Honor by Jay Crownover
From anyone else, it would come across as simple curiosity, but I knew that coming from him, it was the beginning of his mind working toward payback and revenge.
“Some lady. She looked like a kindergarten teacher. She told the cops you ruined her life and that her husband left her because of you. You have any idea who that is?”
He bit out a word in a language I didn’t understand and then let his head fall forward on his neck. I thought maybe he was going to pass out again, so I pressed myself up against the front of him and put my hands on the roof of the car behind him, making a cage out of my body. He looked down at me and the corner of his mouth quirked up.
“She’s the wife that went after her husband with the beer bottle. She’s a piece of work, but I didn’t think she’d be stupid enough to come after me.”
“You do tend to bring out the worst in people.” His chest rattled with something that was a rough and broken version of a laugh. Slowly his head fell forward until our foreheads were touching. I couldn’t stop the sigh that fluttered out of me. For some reason, this moment felt more intimate than when I kissed him or when I had my hand around his dick.
“I want to go home.”
I gulped a little because I had witnessed Nassir act a lot of different ways, but vulnerable and exposed was a new one. I’d seen him like that once before, as he held me as I bled all over the floor of the strip club when my city bit me hard. It was the look that sent me running and it was that same look that brought me back to him. It seemed to reach deep down inside of me and shake loose the last of the reserves I had stored up to fight him and resist him. Blood, injury, hurt, violence, disappointment, and risk were the things that made the Point what it was. They were a constant. That bad things would happen was certain and inevitable; what wasn’t guaranteed, what wasn’t common, was finding someone in this place that made you feel special and safe. It was almost unheard of to stumble across someone that made you feel worthwhile and told you time and time again they would fight for you. Coming across a powerful man that was willing to wait until you were ready for him was like coming upon a treasure hidden in a pile of garbage.
He was going to get taken away from me, or I was going to get taken away from him, but we had right now, and I understood that finally. I had spent so much time running from an inevitable disaster that I never stopped to allow the good things to flourish. I was strong on my own but even stronger with him by my side. I walked my own path but I never would have been able to take those steps if he hadn’t been ahead of me clearing the way. I would rather have Nassir for a heartbeat than never have him at all, all the while spending however long either of us had left fighting an unseen future. I would rather fight with him and make up over and over again than keep fighting against the inevitable impact he was going to have on my life and the forever place he had in my heart.
“I’ll take you home and take care of you, Nassir.” I leaned forward so I could whisper the words against his neck. Finally, something shifted, something broke between us, and he wrapped his arms around me in a hug. When at last he put his hands on me, I felt his power more forcefully than I ever had before. I felt my heart slip down to my toes and then jump right back up and try to beat out of my chest to get to him. All of me wanted to make sure he was okay.
The paramedic and the cop that had hauled me up the hill earlier came over and Nassir and I broke apart long enough for him to sign the paperwork. The young EMT gave me a look and told me out of the corner of his mouth, “He really should be in the hospital. If you care about him, you should encourage him to go.”
I shook my head. “I don’t fight battles I can’t win.” Which was a lie because I had been fighting against Nassir for years and was about to lose everything I had to the man. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“If he starts to get nauseous or starts to black out again, bring him to the ER. That head wound isn’t a joke. He could have serious brain trauma. That was a wicked crash.”
I told the young first responder, “He has a really hard head.” Nassir must have heard me because he gave me a dirty look and pushed off the car.
“Let’s go.”
He shuffled and limped to the passenger side of the car and got inside without any help or any more words. I shrugged at the cop and the paramedic and took the card the cop handed me, a card with his number printed on it and the number of the tow company that was hauling off the mangled car. He also said they might need to talk to Nassir when they decided exactly how they were going to charge the deranged female driver. I told them they could wait until he was feeling better and that they could get in touch with me if they needed anything in the meantime. Now that I’d realized that Nassir was as much mine as I was his, I was going to protect him the same way he was always protecting me. I was going to stop fighting him and start fighting anything that tried to get between us or tried to shorten the time we had together.
I got into the car and he immediately reached out and took my hand. It made my entire body shiver. At that moment I wanted him to take me, to put his hands on me and make me feel out of control; the feeling was so strong that all I could do was turn away from it. I never expected that Nassir’s touching me with softness, with the need for comfort and care, would be what ruined me. That in the quiet and dark, his humanness would shine through and that would be what got to me. His violence and brutality had battered against the walls around my heart for years and only made a tiny bit of headway. But his vulnerability and weakness slipped right through like the barrier never even existed.
“How badly are you actually hurt?” I kept my voice low and his fingers twitched around mine, indicating he wasn’t doing so hot.
“I have a concussion and the cut on my scalp needs to be sewn shut. The seat belt jacked my shoulder up and I think I have glass in my face, but I’ll live. I’ve been through much worse.”
I had never wanted to know about where he had been before coming here. I couldn’t imagine any place uglier and more dangerous than this city, but Nassir never seemed to think the Point was that bad. I couldn’t imagine worse and knew I should fear and not love the man that was able to survive it.
