Surrender (Steel Brothers Saga 6)

“We don’t want to get her in trouble, Jonah.”

“No, I don’t want to do that,” he said. “But we need these original documents. And I need to talk to Wendy Madigan. Goddamnit, someone is going to tell me the truth if I have to beat it out of them.”

“Jonah, you’re not going to hit a woman.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “Of course not, baby. You know I would never do that.”

“You know,” I said, “this could mean nothing. So the six of them knew each other in school. That was eons ago. It doesn’t mean a thing.”

He looked at me, straight in my eyes, his own burning. “You don’t believe that.”

I sighed. “No, I don’t. But we have no reason to believe that your father was involved in anything nefarious. He certainly wouldn’t have participated in the kidnapping and rape of his own son.”

Jonah shook his head, his pallor lightening. “At this point, Melanie, I just don’t know. I keep coming back to what Larry said to Bryce and me. ‘The truth is overrated. Once you open the door to that dark room, getting out is damn near impossible.’ I’m now seeing the ironic truth of those words.”

I took his hand, rubbing my thumb into his palm. “I can’t promise you what we’ll find, but I promise you this. We will get to the bottom of this. You and I together. And Talon, Jade, Ryan, and Marj. We will find the truth.”

* * *

Jonah didn’t speak much on the drive home, and when we entered the house, he didn’t even stop to pet Lucy when she trotted up to meet us. He grabbed me, pushed me up against the wall, and crushed his mouth to mine.

The kiss was angry, and while I knew Jonah wasn’t angry with me, I understood why his emotions were coiled up the way they were. He had just found out that his father actually knew all of Talon’s kidnappers, indeed had been in a club with them in high school. Perhaps his emotion wasn’t anger so much as it was helplessness, probably a combination of the two. Whatever it was, I would be here for him. I would see to whatever needs he had.

His tongue tangled with mine, and he groaned against me. When he pulled back a little, he nipped at my lips, sucking the lower one into his mouth and biting it. Then he crushed our lips together again in a demanding, punishing kiss. I knew he wasn’t punishing me. This was his way of punishing the world around him, the world that had delivered to him such a feeling of helplessness.

When he finally broke the kiss and sucked in a deep breath, he grabbed me, holding my face in one hand. “I need to take you downstairs, Melanie. I need that more than I can even put into words right now.”

“Jonah…”

“No, Melanie. I could go out and swim a hundred laps in my pool, or I could go on a run, or we could go to my bedroom and fuck each other’s brains out. But none of those will give me peace, not right now. I need to take you downstairs. And I don’t know what I’ll do if you say no.”

I was not about to deny him. Things tonight might go farther than I was ready for, but I had pledged my love to this man. I had pledged my life to him, and right now he was in pain, big-time emotional pain, and I would do what I could to ease it for him.

I looked at him straight into his dark brooding eyes. “I’m not going to say no.”

He touched his forehead to mine. “Thank God.” Then he swooped me up in his arms, walked me through the foyer and to the door that led to his basement. He thumped down the stairs quickly, turning, walking through the rec room and then opening the door to his dungeon.

“I can’t be gentle with you,” he said. “Not tonight. But I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you.”

Fear sliced into me, but I was determined to give him what he needed. “I know you won’t. Take from me what you need, Jonah. I’m here for you.”

He set me down and took a seat on the bed. “Undress.” His voice was firm, commanding.

I wasn’t sure whether he wanted me to undress slowly and give him a striptease or just get naked as quickly as I could. So I decided to compromise and try to be sexy while getting undressed quickly.

I unbuttoned my blouse and slid it over my shoulders. I bent forward and unclasped my bra, so he could see my breasts pointing downward as I removed it. Then I stood straight and put one foot on the bed, unzipping my ankle boot. I removed it and then my sock, and then repeated the motions with my other leg. I stood straight again and unzipped my jeans,

sliding them over my hips and thighs and stepping out of them.

He groaned. “Still that damned beige cotton.”

I bit my lip. My cotton underwear was angering him tonight?

“Come here,” he growled.

I walked toward him slowly, and he grabbed my hips and unceremoniously ripped the panties off me.

“From now on,” he said, “you do not enter this room wearing beige cotton. Is that understood?”