Page 27 of Unlocked

“How do you like your eggs?” Bo asks, seeming to pretend the last few minutes didn’t exist. I stare at his back, attempting to formulate an answer that doesn’t include him making passionate love to me. When I don’t answer, his shoulders sag like the weight of the world is on them. He glances at me over his shoulder, not making eye contact, at first. I continue to remain silent. I’m afraid of what will come out of my mouth if I open it. It certainly won’t be about how I like my eggs.

Bo turns to fully face me slowly bringing his eyes up to meet mine. I’m shocked to see wariness in his eyes, almost as if he’s afraid of my reaction to him. He swallows and pinches his lips into a tight line. “Are you giving me the silent treatment, now?” He raises one brow questioningly. I shake my head. “Shelby,” Bo nearly growls as he says my name.

“Why did you do that?” I manage to ask. He frowns briefly.

“Do what? Cook you breakfast?” I sigh heavily. He’s going to make me say it. Out loud.Ugh!

“Why did you kiss me?” I swallow nervously once the question leaves my lips. His gaze is so intense I need to look away. I drop my eyes to the pan on the stove just behind him. He turns to slide the skillet from the eye, again, before stalking back over to me. He takes my chin in his large hand tilting my face up to meet his gaze. My breath freezes in my chest at the intense look on his face.

“I kissed you because I couldn’t resist another second.” Bo’s deep voice vibrates through me. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I first laid eyes on you, Shelby Brooks. Yet you’ve denied me at every turn. I almost lost you without ever knowing what you taste like. I told myself if I got you back I wouldn’t waste another second. I saw an opportunity, and I took what I wanted.” We stare into one another’s eyes, seeming to battle for control.

“Breathe Shelby.” I blink and suck in a breath, shuddering from head to toe as his touch consumes me. “I won’t apologize, though perhaps you might think I should. I don’t regret it, and I have every intention of doing it again.” I can’t respond with words. They’re stuck in my throat, so I just give him a single nod. He releases me and moves back to the stove. “Scrambled it is.”

“Where are we?” I ask. Curiosity finally winning out over my fear and irritation. Bo glances at me over his shoulder again.

“My place,” he replies without elaboration. I pout, crossing my arms over my chest in annoyance. I watch him preparing the food, stewing in my exasperation. I contemplate demanding he tell me where we are, but after everything I’ve been through, I decide I should be thankful to be alive, to be glad he is taking care of me instead of demanding answers from him.

Minutes later, Bo has placed plates of bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast on the counter. “Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask, suddenly feeling guilty for letting him do all the work. He shakes his head as he places an empty plate and silverware in front of me. I perch on a bar stool across from him. He sets himself a place setting as well before settling on the stool across from me.

“Eat,” he commands when I don’t move to fill my plate. I want to be pissed at his high-handedness, but I’ve decided to play nice and be appreciative for his kindness. So, I begin to take a little of each thing he’s cooked and place it on my plate. The toast is not like any I’ve had before. The flavor is good, but the texture is off. I’m about to ask him what kind of bread it is, when he jumps up suddenly moving to the other side of kitchen, pulling cups from a cabinet. He returns shortly placing a steaming cup of coffee in front me. I look up to meet his gaze, and I smile at his thoughtfulness.

“Thank you,” I murmur. He nods.

“It’s black,” he informs me. “I know you’ll want to doctor it up.” He has a cup for himself, too. He takes a sip of the hot brew and continues to stare at me.

“Uh, yeah, I usually put flavored creamer and sugar-free sweetener in mine,” I reply, shyly, “but I can make do with this.” I feel a little uncomfortable talking to Bo, which is ridiculous after he has slept naked next to me, more than once, and has kissed me so passionately. I can feel my face heating with embarrassment. He nods and turns to the refrigerator. Opening the door, he pulls out a bottle of the creamer I’d used at Marley’s, placing it in front of me before reaching for a cabinet door pulling out three different boxes of sugar-free sweeteners. I can’t keep from chuckling as he places them in front of me. “What? Did you do buy out the whole aisle?” Bo gives me a sly grin.

“Something like that.” He grins again before taking his seat. “I didn’t know if what Marley had was what you liked or if you were just making do,” he says before he begins to fill his plate with a mountain of food. He digs in eating like he’s starved. I watch in fascination.How can anyone as fit as he is eat that much?He looks up after a bit. He pulls a napkin from the holder on the counter, wiping his mouth before speaking. “Why aren’t you eating? Don’t you like bacon and eggs?”

“Yeah, I do,” I say, taking a bite of my bacon. I’ve eaten a few bites of my eggs, about half a slice of the strange toast, and a strip of bacon. I chew quickly and swallow before continuing, “I’m eating.” I hold up my bacon as evidence. He shakes his head as he plops the napkin down on the counter.