“You want to tell me about the worse?”
He turned his head to look at me and the edges of his mouth pulled down. “No, but one day I will. Do you think that woman had anything to do with the rats? Seems highly coincidental that the rats and the accident happened on the same night.”
I drove into the hills and sighed when the ornate gate and the formidable guard came into view. He waved us in after giving Nassir a concerned once-over and I turned a little to answer my battered passenger. “I don’t know. I got the cop’s number, so I can call and ask him to question her about it, but that seems unlikely. Most women hate rodents and that was a lot of creepy-crawlies.”
“True. And if she wanted after me, all she had to do was wait until I left work. No need to shut the business down. Son of a bitch, how many people are trying to fuck with me?” He sounded frustrated and pissed off.
I parked in front of the house and reached out to brush the back of my fingers across his cheek. “No more than usual. They’ve just been better at it lately.”
He sighed and caught my wrist. “You’re right. I’ve been focused on something else, so my guard has been down.”
I realized he was talking about me, but he climbed out of the car with a groan before I could form a response. I scrambled after him and caught him as he got to the front door. He reached for the handle but the door opened before he made contact. Bayla stood on the other side and she gasped when she saw him.
He pushed past her without a word and headed right for the stairs that led up to his master suite. Her dark gaze landed on me, heavy and accusatory. “What happened to him?”
I had to physically move her out of my way to enter the house. She was a lot shorter than me but she was strong and she was sturdy. She grabbed my elbow and jerked me back around to face her once I crossed the threshold.
<
I shook her off and put my hands on my hips. If Nassir hadn’t been hurt and needing me, I would’ve thrown down with her. I wasn’t scared to make a point with a well-placed fist in the face, but I had more pressing matters than a jealous housekeeper to attend to.
“He was ruined long before I entered the picture, lady. In fact, I’m the only thing that’s ever had a shot at fixing him. Stay out of my way and mind your own business. When I decided to come home, it wasn’t just returning to a place, it was me coming back to him. He’s home to me, and that means I will destroy anyone or anything that messes with that.”
The other woman stiffened and tossed back her long fall of dark hair. She was gearing up for a fight but I didn’t give her the chance to start. I held up a hand and leaned closer so that we were almost nose to nose as I growled at her in a low tone, “If you want to keep your spot in his house, then learn your new place. The history between the two of us is heavy enough to crush anyone that gets under it. He made room for you in his house, but I’m the only one he’s ever made room for in his life. Understand?”
It was proprietary and possessive. It felt really good to say. I’d been so worried about being his I never stopped to consider how amazing it would feel for him to be mine.
She arched a winged black brow and her mouth pulled tight in a frown. “You’re saying if it comes down to me or you that he will pick you.”
“Damn straight. Now, excuse me, I have to go put him back together.”
She watched me walk toward the stairs that led to Nassir, and said something in a foreign language as she slipped out the front door. One of these days I was going to have to ask Nassir what he was saying and what language he was saying it in. When I got up to his room I wasn’t surprised to see that the entire space was decorated in black, and even in the wood-walled room it still managed to be modern and sleek. His bloody shirt was tossed carelessly on the bed next to his pants. I heard water running in the bathroom and followed the sound.
The room was steamy and I could see the golden silhouette of his powerful body behind the glass surround of the walk-in shower. I turned to look at myself in the mirror over the double sinks and cringed at the sight that greeted me. I looked like a wild woman. Streaks of dirt and blood ran across both my cheeks and my bright hair was standing up all over the place on the top of my head. Black eye makeup smeared under each eye made me look like a raccoon and I had twin splotches of hot pink on each cheek from adrenaline and stress. I looked like the Point had chewed on me and spit me out.
I turned around and propped myself against the chilly marble countertop of the vanity as the water shut off and Nassir stepped out. I never thought he could look more elegant than he did in one of his fancy suits, but totally naked, he was something to behold. The elegance was still there but it was buried under tawny skin stretched over hard muscle, and hidden behind various scars and marks. He looked powerful and strong even though he was obviously pale under his dark complexion.
He wrapped a black towel around his waist and nodded toward the shower. “You can clean up if you want. I need you to help me close this wound on my head.”
I flinched and looked at his shiny wet locks. Heavy with water, his hair hit his shoulders and looked like black satin.
“Gross.”
He chuckled drily. “You’re filthy and need to clean up before I take you to bed.”
I snorted at him and pushed off the counter. “You have a concussion and a head wound. You really think I’m going to have sex with you when you’re all busted up?”
I gasped as he reached out and grabbed the front of my shirt to yank me toward him. He pulled me so that our chests were touching and then started tugging the shirt out of my pants so that he could wrestle the fabric up over my head.
“You think you have a choice? I told you once I got my hands on you, they weren’t coming off.”
