Nitro's Torment (Sydney Storm MC 2)

Every crack.

Every wound.

Every flaw.

I pulled away, trying to scramble out of his hold, but he tightened his grip and held me in place. “Vegas,” he said with a shake of his head, his voice low. “Don’t.”

I wrapped my hands around his biceps. “Let me go, Nitro,” I demanded.

His nostrils flared. “I will if that’s what you really want. But one minute you’re telling me you can handle rough, the next you’re shutting down on me. I wanna know what gives. Was it because I brought up the rape?”

My heart beat so fucking fast I thought it would beat out of my chest. It wasn’t the damn rape, but I didn’t want to admit the truth to him. Fuck, I’d sound like an idiot if I admitted his thoughtfulness had gotten to me. I didn’t know what to do with kindness anymore. It confused me. Made me question shit because who the hell dealt in it anymore? And it made me feel more vulnerable than I could deal with. I didn’t want him to see all the things wrong with me.

I took a deep breath and tried to get my heart to slow down. Relaxing my body in his hold, I said, “I’m good. I just had a moment there. Sorry.”

I expected him to relax, too, and get back to where we were, but he didn’t. Again, catching me by surprise. He let me go and moved off the bed. Raking his fingers through his hair, he said, “Don’t fucking say sorry for something that wasn’t your fault, Tatum. Don’t ever do that.” His voice had so much emotion and force behind it that I wondered where it came from. It felt deep, like he’d lived it himself. Whatever it was.

I sucked in another deep breath, thinking about what he said. All the while, he stood in silence watching me. Waiting. Finally, I darted off the bed so I could turn the light off. Relief hit me instantly. Such an odd feeling. I never had an issue having the light on during sex, so I didn’t know where this was coming from.

I made my way back to where Nitro stood. Light filtered in from the hallway, but I had just enough darkness to feel comfortable. And I had enough light to make out the confusion on his face. All credit to him, though, he didn’t question my choice. He simply stood and waited for me to speak.

“Thank you,” I said softly, forcing myself to talk about something that made me want to curl into a ball and disappear.

“For what?” Still so gruff and demanding.

I wrapped my arms around me. Around my nakedness. As if covering that up would cover me up. “Fuck,” I muttered, stumbling over my feelings. Why was he forcing me to do this? He continued watching me intently, still waiting. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, for caring enough to take it into account.” I threw my words out there like they were a throwaway emotion when they were so far from that.

Nitro’s nostrils flared again and annoyance flashed across his face. But he dealt with whatever had pissed him off and regained control. Clenching his jaw, he said, “I want to kill that motherfucker over and over for what he did to you.” He reached out and smoothed a flyaway strand of my hair back behind my ear. His gesture startled me with its intimacy and gentleness. Especially when he appeared anything but gentle.

I curled my hand around his wrist hanging by his side. “I want that, too, but more for what he did to my brother,” I whispered.

It was true—while the rape had been awful, it hadn’t fucked me up as much as Chris’s murder. And the fact Nitro was the one who saved me meant I only viewed him as a protector, not as a man who might threaten me.

We stood in silence for a few more moments. Soaking in everything that had taken place. I’d expected none of it. And although I hadn’t shared with him how he made me feel exposed and vulnerable, I’d opened up more to him than to anyone in my life, besides Monroe.

He took a step away from me and I let his wrist go. When he reached for his jeans, I halted him. Finding his eyes, I said, “Stay.”

“I don’t think—”

I shook my head. I didn’t want sex. That wasn’t what this was about. “Just hold me. Please.”

His breaths slowed for a beat. He didn’t respond straight away and I thought he would say no. But then he nodded. “Okay.”

As I closed my eyes a little while later, with Nitro’s arms wrapping me in safety, I let out a breath I’d been holding for three weeks. A breath I hadn’t realised was trapped.

23

Nitro

“Pour Some Sugar On Me” by Def Leppard

Tatum was a furious sleeper. Both nights I’d slept with her in my arms, she’d tossed and turned like she was fighting demons. She’d also cried. Both nights. And had mumbled stuff about someone called Randall. I got the impression he was one of the demons she wanted to kill.

I woke before her and watched as she lay peacefully next to me. She’d finally stopped thrashing at around four and had been sleeping quietly for three hours. I wondered if she survived on that small amount of sleep each night and knew deep in my gut that she did. Tatum’s nightmares had her in their grips. The way she lived her life told that part of her story.

Unable to stop myself, I traced her lips. Kissing that mouth was high on my priority list, but I wanted her awake for that. She snuggled against me, a smile flitting across her face. She flung her arm across my chest and buried her face into my side. Fuck, she was softer like this and my dick hardened more than it already was. I was attracted to her fierce side, but this softness called to the part of me that wanted to take care of those in my life. The part of me that never wanted anyone to hurt the way my life had.

Selfishly, I ran my hand over her bare ass and spread her legs so that one of them hooked over mine. I wanted to touch her every-fucking-where but wouldn’t until she signalled that was what she also wanted. The restraint this took caused me physical pain. When she mumbled something and lifted her head, relief flooded me.