What the Hail Page 11

  He growled, but I continued before he could ask.

  “He was drunk. Pissed off that he was forced to marry me,” I continued. “See, I was only an obsession to him. A plaything, if you will. He wanted me, but he didn’t want to be married to me. We had somewhat of an arranged marriage. He’d done the unthinkable for a Donovan. Gotten a woman pregnant, and he had to make it right. I, being the stupid girl that I was, thought I was making a good decision. I was excited…happy.”

  He squeezed my waist.

  “After he beat me, I miscarried in the bathroom while he was passed out drunk,” I said. “Then he beat me again the next morning when he found out that I’d lost the baby that he’d been forced to marry me because of.”

  He dropped his head to my shoulder.

  “At that point, I think he was just with me to punish me,” I said. “He did what he wanted. Who he wanted.” I knew he got my point because he growled again. “He was a police officer. Like his father. His grandfather. His mother.”

  Baylor exhaled.

  “You never stood a chance, did you?”

  I shook my head.

  Tears threatened, but I choked them back and continued.

  “I stayed with him for eight years. Did the things he forced me to do and played his happy little wife who always did what he said.” I paused. “I tried to leave four other times before this last time that was successful.”

  “And what happened the first four times?”

  He knew that there was more to the story than I was letting on.

  “He beat me so bad that I miscarried the first and third times.”

  Everything inside of him stilled.

  “If I didn’t have sex with him, he got mad. If I took birth control, he got mad. So, I had no defense. It was bound to happen.” I hiccupped as I tried to find the ability to draw air. “The second time I found out I was pregnant, I stole a thousand dollars from his mother and tried to run.” I opened my eyes and looked at the streetlight that was five houses down from Baylor’s. “He found me within twenty minutes. That’s when I found out that he had an app on my phone that told him when I left a certain area.”

  At this point, Baylor’s arms were around me so tightly that I knew he was very angry and upset…for me.

  But I continued.

  “That night, he beat me, then beat me again the next morning when he found out I lost the baby for the second time.” I choked. “The third time, a year later, I managed not to take my phone. My mistake was trying to take money from our account…which he had an alert set up for when anything over a hundred dollars was withdrawn. He caught me at the ATM machine.”

  “And then he did the same thing again,” Baylor guessed.

  I smiled, but it wasn’t nice. Not at all.

  “He waited to beat me for a few days,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting it. Which was what he was hoping would happen. He waited for me to let my guard down before he did anything.”

  “And the last?”

  “It took me a year, but I was able to do it. And I got on birth control.” I bit my lip. “I’ve never seen him so angry in my life than when he found the pills I’d hidden. That was the day that I decided that I’d leave or die trying. I waited until he was at work and stole a car. His mother’s. And I drove until I was out of gas. From there, I walked to a shelter that was two towns over from where the car broke down. That’s where I got the name of an organization that helped women get free of abusive situations.”

  “And then what?”

  “Then, they sent me here,” I said. “Harold was my point of contact with them. He is the man that set up the girl before me. The one that was with your brother—or so I’ve heard.”

  He looked like he wanted to ask about that, but chose to keep silent. “Why in the hell would they choose Harold?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. Seems kind of crazy to me, too.”

  “Harold wasn’t chosen. I was,” came a voice from the side window.

  I screamed.

  Baylor didn’t.

  Chapter 17

  Why don’t I think before I speak? Because I like to be surprised by what comes out of my mouth along with everyone else.

  -Baylor’s secret thoughts

  Baylor

  I would’ve punched Rafe in the face if I had my hands free. Seeing as they were filled with a freaking out woman, I refrained. Barely.

  “Goddammit,” I grumbled as I pushed the door open.

  Rafe narrowly stepped out of the way in time to avoid being hit and sent me a grumbled oath for my troubles.

  “Fuck,” Lark said as I put her on her feet. “That wasn’t very nice, Rafe.”

  Rafe shrugged in the darkness.

  “Let’s go inside,” I mumbled to them both.

  Before I went very far, though, I stopped and turned back to my truck, grabbing my keys.

  “Won’t be hiding these in the truck anymore,” I tossed at Lark.

  Lark shrugged, which then had me thinking.

  “Lark isn’t your real name, is it?”

  She shook her head and pushed through the door of my house.

  “Why is everything of yours unlocked?” Rafe asked.

  I shrugged. “The neighborhood is good. Plus, everyone knows this is my house. Oh, and him.”

  Rafe didn’t see Pongo until he was nearly standing in front of him.

  Pongo sat in the darkness of the room, keeping vigil for me until I got back.

