Page 81 of No Fear
Chapter Fifteen
Remy caught the woman he loved when she collapsed. Every single part of him recoiled at the sight of Rachel in pain. He ached to hold her, to soothe her, to tell her that everything was going to be okay. But at the moment, he wasn’t sure that was true and he didn’t want to lie to her. So instead of saying that, he simply answered her heartbreaking question.
“Because you’re beautiful baby, inside and out. You have such a sweet, gentle soul. Even after everything you’ve been through you don’t see the bad in people. You always see the good. You saw the good in me. You bring it out in me.” He shifted her against his chest, holding her close when she made no move to wrap her arms around him, “You make me a better man, Rachel. Being with you, it takes all the hate and anger those monsters put inside me and soothes it. I love you, baby.”
Rachel shook her head, her small body heaving under the weight of her heavy sobs, “Y-y-you s-s-shouldn’t.”
“Shhh…” He soothed softly as he carried her down the hallway to the small bathroom.
It had seemed to work the other times. When she’d been scared and hurting, he’d put her in a warm bath and it had helped calm her down. He didn’t even bother undressing her, or himself this time. He simply stepped into the tub and rearranged her in his lap until they both fit. He flipped the tap on and the water began to pool around them, cool at first and then warming, sinking into his clothes and weighing him down. But Rachel never moved, never pulled way or cuddled closer, she simply laid exactly where he’d put her and cried and cried until he had no idea if she would ever stop.
When he realized that the bath itself wasn’t going to help, he began to stroke his hands over her, trying to soothe the both of them. His fists wanted to clench. His jaw wanted to grind his teeth into dust. But he couldn’t lash out, no matter how much he wanted to.
He was pissed off. Angry. Mad. Beyond mad. He was seething on the inside but he wasn’t mad at Rachel. He was mad at himself. He was angry at Lincoln. He wanted to rip Craig Grant apart limb by limb now that all of his worst fears had been confirmed. The man had hurt his brother, nearly killed him, and he’d hurt the woman Remy loved too. He’d scarred her so badly that even now, she couldn’t seem to wrap her head around how or why he would choose her.
She’d expected him to throw her out. Turn on her. Hate her. He’d seen the fear written all over her face as she spilled what she knew. And she knew a lot. A lot that she hadn’t told him. A lot that she’d been keeping from him. But she hadn’t lied, not like Lincoln had accused her of doing.
She’d never lied to him. She’d told him she was scared. She was afraid of her brother. He’d threatened her. He’d hurt her. But when he’d asked her why she’d never lied, she just hadn’t told him the truth. She hadn’t trusted him with the truth. And fuck that hurt.
He loved her. He’d told her he loved her. He’d promised to protect her. But she hadn’t trusted him to believe her, choose her, and stand by her.
He understood the fear. Hell, he’d lived with his own fears too long not to understand where she was coming from. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her. They were the same. They’d both been betrayed by people they should’ve been able to trust. He had let her in, past that, but as far as they’d come in the last week, she hadn’t overcome hers yet.
She’d never had anyone choose her or put her first. She’d told him that. Her father had been a mean old bastard that was better off in prison. Her mother had worked herself into an early grave instead of taking care of her daughter. And Craig, that piece of shit half-brother of hers, had hurt her irreparably. She didn’t trust anyone to be there for her and he wasn’t sure he could even blame her for lumping him in with everyone else.
He’d run the last time things got hard. Ten years ago, instead of facing his demons he’d fled the city, the state and then the country. He’d chosen war over fighting with his family. He’d run towards bullets in a desert on the other side of the world, chosen to watch his friends bleed and die, rather than stay and deal with his damage. Of course she would think that given another bad situation, another betrayal, that he would up and disappear again.
He’d deserted everyone that mattered to him back then. He’d left Cash and Colt behind to fend for themselves. He’d left his cousins and friends behind to deal with each other. He’d run away from his responsibilities, from his life, from his family. But nothing could make him run away from Rachel.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He brushed his lips over the top of her head, “I promise that you’re not going to lose me, love. I swore to protect you. Remember that? That day in the kitchen when I first kissed you? That was the first day of the rest of our lives. I told you. You’re mine. And I protect what’s mine. There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. I’m not going anywhere so come back to me. Come back, Rachel.”
He held her to him but she didn’t respond. The water in the tub was turning tepid and his woman had still made no move to speak so he sighed and pulled the drain. He had no idea what to do next. He’d thought that he had seen Rachel at her worst. That night after the fight, when her brother threatened her and she’d fallen apart, he’d thought that was as bad as it could get. Then, after the confrontation in the salon when she’d fallen to pieces, he’d sworn that he would never let her fear get the better of her like that again. But that had been nothing compared to this…
She was paralyzed with fear. She didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Showed absolutely no signs that his words were getting through to her.
Rachel was putty in his hands as he stood them back up and held her in place. Her legs held, which was an improvement, so he kept one hand on her hip and used the other to grab a towel. After helping her out of the tub, he stood her on the rug and slowly, with sure and gentle movements, began to undress her.
It wasn’t easy. The wet clothes were heavy and clung to her body. When his hands brushed against her breasts she sucked in a gasp of air and he chewed the inside of his cheek. Her nipples stiffed as he worked her bra off and he was the one to suck in a breath as a new plan to get through to her began to form in his head.
Keeping his breathing as steady as he could, he worked to undress her. Peeling layer after layer away until she stood in front of him completely bare. Completely vulnerable. But she made no move to cover herself. Then again, if the flush that had stolen over her cheeks and worked it’s way down her chest was any sign, she wasn’t as unaffected by her nudity as she seemed.
Since his clothes were soaking wet too, Remy took a chance and let her go. She swayed slightly but didn’t fall. She also didn’t move away from him. Quickly now, he stripped his shirt off over his head and when he dropped it to the ground and looked at her again she’d begun to chew on her bottom lip. Her eyes were big and cloudy, red from her tears, but her lashes fluttered as she stared at his chest and he felt heat rush through his own veins.
She was still here with him. She wasn’t pulling away. He had to hope that meant he could get through to her. He had to prove to her that he was still here with her too, that he still loved her, that he always would.
He kicked out of his jeans and heard her breathing kick up a notch once they were both naked. Slowly, so he didn’t scare her, he eased forward and pulled her into his arms. He lifted her easily, holding her close, pressing them together until it was impossible to tell where he ended and where she began. She shivered against him and then he felt it. Tentatively, her arms came up around his neck, holding him to her in return and he let out a shuddery breath of relief that there was some sign that she wanted this, wanted him.
Remy tipped her chin up and kissed her, slow and soft. No tongues. No teeth. Just his lips against hers, grounding them both. He tried to tell her with his kiss all the things he needed her to know.
He loved her. He chose her. He always would.
When she tried to deepen the kiss, he broke it. Confusion colored her big, gray eyes but as much as he hated that look on her beautiful face, he simply shook his head. They weren’t rushing this, not this time. He carried her to their bedroom and gently laid her back on the bed, following her down until every part of their bodies were in line and only then did he kiss her again.
Sweet and gentle, he kissed her as if they had all of the time in the world, as if there was no need to rush, because there wasn’t. He wasn’t going anywhere and neither was she. He intended to make love to her the same way.
Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck again, moaning against his mouth when she rocked her hips up and felt his erection. He propped himself up on one elbow and used his free hand to force her hip back down to the mattress. She bit her lip again, that look of confusion painting her pretty, tear-swollen face and making him groan.
“We’ve rushed through too much already. This, you and me… I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care how long it takes to prove that to you. I’m not going anywhere. Just relax and let me love you.”
