Page 31 of Irrevocably Mine

Hank allowed her bathroom privileges. Of course, she needed an escort to even make it there. Luckily for her, the thought of her period grossed him out to the point he left her in the bathroom to take care of business.

Stacy wasn’t sure what time or even day it was. Passage of time wasn’t marked by a clock but by bathroom visits and pills being shoved down her throat. It had been three and three.

Every time she felt like she was getting a handle on time and her surroundings, another pill followed, except this time. Stacy floated up from the drug-induced bog that enveloped her and started to make sense of things around her. Her inner turmoil with Dax came creeping into her consciousness. Her phone was with John. No court for three days. No one would miss her. That terrifying thought also brought a touch of peace. At least Hank can’t hurt someone else. Everyone she cared about would be safe. And, if she could convince Hank to stop drugging her, she might think of a way out of this.

Hank’s hand, the one with the gun, was inching up her thigh, adding a more disturbing vibe to the thought of being raped.Think Stacy, think. What is the best move here?Pretending to be groggier than she actually was, Stacy slightly slurred, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

The gun slowed, but Hank leaned in close, biting her ear before he rasped, “I know you’re not on your cycle, at least not anymore, because I saw the empty trash when I took a piss today. Must’ve been at the end already when I got here. So, it’s not urgent then, is it?” He ground his teeth into her lobe until he drew blood.

“If you don’t consider lying here in a growing puddle of urine urgent, then no, I guess not. You do realize that women have other functions besides bleeding and fucking, yeah?” She knew the minute she spoke, she should’ve reined it back, but it was getting harder and harder to play this game. Pretty soon, she was going to have to cross a line if she didn’t find a better way to handle the current situation, and the new Hank—one she couldn’t seem to get a solid read on. Dealing with him was like dealing with three or four different people, and she didn’t know which until she pushed the right button.

Time to try a different tactic.Hank always underestimated her intelligence, even thought she slept her way through law school. It used to piss her off, but the truth was, she let him believe that of her, even played into it. Hank had that effect on her then, so now, she would use it. “Sorry, you know meds make me cranky. And hungry. How about I go to the bathroom and get cleaned up and then make us something to eat. We can eat in the living room and watch a movie. You still a big Nick Cage fan? I’ve got almost every movie he ever made.” She knew Hank would like to think she was pining for him all this time, so she added sheepishly, “Still.”

Jackpot. Hank went all gooey-eyed and dropped his guard for a moment. Now, all she had to do was parlay that into more moments with his guard down until he dropped it completely and she could figure a way to exploit that advantage.Moment number one.

The kiss was unexpected. She didn’t participate, but she didn’t fight either.Forgive me, Dax,she prayed silently while Hank assaulted her mouth. She kept up the pretense of being further under the influence of the drugs.

“I knew you still loved old Hank. Food sounds good, you’ll need the energy for dessert.” Hank waggled his eyebrows in a way that she used to love, but now, just turned her stomach.And, I just threw up in my mouth a little.“But, you’re not changing clothes. I remember how fast you are on your feet, and you said the heels slow you down. Besides,” Hanks hand traced all the way from her thigh to the heel, “I can’t wait to feel these digging into my ass while I pound my cock into your pussy, proving to you who owns it.”

And, I just threw up in my mouth again.My breath will be fabulous at this rate, but hey, at least Hank is the person who has to smell it.Stacy got up and made her way to the bathroom. After emptying her bladder, she splashed water on her face and tried to think. Hank burst in and took a piss right there in front of her—not a care in the world.

“Ahhh.” He groaned as he pissed. “You know what, babe? I could go for pancakes and sausage. You got the stuff to make ‘em?”

No, I draw the line at breakfast at this time of day. Not for Hank.She would flirt and she may even have to use her body, but no, never that. Her body was just that, a body. If it came down to it, she would and could do what she needed to, in order to survive, but she couldn’t degrade love like that.

Stacy needed a mental escape, so she thought of how much she loved Dax.She knew she was grinning like an idiot, and Hank just confirmed it.

“What’s put a smile like that on your pretty face?” Hank asked as he tucked himself away. Not bothering to flush or wash his hands, he approached her, leaving the gun on the toilet tank.Moment number two.Hank gently cupped her cheeks, but as he spoke, he let one hand go exploring south. “Are you grinning at the thought of having this big ole dick deep inside you once again?” By now, his Magellan hand was plumping, squeezing, and pinching her good tit. Of course, Hank wouldn’t dare touch her tainted side except to make a point. She noticed how he still seemed to avert his eyes and not even look at it.

Stacy bit her lip to keep from crying out. Not in ecstasy, as Hank obviously thought, but from the roughness with which he handled her sensitive flesh. All the while, the hand at her cheek remained loose and gentle.Wow, talk about split personalities. It was like the hands belonged to two different men.