  “Jesus Christ.” Rafe came to a sudden halt. “You can’t even tell that he’s there.”

  He went to reach forward to place his hand on Pongo’s head, but Pongo’s ears went flat, clearly letting him know in no uncertain terms that he didn’t wish to be touched.

  “Since when do you have a dog?” Rafe asked, sounding amused.

  “Since I stole him,” Lark said, turning the kitchen light on.

  “Stole who?” Rafe asked, eyes narrowing.

  She tilted her chin in Pongo’s direction.

  “Why?” he continued.

  Lark crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Because I wanted to, that’s why.”

  “Where’d you steal him from?” Rafe pushed.

  “You know exactly where she got him from,” I muttered. “Stop playing like you’re dumb.”

  Rafe shrugged. “Well, I was watching her that night. Sue me.”

  Lark’s eyes went wide. “That was you?”

  He nodded.

  “Why?” she pushed.

  “Because you need a keeper,” he said. “Jesus, you’re worse than my sister.”

  “You have a sister?” Both Lark and I said at the same time.

  Rafe nodded. “I do.”

  “If you’re the point of contact with Free, then who the hell is Harold?”

  “Harold is a means to an end,” he said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him from reporting you to the police for those unpaid parking fines. I was there, trying to do something else, and missed the call he placed to the mayor.”

  I stared at the man that I so obviously knew nothing about.

  “What the fuck?”

  “There’s a lot about me you don’t know,” Rafe said.

  “Tell me about it,” I muttered. “Why are you really here?”

  Rafe walked to my fridge and opened it, extracting a bottled water.

  How he knew I had bottled water in there was anyone’s guess. I normally had nothing but a half gallon of white milk.

  My mother had come over at some point today and stocked my fridge—again—and I didn’t even know they were in there.

  “I’m here because I’m helping set up a network where other birds like Lark can be sent,” he said. “And her name was Rita, not Lark. But my guess is that she will never go by Rita again. You might as well continue to know her as Lark.”

  Lark paled even further and leaned her butt against the kitchen table as she started
to shake.

  I walked to her and pulled her into my arms, sending Rafe a glare.

  “She’s wondering if I’m the real deal,” he said. “I just had to make her realize I was.”

  “Why haven’t you introduced yourself to me?” she questioned.

  “Because you didn’t need to know me.” He paused. “Now you do.”

  Mr. Mysterious right there.

  “Rafe.” I pulled my hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose. “For the love of God. Stop acting like this and just fucking tell me what’s going on.”

  “I already did,” he said. “I was hired by an organization—the same one that set her up here—to make sure that this place is a safe one. That the point of contact is on the up and up. Which he so obviously is not. But I got distracted by the fact that Harold had his fingers in so many pies and forgot to tell them that they needed to hold off on sending any more of their little birds. Seems Lark was sent before the Freebirds received that message. Which I’ve already informed them of, by the way. I told them I would watch over her while she was here, otherwise she would’ve been moved three weeks ago.”

  “You knew I was having trouble?”

  He nodded. “I paid off your car loan, by the way. Ridiculous that they didn’t do that before, but it’s been fixed. They’re normally fan-fucking-tastic. Something happened that made them drop the ball there, though. And I have a hell of a feeling that it was Harold—Harold who was never supposed to be a contact if my sources are correct. But since I’d been watching him, I decided to wait on telling them anymore until I had the full picture.”

  “And do you have the full picture now?”

  He shook his head. “I was trying to do it delicately. However, with him calling the mayor on you today, I realized that since he’s not playing nice, I don’t have to either.”

  “Rafe?”

  Rafe’s dark eyes turned to Lark.

  “Yeah?”

  “If you paid off my car loan…where is the car?”

  He frowned. “Wasn’t it the one you’re driving?”

  We both shook our heads.

  “That’s a friend’s car,” I said, not willing to get into that whole bucket of worms.

  “Interesting,” Rafe said, tilting his head to the side. “I’ll have to look into it…you’re not the first person to pay off a car loan or pay off the back payments, and not get their car back.” He turned to me, his eyes calculating. “How many cars do you pick up a week for him?”

  I shrugged. “Three or four. Harold’s bank is the only place to get a loan, car or otherwise, in three counties, unless you do it online. If he doesn’t do it, then it’s unlikely that people can get one unless they have perfect credit and can hack an online loan. A lot of them default. There’s not much work to be had in this area of Texas. If you’re not an oil-field worker, at the factory, or working for us, then there’s nothing here. You have to drive to everything around here and to drive, you have to have a car. To have a car, you have to be able to pay for it. To be able to pay for it, you have to have a job, which you need a car to get to. It’s a vicious cycle, and Harold doesn’t just know this, he’s banking on it.”

