Page 35 of Wicked Scorn
I pull up to the house, tires crunching on the gravel driveway. The engine’s barely off before I’m swinging myself off the bike.
Penn’s waiting for me on the porch, flipping his lighter open and closed, his expression wary. “She’s still here,” he says, answering my unspoken question. “Hasn’t tried to leave.”
I nod, brushing past him into the house. “Then I guess you did your job.”
He rolls his eyes. “You got it, boss.”
I ignore the sarcasm in his voice, throwing over my shoulder, “Don’t start any fucking fires tonight. I’m tired,” before taking the stairs two at a time. I just need to lay eyes on her, make sure she’s actually still here.
I quietly open my bedroom door and there she is, curled up in the middle of my bed, under my blankets.
Exactly where she fucking belongs.
Chapter 13
Oakley
Adim glow sneaks through the curtains, casting shadows along the walls of the large bedroom. I blink, trying to shake off the fog of sleep that clings to my mind. Where am I?
I turn my head, and everything comes flooding back. Jeremiah Blackwood, asleep beside me. His freshly showered skin glistens in the faint light, dark eyelashes resting against his cheeks as he breathes deeply. His hair is so short, basically buzzed completely off, and I miss the little curls that would hang over his forehead when we were kids. A pang of longing surges through me as I realize that I fell asleep on his bed in his t-shirt and now his scent is fused to my skin. I must have kicked my leggings off at some point because I’m currently swaddled in the soft, worn fabric with only my panties underneath. Glancing around and off the side of the bed, I see the gray fabric bunched up on the floor near the foot of the bed.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, my heart hammering in my chest. I try to slip out of bed quietly, but Jeremiah stirs, his strong arms wrapping around me and pulling me back intothe warmth of the blankets. I need to get out of here because I can tell I’m not strong enough. It would not take much for me to fall back into his arms and let him hurt me all over again.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he murmurs, his voice low but determined. His green eyes lock onto mine, holding me captive.
“Jeremiah, I...you need to let me leave. If you want to follow me around campus and act like a caveman, fine. But I can’t sleep in your bed and cuddle with you like everything is fine,” I admit, my voice wavering. The vulnerability in my word’s surprises even me.
“Oakley,” he says softly, his grip tightening around me. “I promise I’ll make things right. I’ll protect you. It’s early. Come here.” Jeremiah’s hand slides down my back and over my ass in a maneuver that he’s never done before in all the nights I spent in his bed as a lovesick girl. I expect him to shift again to my back, but instead, he grips my ass cheek hard enough to make me gasp as he pulls me into the heat of his naked chest and abdomen. His fingers only move to grip my leg, forcing me to wrap my leg over his hip. “Get some rest,” he groans, pressing his face into the side of my neck, seemingly breathing my scent in.
A shiver runs down my spine as his breath ghosts over my neck. There’s something thrilling about his possessiveness, about the promise of being cared for so fiercely. But at the same time, a nagging voice in the back of my head whispers doubts and fears. The dichotomy isn’t lost on me. It’s always going to be two vastly different sides of a coin.
“Who will protect me from you?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. The weight of everything that’s happened—my assault, Jeremiah’s disappearance, the tumultuous emotions between us—feels overwhelming.
“No one,” he snaps, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down my spine. “No one will ever come between us again, bunny.”
I start to shove him away, but he rolls us over, pinning me beneath him and for the first time I feel for myself that the jokes about how big Jeremiah must be everywhere aren’t actually a joke. He’s thick, hard and hot, pressing against my hip. It would barely take a twist of my body for him to be pressing between my thighs instead. God, is this how other girls feel? Is this how it’s supposed to feel?
“Oakley,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice thick with desire. “Let me show you how much I care. Let me prove to you that this is real.”
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes and it’s not because I’m afraid of him or the intimacy he’s sprung on me. It’s because he’s the only one I’m not afraid of touching me, and he’s probably the most dangerous to my mind and heart. I blink, trying to hold them back, but they spill over, streaming down my cheeks like raindrops on a windowpane.
“Jeremiah,” I whisper, my voice cracking with emotion. “You left me. You just…vanished without a word. I thought…I can’t go through that again. It almost killed me. I don’t know why you won’t hear me when I keep saying it.”
He remains silent, his grip on me unwavering. The room feels heavy, suffocating, and yet I can’t bring myself to break free from him. My heart pounds in my chest, fear gripping me like a vise—fear of abandonment, of losing him again.
“Bunny,” he says, his voice barely audible above the sound of my ragged breaths. “I don’t ever want you to feel that way again. I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Please,” I choke out, clinging to my independence like alifeline. “I can handle things on my own. I don’t need you to protect me.”
His grip tightens around me, and I feel the resolve in his touch. “You’ll stay at the Blackwood house with me now. You can take as much or as little time as you like to process that, but nothing you say or do will change it.”
My mind races, torn between the desire for safety and the fierce need for self-reliance that has fueled me for so long. But as Jeremiah’s words sink in, a flicker of hope ignites within me, illuminating the darkness that has burdened my heart.
I decide I need some space to think about everything, and there’s only one way to do that. “I’m going to be late for class.”
Jeremiah groans in annoyance, but ultimately lifts his weight off of me. “You won’t be late. I’ll take you.” He leans down, kissing me quickly on the forehead and then on the nose. “But if you think I’ll forget about what I said about you living here, you’re in for a surprise, bunny.”
The moment Jeremiah’s bike roars to life, I can’t help but feel a sudden surge of excitement mingling with the lingering apprehension in my chest. Clinging onto him as we speed through the crisp morning air, I’m torn between wanting to pull myself closer and craving the independence that has been stripped away from me.
