Page 100 of Lesson In Forgiveness

Of course she’d offer to murder the man who made a young girl’s life absolute misery, he thought with pride and exasperation. With a half laugh, he shook his head. “Well, then you understand that intimacy for her is difficult when one of her husbands is a sadist. They did a scene at Avalon to start the desensitization process, and as support, they drafted Thane as a chaperone.”

She didn’t break stride, didn’t falter an inch, but he felt her retreat. “I see.”

“Evander suggested that something similar might be worth trying in our situation. Not an active participant,” he assured her, “but a silent observer in the room to act as moral support.”

“For you or me?”

“Both if needed.” Honesty rang in his voice; he wasn’t ashamed to admit that sex might end up being a harrowing experience for them both. There was no way of knowing how she’d react when she felt a man inside her again, if she’d even realize it was him and not her father. There were too many unknowns, and she was a killing machine with a multitude of triggers. “I get that this might not be the right track for you—Dominic put you on display for his friends, fucked you for show, and I understand if this is a hard limit.”

Tabitha’s teeth gnawed on her lower lip. She wouldn’t look at him, just focused her gaze on the ground at her feet as she took each step. “It doesn’t bother me. I spent years being paraded around naked. Flesh is just flesh.”

He diverted her toward one of the smaller buildings. “That was then, little tiger. This is now. You have a choice; your voice matters.”

Now came the hesitation. As they approached the door of the medical play cabin, the same building where they’d had their first fight, her feet began to drag. He felt her body resist, leaning back slightly. “W-When are we meant to be testing this suggestion?”

“Soon, if you’re willing to try.” There was no need for a key this time; he simply took hold of the handle and swung the door open. “There’s no medical equipment in this building yet. The shipment was delayed by a few days.”

Breathing heavily, she eyed the threshold. “W-Who’s going to be the watcher?”

“That would be me.” A low, calm voice echoed down the hallway, followed by steady footfalls. From the shadows further in, Evander emerged like a Viking king. “Good to see you again, little hellcat.”

The pulse in her throat throbbed even though her expression went flat. “That went from suggestion to confirmed in short order.”

“I thought it might be easier for us to sit down with Evander and figure out if this could work. You have to be comfortable with him.”

Her chin jutted up. “It’s not like we haven’t done stuff in front of him before.”

A shudder tore through her, but she shook it off, straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders. Twisting her head from side to side as though limbering up for a fight, she tugged her hand free and moved forward with determination. “You want to put on a show, let’s get on with it.”

Grit’s eyebrows rose when she elbowed past Evander, leaving a swath of aggression on the air like ink in oil. “Well, fuck.”

Evander rubbed his thumb over his mouth. “Those mood swings are lethal.”

“Unfortunately, they’re not the only thing capable of killing me.”

A huge hand clapped down on his shoulder. “She likes you, she won’t kill you. Maim, maybe.”

“That’s so helpful, thanks. Here goes nothing,” he muttered, setting off after her and wondering if either of them would be whole when they came back out.

*

Tabitha

Anger fueled her as she bulled her way into the cabin. It was definitely different to the last time she’d been in here; the bare bones of construction she’d left behind were now fleshed out with board and plaster, the scent of fresh paint and varnish lingering in the warm rooms.

The hallway was decorated in a rich apricot color, adorned with framed pictures she was sure were pretty if her temper wasn’t blinding her. The skirting boards were white; the floorboards sanded and varnished so the wood grain popped beneath the golden brown stain.

She had a frustrating urge to slam her boot through the perfection and create an ugly hole to mirror the one inside her. Instead, she stomped her way to the end of the hallway, to the only door that was open.

Fear was a fist around her heart. Impetuousness brought her here, her pride and temper forcing her inside the cabin rather than breaking away and bolting as fast and as far in the opposite direction as her legs would carry her. Now she had to rely on both of those things getting her through this in one piece.

Angry sex probably wasn’t what Grit wanted, but by God, it was what he was going to get. Biting, clawing, bloody fucking that stopped her from thinking and feeling, because if she let her brain regain any sense of control, she was going to throw up.

Stepping through the door, shock punched her in the gut. He hadn’t lied when he told her there was no medical equipment—she didn’t think even her brand of recklessness would’ve overridden her self-preservation instincts on that score—but there was a rather large bed, neatly made with obviously new sheets and covers.

“Talk it through, my ass,” she ground out between her teeth. “He knew. He fucking knew. That’s okay, this is good. Get mad. Get mad, get mad, get mad.” Those two words began to swirl and gather momentum in her head as fear and fury went to war. “The bunny’s out of luck, gonna have to fuck. Today she’s not the only one who’s not a lucky duck.”

Blindly, she started to strip. The lightweight T-shirt she wore fluttered away, forgotten. Fighting with the stupid clasp of her bra, she tried to toe off her boots and almost fell flat on her face.

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