Rock Me Slower (Licks of Leather #3) - Jenna Jacob Page 0,47
I were the last cunt on the planet. He said I was too headstrong…that I was already a diva and wouldn’t appreciate the sacrifices he’d have to endure to make me a star. Carl said he’d be doing the industry a favor if he just slit my vocal cords and ended it all now.”
Oh, this mother fucker is going to die a slow and painful death.
“I knew then he was going to kill me. But he didn’t. He gathered up the pictures and put them in a safe in his wall, then shoved my clothes across the desk. He said if I went to the police, he’d release the photos to the press and sit back and laugh. Then he’d sneak into my room one night, kill me, and bury me in a shallow grave, out here in the desert.”
Shaking like a leaf, Mia closed her eyes and lowered her chin.
Rage and heartache swirled like a cyclone through me, cutting a path through my heart and leaving a mile-wide debris field. I leaned over, lifted her out of the seat, and nestled her on my lap. Cupping the back of her head, I gently guided her cheek to my chest and silently held her as I wiped my own tears away.
I didn’t care if I spent the rest of my life in prison. I would avenge Mia’s honor, dignity, and pride and kill that motherfucker…kill him with my bare hands.
“You tried to tell me…tried to warn me—”
“Don’t,” I whispered, reaching for the blanket and tucking it around her trembling body. I pressed a kiss to her crown and exhaled a heavy sigh. “We can’t go back; we can only go forward.”
“You said you didn’t hate me, just hated the decisions I made. I hate them, too. I wish I’d never—”
“Stop. We can’t spend the rest of our lives beating ourselves up for what we did or didn’t do. I don’t hate you, Mia. I never did. I never will. I’m just sor—”
“No,” she said sternly. Easing back, Mia shook her head. “I don’t want your pity, Oz. I don’t want anyone’s pity.”
“Fair enough, but Carl’s not getting away with what he did to you. I’ll hunt him—”
“No, you won’t. Get that shit out of your head right now,” she snapped. “Seven years ago, if he’d put those photos out, I would have been humiliated. If he decided to put them out now, my whole career would be ruined. You said you don’t hate me. If that’s true, you’ll keep what I just told you between us and let it go.” No way in hell. “I have.”
I arched a brow. “Have you?”
“I might have to sleep with a nightlight, but yes. Even my therapist agrees that I’ve adjusted remarkably well.” She wiggled off my lap and scooted onto the passenger seat, then rolled up the window. “Now you know all my dark, ugly secrets, will you please find us someplace to get coffee?”
Unsure if she’d reclaimed her spunk or was simply donning a brave mask, I shifted the truck into drive and pulled onto the highway.
“So, what did your therapist say about me?”
“At first she thought you were an asshole.”
“That’s nothing new.”
“Please. You’re not an asshole.”
“You convinced her?”
“Didn’t have to. The more she started digging in my psyche, you won her over, and I became the idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
“Not anymore. But I definitely was back then.”
“If it’s any consolation…we both were.”
“Yeah,” Mia murmured, then turned and peered out the window.
Her sudden retreat bothered me, but I gave her some space to struggle and sort her demons for several silent miles. I let her chew on the past another minute longer, then redirected her focus.
“So, you’re putting your Grammy’s on your mantel, huh?”
She nodded.
Oh, you’re not escaping me that easily, sweetheart.
“Are you seeing someone…on the side, like Nigel did?”
She turned and gaped at me with a patented expression that screamed, you’re shitting me, right? “Uh, no. Are you involved with someone you’re hiding from the press?”
“No.”
“What happened to the pretty blonde Olympic gymnast you were with a few months ago?”
“Greta?”
“How many blonde Olympic gymnasts have you dated?”
“None. Greta and I were never…she’s a vagatarian.”
“A what?”
“A vagatarian. Greta and her husband, Annette don’t eat”—I glanced at my crotch—"man meat.”
“Ahh. At least you three had something in common,” Mia scoffed. “Kind of surprising to know there’s actually two women on the planet who’ve never had their mouths on your man meat.”