“You’re eating like a bird,” Bo scolds, placing another scoop of eggs on my plate. He grabs more bacon, but I pull my plate away before he can place it on there. He frowns. “Shelby,” Bo says, again, with the scolding tone.

“Bo,” I snark back, dragging out his name. “I’m not a child. If I want more to eat, I’ll get it myself.” The man is beginning to piss me off, so I forget my shyness, growing bolder as I speak.

“You haven’t eaten properly in days. I’m sure those assholes didn’t provide you with adequate nutrition,” Bo grumbles. His words bringing a memory to the forefront of my mind.

My stomach growls loudly in the dark. I can’t remember when I ate last. The men are here again. They are dragging Marley into the room, demanding she answer their questions. She repeats the same line she’s given them from the beginning, “I don’t know anything about this!” The leader seems enraged more than usual. He punches me at her answer. She continues to plead with them to leave me alone, but the leader only inflicts more pain on me to hurt her.

Another punch to my face causes a flash of brilliant light before darkness descends. I wake sometime later but still can’t see a thing. I can sense someone beside me, but I’m afraid to move. I don’t want my abuser to know I’m awake. I can’t bear more pain, right now. The body next to me shifts and places a hand on my arm. I jerk away from the touch.

“Shelby?” Marley whispers. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you. I’m sorry you got caught up in this nightmare with me. This is all my fault.” I don’t reply. My face too swollen and painful for speech. I don’t understand how this is her fault. She hasn’t done anything to be kidnapped and abused. It wasn’t her fault I happened to be with her when they came for her. At least I’ve taken the brunt of the abuse after the first few hours. Even though it’s been years since my last beating by my father, the old methods of dealing with it until it’s over kicked in the moment they began to hit me. Marley isn’t used to abuse. At least I can handle it for the most part. I’ve learned to shut down, go on auto pilot until it is over.

“Shelby?” Bo’s voice right next to me pulls me from the memory. “Hey, sweet girl?” Blinking away the darkness of the cell where we were held, I turn toward his voice, not even realizing I’m shaking my head. I try to focus on him. My breaths are short and fast, and I will myself to calm down. It’s over. I’m here with Bo not in the dark basement of my past or the cell where Marley and I were held. “I’m so sorry. I’m such a fucking idiot!”—he swipes his hand through his hair—“I didn’t mean to say something to upset you and bring back painful memories.” Bo pulls me into his arms, cradling me to his broad chest. His hand holds my head to him as if he’s afraid I’m going to disappear.

I relax into his hold, soaking up the strength and safety he provides. I shouldn’t let him hold me, but I’m not capable of being strong right now. For just a little while, I’m going to let him hold me up. I melt into him, feeling him relax as he kisses the side of my head. I breathe in his masculine scent. Instead of making me nervous or afraid like it has before, it calms and settles me. I know while he holds me I don’t have to fear being hit, humiliated, or abused. I’m sheltered in his arms. Safe. Something I have rarely felt in my thirty years on this earth. “I’ve got you, sweet girl,” Bo murmurs. “I’ve got you.”Yes, yes, he does.So I hold on tightly, never wanting him to let me go.

Chapter 16

Bo

My sweet girl holding on to me feels so damn good. It settles the fear and restlessness that has been ruling me since the night she had been taken. I hate that I had been so callous in my words to her. I’d never intended to cause her to have a flashback, but I’m certain that’s what just happened. Her eyes went distant. Her body tensed as her breathing picked up. The pulse in her neck beating rapidly. I haven’t gotten brave enough to ask her what happened to her and Marley while they were being held. Just seeing the evidence that she had been beaten has me raging. I’m not sure I can contain my anger if I hear the details of her abuse, especially if they touched her.

I should have made her go to the hospital, but the fear in her eyes at the mention of the hospital weakened my resolve. I hated seeing her fear. I just wanted to make it go away. When I pitched my keys to Rosco and lifted her from the stretcher, she had relaxed completely into me. She had known I was taking her away from there. Her trust in me completes something that I didn’t even realize I was missing until she turned to me for comfort when I got to her under the boardwalk.

“Please, eat a little more, for me?” I ask, softly. I can practically hear her eyes rolling at my request. She lifts her head to look up at me, her blue eyes full of an emotion I can’t read. I wait for her to say something, but the seconds drag on. “What are you thinking, sweet girl?” She gets a soft smile on her face before answering.

“Just wondering how this is happening,” she answers with surprising ease, easing away from me a little but not completely. It seems from the beginning I’ve had to drag answers out of her, but she is willingly answering this one. “I…I’m still trying to process everything that’s happened. The kidnapping, the men wanting answers that Marley didn’t have, to nearly being blown to bits by a bomb.” Her casual, calm demeanor shocks me. She gives a humorless laugh. “But the hardest part to take is you.” I raise my eyebrows at that.

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