To survive it himself, he’d rebuilt who he was from the ground up, locking away the person he’d once been. The other night had proven that wasn’t the best strategy. In fact, Marcie’s words felt like that cell was being unlocked, that she was standing there in its doorway, impossibly vulnerable yet completely unafraid of the monster within. Sunlight was streaming in behind her, inviting the beast out into the light.
It was Beauty and the Beast, when all was said and done. Because in the end, the Beast was willing to do anything to deserve her love.
“First off, you have never, will never, let me down. All you have to be is yourself.” As her eyes filled with more tears, he squatted down, closed his arms around her, buried his face in her hair. “You asked if there’s a chance I’ll ever be in love with you. I already am.” His throat closed up as a sob broke from hers, so strong it shook her narrow shoulders. “I’m crazy fucking in love with you, Marcella Moira. God help you. And I’m so, so sorry for every awful, cruel thing I’ve done to you.”
Her arms wormed out from beneath his, locked around his shoulders, hands gripping his shirt as tight as they could. She made an incoherent sound of joy and sorrow at once, and he pressed his face harder into her hair. A chuckle strangled out of him as she spoke against his shoulder.
“You don’t have to be sorry for every awful cruel thing.”
“Sweet brat. Brave girl.”
Her fingers convulsed on him with every word, and he held her, let her cry, murmuring to her as she got it all out. He wished he could have held her when she first learned about Jeremy. He wished he could have been with her when she had that nightmare, soothed it away. But he’d make sure he was there to drive away any others she had. And he damn sure wouldn’t cause any more of them. When she started to slow down a bit, he fished out another handkerchief, glad he’d brought a spare for today’s emotional event. After she dried her eyes, he let her keep it.
“All right. Now I want you to stand.”
He helped her, because she was a little shaky, and got even more so when he stayed on one knee, looking up at her. He put his hand against her face. “What happened in the parking lot at Surreal won’t ever happen again.”
She started to shake her head, but he wouldn’t let himself off the hook for it. “It was inexcusable. If you want me as your Master, then you accept and understand that the guilt and blame for that night lies entirely with me.”
She looked away, tears gathering once more, though she tried to wipe them away with the handkerchief she held in her free hand. She sniffed. “Dana said if you were really sorry, you’d let them tie you up naked, rub you down with kerosene and zap you with a Taser.”
“Sorry doesn’t mean I’ve taken leave of my fucking senses. Especially when it comes to Reverend Dana. She’s about as bad as you are for taking advantage.”
She cocked her head. That guarded look was still there, but it had lessened by a significant degree. He’d win her trust back. She was going to give him the chance to do so, thank God. He hadn’t completely fucked it up.
“Cass said you’d owe me until the day you die, but that you’d made amends with Matt and the others. Something about restoring you to rights with the code of chivalry.” Her silken brow rose, a small smile playing around her soft lips. “What did they make you do?”
He sighed, looked away. “Not going to tell you.”
“Yes, you are.” Her slim fingers crept under his jaw, teased his face back toward her. “You find me irresistible. You just told me so.”
“I said I love you,” he said sternly. “That’s very different.”
“No. It’s not.” She dimpled, and of course he couldn’t resist her. Besides which, she’d worry it out of him like a terrier digging a rat out of a hole. Jesus, she was going to be so such a pain in his ass. He’d probably lose all his hair before he hit forty. “Tell me.”
“Nope.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Please? Pretty please?” She batted her eyes at him.
He chuckled. “Do that again and I’ll smack your ass, right here in front of the fish.”
Of course she batted her eyes again, then shrieked as he rose and tossed her over his shoulder, giving her a resounding slap on her soft buttock. He had to resist the urge to take hold of it, squeeze and enjoy the pleasure of touching what was his. She braced herself with hands curled in his shirt, docile in his hold, conveying that she would give him anything he wanted. It was an effort to put her back on her feet, even more so when her hands remained fastened to him, her body leaning against his. He could tell she was still waiting for an answer. Tenacious female. He relented.
“I’m not allowed to drink for a year.”
Her eyes softened, her mouth getting serious, but he didn’t want to take her there. So he gave her the other part of it. The really painful part. “And I gave away my car.”
“What?” Those eyes widened to saucer shape. “The Mercedes? Your half-a-million-dollar sports car? The high-performance engineering piece of art?”
“Yeah. Thanks for reminding me. I donated it to the upcoming auction for the new domestic-violence shelter.”
Marcie’s gaze darkened then, and her hands cupped his face. “Ben, you didn’t…even that night, when you were so angry…I knew you weren’t going to hurt me.”
“Marcie.” He touched her lower lip. Though faint, the mark was still there where she’d hit the car. “I did hurt you. I laid hands on you in anger. That’s the one thing a Master never does to his
