Page 24 of His Rough Side
A little at a time.
"Last week when I showed up at your house and you took care of my face, I'd come from boxing." He rubbed his cheek against her hair. "There's this place where I grew up that caters to street kids and adults. There's always someone willing to step onto the mat and take punches. I went there."
Her head came up, and she looked at him. "Did you lose?"
He stared into the room, not seeing anything specific. "No. I didn't lose."
She stiffened. "God, what did the other person look like?"
"Broken nose. A couple of broken ribs," he said. "That's what you need to know about me. I'm capable of hurting others and not feeling a pang of remorse. My desire to hurt others never goes away, but I manage it. I have control of myself. I would never hurt you."
"You're warning me," she whispered.
He nodded without saying anything more. The truth was right in front of her, she'd learn how to deal with him. To accept him. If she was strong enough to admit to herself that she needed him, including the darkness that resided in him.
Chapter Nine
The only thing keepingher from walking out of the room was Serge's hands on her body. Aubrey's heart raced, and she wondered if she tried to get off him, if he'd let her go. After hearing he enjoyed hurting others, she was afraid to try her luck.
Instead, she hid her reaction and played it cool. "May I stand up?"
"Normally, I'd let you do anything when you ask me in that soft voice I like listening to, but right now I want you to stay on my lap and talk with me," he said. "I can tell you're worried. There's no reason to be scared of me. All we're doing is sitting and talking, that's it."
"That's not what I thought we were going to do when you told me to come home with you." She folded her hands in her lap. "I thought this was about sex, and we've done that before, and I handled that fine. I don't know what you're planning to do now, or why you had to tell me that you enjoy hurting people. You're starting to freak me out a little, not in a good way. If you had told me you like to box a few rounds every now and then, that's one thing, but you're talking about beating the shit out of someone because it's fun and—"
"Not fun. Necessarily," he said.
She scoffed. "Sorry, but I don't understand where you're going with this conversation. Only murderers and...and serial killers enjoy hurting others."
"Undoubtedly," he muttered.
"Can you explain why you're different?" She clamped her lips shut. Scared in case he confessed to murder, and curious enough, she shut up. None of her Google searches taught her about this new side to him.
Every news article she found, she'd read over and over, paying attention to every word, trying to get to know him better. There was never any inclination or rumors that he was violent.
A loner. Yes.