I frowned and pulled back a bit as he expertly popped the clasp on my bra and moved his fingers to the button on my pants. “You’re hurt, Nassir. I’m not going anywhere. Sex can wait until we both can enjoy it.” I stepped out of my pants when they pooled around my ankles and his eyes got some of their usual fire back in them when he saw I hadn’t been wearing anything underneath the skintight fabric.
“Get in the shower, Key.” Deciding that was the best course of action to avoid further argument, I climbed into the opulent glass enclosure and gave myself a quick scrub-down. When I got out he handed me a fluffy robe that was six sizes too big but immediately engulfed me in softness and comfort when I slid into it.
He had a black box open on the vanity and was digging through it. A pair of tweezers with blood on them were sitting next to the sink and he had a white bandage taped across the wound on the side of his neck. He had several little nicks on his cheeks and on his forehead that looked like he had gotten into a fight with the razor while he was shaving and the razor won.
“Jesus. You’re doing your own triage.”
“I had a few pieces of glass in my face I couldn’t get out with my fingers. I can’t see the top of my head, so I need you to put a stitch or two in to hold the gash closed.”
I recoiled automatically at the brutality of it. “They have these people called doctors that go to school to learn how to do that.”
“A doctor would want to shave my hair around the wound. No thank you. It’s simple, like putting a button back onto a shirt.”
I grimaced as he handed me a curved needle that looked like something out of a horror movie and some kind of shiny thread.
“You skipped the hospital because of your vanity? Give me a break, Nassir.”
He moved to sit down on the toilet in front of me and bent his head down so I could see the three-inch gash that still looked really bloody and raw on the top of his head.
“I didn’t go to the doctor because it’s something I can take care of myself. I don’t like other people’s hands in anything I can take care of on my own.”
“Not people, you stubborn man. A trained professional. You are taking being a control freak to an entirely new level. Do you have something to numb this up with or anything?”
He handed over a pair of latex gloves and put his elbows on his knees as he hunched over. “No. Just get it over with.” He looked up at me from under his heavy brows and told me, “I never had control before I took it for myself. I almost died to get it, so now I’m protective about keeping it. Just like I never had a real reason to fight for something until you. I wanted you to stay innocent forever even though I knew you couldn’t.”
I bit my lip so hard that I thought I might break the skin. I threaded the needle and held it in my hand and just stared at the top of his head for another few minutes. I saw his shoulders rise and fall as he waited impatiently for me to begin.
“I need you to help me out here, Key. You know how hard it is for me to ask anyone for help?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” I really didn’t, but I couldn’t deny his request for help either.
“You’re here. I’m here. I’m going to take you to bed as soon as you get me all put back together. I’m feeling no pain.”
I laughed a little and stepped between his knees and rested a hand on his silky hair. “You’re a liar.”
“I am . . . doesn’t change the fact I’m feeling pretty good right nowww—” He broke off and hissed out the last of the word as I jabbed the end of the needle into one side of the slice and out the other. “Holy fuck, that burns.” The sound the needle made sliding through his skin had my stomach tightening up and my hands shaking.
I didn’t reply. I was using every ounce of concentration I had to put in a row of tiny, precise little black stitches. It was hard to see since the thread was the same color as his hair, but I somehow managed, and in just a few minutes th
“Done!” I snapped the gloves off and set the needle and thread down next to the sink. I squealed as his hands were suddenly under the bottom of the robe and skimming up the back of my legs.
“Thank you.” His face moved forward and his lips hit me in the center of the chest where the robe draped open. His hands squeezed the globes of my ass and his tongue darted out to lick over the smooth surface of my bullet wound. “My head hurts.” His voice was thin and strained. I rubbed my fingers under his wet hair at the base of his neck. He moved his face and used the tip of his nose to push the heavy fabric covering my breasts up out of his way. My spine went rigid when my nipple was suddenly sucked into the heat of his mouth.
“Nassir?” It was part question and part plea. I knew once his hands were on me there would never be a way I could live without his touch. It felt like he was creating something on my skin with every brush of his fingers and press of his damp mouth to my skin.
“I have to touch you, Key. I have to have you. Everything went black when I was hanging there trapped and the world was the wrong way around, and all I could think was ‘I can’t fucking die without touching her, without knowing how she feels.’ All the horrible shit I’ve seen and done, and that would be my single regret.”
He pulled on the belt of the robe and the heavy material fell away, leaving the front of me bared to his melted amber gaze. He sucked in an audible breath and pain flashed across his face, but only for a second because he moved to kiss me on the center of my chest then used his tongue to trail a damp path to my other nipple. Once he reached it, his teeth scraped across the pebbled tip and my eyes crossed.
“You can have me, but why don’t we wait until you aren’t hurting?”
He sighed jaggedly against the skin he’d left damp and aroused. “I’ve spent my entire life hurting. Hearing you say I can have you, that you are mine, is the first time that hurt has stopped. You have no idea the battles I’ve fought to be here waiting for you to be ready for me, Keelyn. The only thing that would keep me from you now is the end.”