Last Second Chance

Chapter Thirty-Five

He recognized her knock. The damn woman had come knocking enough times that he’d memorized it. Fuck.

The urge to get loaded and screw someone else had taunted him all night. He was fucking famous. It would take one phone call to get him out of here. But he’d stayed. Because leaving her even a second before he had to felt like a death sentence. The next time he got high would probably be the last.

“You really do enjoy pain and punishment, don’t you, sweetheart?” He forced a sneer onto his face as he opened the door.

“More than you know, Mr. Walker.” Her eyes held a challenge his dick rose to meet. Christ.

“That what you’re here for? Or did we skip an answer on my survey again?”

“No,” she began, stepping around him. “I’m here because I was at home last weekend, listening to my sordid life story being told to me by complete strangers. And the only person I wanted to be there was you.” She paused as if waiting for her words to sink in. “And because I wanted to thank you. For showing me how to feel.”

Her words, so much like his after his first ‘breakthrough,’ as Dr. McLendon called it, hit him directly in the heart. She’d needed him. For more than just screwing her senseless. Wanted him to be a part of her real life.

“You’re welcome,” was all he could manage to get out.

She sighed, meeting his eyes with remorse in hers. “And I’m sorry for what I said. I know you’re not here on vacation.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I was angry and I lashed out. I thought what we had was…more than it actually was. It h-hurt to find out that I was wrong—that it wasn’t the same for you. But that’s no excuse. And I hope you can forgive me.”

“Forgive you?” He’d pummeled her heart to hell and back on purpose and she was here to apologize to him? Her eyes were filling with tears that somehow had a direct effect on his ability to swallow. He couldn’t seem to locate the part of him that had been certain letting her go was the best plan.

“For saying something so hurtful. I never should’ve—” She sniffled, turning from him. He moved without meaning to, blocking her exit.

“I see. And what we had, what did you think it was, exactly?” He couldn’t help himself, the need to hear the words in her mouth—even if it ruined them both—was overpowering.

Her body—the body that he’d seen bare and on display for him—went rigid. Her eyes narrowed. “I was wrong, whatever I thought. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” he admitted.

Stella’s glistening green eyes met his. “You lied about the blonde.”

Van schooled his face to remain emotionless. “Did I?”

“I can tell by the way you’re looking at me. You don’t really want her. You never looked at her like you’re still looking at me.”

He forced a shrug. “So I lied. People are talking. Jesse told me his dad asked him to keep an eye on us.”

Stella’s eyes widened, but they still held the same determined stare. “So let them talk. If they’d caught us, I would’ve left. I needed you more than I needed this job.”

“No. Don’t. I don’t want that. I don’t want this.”

She winced. Lying to her tied him in knots and pulled them tight enough to snap. His resolve was already fraying at the edges.

“You’re afraid,” she whispered. “I see it now.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

She reached out and touched his face. His plan to push her away disintegrated at her touch. “Of caring. Of hurting. Of causing me pain.”

“Actually I thoroughly enjoy that last part.”

“It won’t work.” Her hands drifted down his body, sparks of desire flaring beneath his flesh everywhere she touched. The way she watched him—as if she were seeing him for the first time—stripped him bare.

“What won’t work?”

“Trying to keep me out. I’m in, Van. I’m all in. You’re it for me.”

“Don’t say that.” He yanked out of her grasp. “You can do so much better. Christ. Go find yourself a doctor or lawyer or some shit. That white knight’s out there somewhere, cowgirl. Hop on your horse and go get him.”

She shook her head, his words seemingly bouncing off her. “People lie, Van. They let you down, they disappear, and when fate decides to be exceptionally cruel, they die. But it’s the truths we hide when we’re alive that hurt us both the most. Don’t pretend you’re doing me a favor by pushing me away. You’re not.”

She reached for him again and he couldn’t make himself deny her. His head dipped to rest on hers.

“For so long, I’ve been so afraid. Maybe for my entire life. I’ve been afraid to feel—afraid to let people in where they can hurt me. But I can’t keep you out. You’re in, Van. And you can break, wreck, and ruin me. I’ll only beg for more.”

“I don’t want that,” he whispered. “I don’t want to hurt you like that. Jesus. I just want to—”

“Protect me?” Her imploring gaze met his once more. “Take care of me? Do what’s best for me? Even if it nearly destroys you in the process?”

He swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah.”

Her face broke into the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. On anyone. “That’s more than enough for me.” She threaded her fingers behind his neck.

“Dammit, woman.” He tried to back up, but her hands gripped him tightly. He wanted to grab her and shake her. His brand of love was not good enough for her. He couldn’t begin to imagine why she thought it was.

“Stop resisting me, Mr. Ransom. I’m not going anywhere.”

She fastened her mouth hotly to his, stealing his breath, imprinting her words onto his heart.

He felt it the moment it happened. A piece of her bright, shiny soul slipped away from her, lodging itself onto his black one. Purity among filth. Brilliant blinding light flared behind his eyes.

It was too much, too powerful.

He’d let go of some of his darkness to be worthy, but it would never be enough.

“I’m trying, Stella Jo. Swear to God, I’m trying to be better,” he whispered, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around her waist.

Her fingers grazed through his hair. “I know you are.” She dropped to her knees, meeting him. He knew she meant to console him, but it was as if he were already dragging her down with him. Literally.

“I can’t give you happily ever after. I don’t have that in me.” He was giving her an out, giving letting her go one more shot. But when she pulled his face to hers and kissed him eagerly—flicking her tongue against his lips like an addict needing a taste, he couldn’t even muster enough guilt to stop himself from kissing her back.

“You’re the first, Van. The first person who’s ever truly made me feel wanted. Needed. Whole. I want to show you something.”

She stood and he watched, awe-struck as she lifted her shirt over her head. Turning to the side, she revealed to him the words that left him speechless.

The poem, the one he’d recited to her in a moment of intimacy, was inked in beautiful script across her skin. It began beneath her right breast and covered most of her ribcage.

“It reminds me to be strong, like you,” she whispered.

His entire body vibrated with the steadfast determination of his heartbeat.

“I-I’m not strong. I’m weak. God, woman. You make me so damn weak.”

She smiled wickedly as she pulled him to his feet. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to be strong enough for both of us.”

“Any chance you’ll get my name on your ass now? Since you’ve already taken your ink virginity and all.”

Her lips curved into a smirk. “Perhaps. Soon as you get ‘Stella’s’ tattooed on yours.”

He stood and stared down at her. Her beautiful eyes pleaded up at him. The sensual mouth he loved more than words parted, opening for him, needing him. He might as well get it stamped on his fucking forehead. This woman owned him.

“Make love to me, Van. Tonight. All night. Please.”

“No need to beg, cowgirl. I’ve learned telling you no is a feat more challenging than I’m capable of.”

“No safe word,” Stella whispered. “No stopping.”

Lifting her, he carried her to his bed. Where they remained. The sun set at some point. And then it rose again.

They didn’t notice.