“Yeah, baby, you like that shit, dontcha? You always did. How I wish I could throw you down and just bust a nut right now, but I’m starving. So, haul your ass in there and make me supper.” He released her cheek and slapped her ass.There is the Hank I expected. As much as she hated this whole fucking situation, at least now both his hands were on the same page. Stacy hated contradictions.

“Sure thing,” Stacy purred enthusiastically. “I don’t have the fixings for a big breakfast, but I can do a cheeseburger and fries or meatloaf and mashed potatoes?” She hoped he picked the latter. It was more time-consuming and the more time she had to get the drug out of her system, the better.

“Okay, babe. Meatloaf it is.”Yessssss.“And I say we watch Con Air, then Face Off?”Predictable as ever.Now, she just needed to walk around him and pass the toilet first, grab the gun, and drill a hole right between his eyes and this would be over.

Instead, Hank tucked her to his side, opposite of the toilet, and snatched the gun on the way out of the bathroom.Damn it.

Once she’d cut up what she needed for dinner, Hank collected the knives and sharp objects and then tossed them into the footstool storage from the living room. He then moved it to the guest room, put it in the closet and then locked the room, making it difficult to get to them before he could get to her.Double damn. Hank slid the TV around and angled the couch, so he could watch both Nick and her at the same time.Great.

Dinner was awkward, to say the least. A good home-cooked meal on the couch and watchingFace Offwith a sociopath. Like eating with Castor Troy himself. It was a little surreal how she was seeing Hank in a new light thanks to a fucking movie.

Hank pulled her in close, reminding her of the way he used to in the beginning of their relationship. The difference was motive. Not the existence of one, as he had one the first time too, but rather awareness of it on her part.

The food seemed to help with the haze. It could’ve just been the time, but either way, she was grateful. That is, until the doorbell rang. Her heart sank. It could be anyone, anyone she cared about. But somewhere deep in her soul, she knew who it was by the knock that followed, and the flutter in her heart. Somehow, she just knew. She also knew Hank would kill him if he even suspected they had sex or that she cared for him.Loved him. Stacy tried to bolt for the door, but Hank gripped her so tightly, she yelped.

Hank covered her mouth with a rough touch and got down in her face. It was then she saw that the crazy was back, large and in charge. “Don’t even think about it. Whoever’s at the door, I’ll drop ‘em if you don’t play along and they don’t leave. Pronto. Got it? So, if you give a shit about them at all, you’ll be convincing. I don’t care if it’s the mailman or your best friend. You’ve got thirty seconds or I aerate their brain.” Stacy was hoping if they just stayed still and quiet, whomever was at the door would go away, but no such luck. “Now, go answer the door like a good girl.”

Another slap to her ass as she made her way toward the door really firmed up that sense of hopelessness. Dax would not just leave, that wasn’t his way. She would have to say something so permanent, so definite, that it would not only break his heart, but hers as well.

Something devastating.

Stacy wasn’t prepared to look into his eyes when she cracked the door and leaned into the opening. He took her breath away. Big Dax was an appropriate name for him in more ways than just his cock. She catalogued every inch of him before she spoke. She had to, because in order to save his life, she had to kill his soul and she wouldn’t get another chance to commit him to memory.

Her eyes drifted from his warm brown hair that felt like silk in her hands, to his full, but slightly hidden, lips that wrung so much pleasure from her body. Then, they dropped to the beard they both loved to stroke and tug and his big barrel chest that looked like it could carry the weight tasked to Atlas. It was hard and soft at the same time. Then, there were the tattooed and ripped cuddle straps that did the job oh so well. Stacy giggled to herself at the term, she’d never heard it until he showed up at a Reid picnic wearing a tank-top, proclaiming his massive arms as such.

Those thighs though. She let her gaze drop to the sexiest quads she’d ever seen. Of course, they were encased in denim at present, but she could still see the bulges and valleys. And finally, her eyes fell to his feet, which were the size of Volkswagens, but still sexy as fuck when they were bare. Her imagination and memory were required now, as he had on work boots.

She took mental snapshots of it all before returning to his face and his eyes which were the darkest color she’d even seen without them being a true brown or black. There was an underlying color there. Sometimes, it looked hazel or green; sometimes, the darkest amber. Last time she stared into them, contemplating their color, she thought she’d have time to study his eyes and to identify all the facets, but she was wrong.

This may not be the last time she ever looked into them, but it would damn sure be the last time she looked into them filled with such love and devotion for her. The casual, “Hey,” she offered damn near lodged in her throat and choked the life from her. Turning her head just enough to peek back into the living room, she confirmed Hank had the gun trained to shoot right through the door and into Dax. That was all the motivation she needed to stay the course. Destroy to save. In her heart she was, and would always be, his.

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