothing can hurt you now. I swear it. Let it go. Don’t let it control you any longer.”
He stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head, waiting for her to calm. To realize she was safe and that he had her. That nothing would hurt her when he was near.
“I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry,” she chanted, the words muffled against his chest.
“No, baby. Don’t apologize. Never apologize for this.”
He rubbed his hand down her back, stroking and caressing until he could feel some of the knotted tension leave her body. She wilted, sagging against him, her face buried in his chest.
Her shoulders still shook and he knew she was still crying. Every tear gutted him. Made his heart ache for all the hurt she’d endured. For the hurt she still experienced each and every night.
“Just let me hold you,” he said softly, allowing all the tenderness he felt for her into those simple words. “Go back to sleep now. I’ve got you. Nothing can hurt you here.”
She gave a little sigh and settled against him, her body sheltered by his own. Their legs tangled and she wiggled as if trying to get as close as possible to him.
He thought for a moment that she’d followed his directive and had drifted back into sleep. But then she went still. He could feel her pulse, a rapid staccato against his chest. She tensed as if gathering her courage to say something.
Instinctively, he tightened his arms around her, offering her silent encouragement.
“I hate this,” she said in a broken voice. A statement she’d made multiple times when it came to her weaknesses, as she deemed them.
He rubbed one hand up and down her arm, from shoulder to wrist, before tangling their fingers together, squeezing so she felt the support he offered.
“I hate him,” she whispered. “For what he did to me. To us. Me and Carson. I hate my mother for leaving us with him. I get why she would want out. But why would she leave us, knowing what a monster he was? Sometimes I think I hate her more than even him. How screwed up is that?”
Jensen knew that he was seeing a side of Kylie she hid from the rest of the world. That she was opening up to him when she firmly held back that part of herself from everyone else.
He was humbled and grateful that she’d chosen him. He realized it was due to proximity and the fact he’d forced himself into her bed, but he’d take whatever he could however he could get it. In time, she’d come to him willingly. Would open up to him without reservation or hesitation. Until then he’d satisfy himself with whatever tidbits she allowed to slip through her carefully guarded barriers.
“It’s not screwed up at all, baby. She abandoned you. And not just simply abandoned you but left you with a man she knew would harm you. You have every reason to hate her. I hope to hell you don’t spend even a minute feeling guilt over your feelings about your mother. You should have no guilt for hating the two people who should have loved and protected you. Two people you should have been able to turn to when you could turn to no one else. They betrayed you, Kylie. You don’t betray them now by hating them and what they did to you.”
“Thank you,” she said so quietly he almost didn’t hear the aching softness of her voice.
He squeezed her, holding on to her, never wanting to let her go.
“You’re more than welcome, baby. But I want you to promise me something, okay?”
She shifted in his arms and pulled her head away to look at him, though her lips trembled and he could tell it was difficult for her to meet his gaze. She was mortified that he was witnessing her at her most vulnerable. It made him want to kiss her all the more, but he refused to take advantage of her when she was so achingly fragile. It would make him a complete ass**le.
When he was certain he had her full attention, he let one finger drift down the line of her cheekbone and then to her chin.