  “That’s the truth,” Lark muttered to herself.

  “I’ll look into it.”

  Then Rafe was gone just as suddenly as he came.

  Lark turned to me, and she winced.

  “You’re still mad.”

  I nodded.

  “At me?”

  I nodded again.

  “I didn’t mean to.”

  I gave her a look that clearly relayed what I thought about that statement.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I turned away and opened the back door for the dog, who went out just as quietly as he’d been sitting there the whole time.

  After he finished his business, I let him back in, all the while keeping silent.

  “This is torture.”

  I looked at her over my shoulder.

  “I swear, if I thought that you weren’t going to get hurt, I would’ve told you…” she looked down at her hands. “He’s going to try to kill me, and he’s going to be wearing his Sal, ‘the good ol’ boy cop who wouldn’t hurt a fly’ cloak. And if you try to protect me, he’s going to kill you, too.” She looked away. “I love you, Baylor. I don’t want to see you die.”

  I walked up to her and stood there until she looked at me.

  “Look at me,” I demanded.

  She did.

  The moment I had her eyes, I moved in until my lips were hovering over hers.

  “I won’t die.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  I grinned. “He might’ve thought he could come here, into my territory, and take you back. Hurt you. But he’d be wrong.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  I looked at her, dead in the eye, and let my mask slip.

  “Is he only a cop?”

  She swallowed and nodded.

  “Was he in the military?”

  She shook her head.

  “Nothing special other than the cop portion?” I pushed. “He hasn’t branched out into the SWAT team or anything?”

  Again, she shook her head. “No, nothing like that. He’s been a beat cop for as long as I can remember. Every once in a while, he runs the traffic cop shift. He went to college and got a degree in art before he went to the police academy…why?”

  I smiled.

  “I haven’t always been a tow truck driver. I joined the military when I was seventeen. I know my shit. I learned the hard way how to survive. I was in for quite a long time. And most of that time, I was special ops. Trust me when I say I can handle myself. He might be a cop, but he’s never had to fight for his life from what you’ve just described to me. I have. He can think he’s on top here, but he won’t be. I will be. I promise you that.”

  Her eyes were pleading when she made eye contact with me.

  “If something happens to you…” she breathed. “I won’t survive it. He’s taken everything from me. My parents. My brother and sisters. My babies. I can’t let him take you, too.”

  My eyes were harsh.

  “Your sisters? Your parents?”

  She looked away.

  “They thought my marrying Sal was the best thing in the world. We lived in poverty. My dad was a construction worker. My mother didn’t work. My sisters and I were all very close in age. Getting rid of me meant getting rid of that extra mouth to feed. Though, they only ever did that when I was home on Christmas break or during the summer. That extra body to clothe. It was a really good day for everyone. Even I was excited.” She breathed out harshly. “Weeks later, when I told them that he was abusive, my mother didn’t believe me. She thought it was just me being upset about the baby—which was my reason for marrying him so fast.” I paused. “My sisters hated me because they liked Sal. They were mad because I got him and didn’t want him. I stopped talking to them a really long time ago. It’s been years since I’ve even seen them.”

  I went to her then, unable to stand having her so far away from me any longer.

  “Lark?”

  She looked up just when I gathered her into my arms.

  “Yeah?”

  “Kiss me.”

  I didn’t make any more promises. It was what it was, and I wouldn’t be able to prevent whatever was going to happen from happening. I could prepare for it, though. I could also show her that no matter what, she was important to me.

  I would not let her down.

  “Okay,” she breathed.

  Then her soft lips were on mine.

  I was still sweaty from my run, but she didn’t seem to care.

  Hell, she was practically touching every inch of my body, running her soft hands down the swells of my pectoral muscles, up over my shoulders, and down the length of my arms.

  All the while she kept her lips on mine.

  Then her tongue hesitantly licked my p
arted lips, darting inside quickly before pulling out again.

  Three times she did this before my frustration was complete, and I took the kiss over.

  I inhaled her, breathing in her scent while sucking her tongue into my mouth.

  Our teeth clicked together as I tilted my head and deepened the kiss, charming her tongue with mine.

  Soon she was pressing against me, and I realized right then and there that I wouldn’t be able to wait very long.

  It’d been days since I’d had her.

  I’d done her so thoroughly that even I was sore the next day.

  But with the rush and bustle of the last couple of days, we’d done nothing more than heavy petting before one of us either had to be at work or go to sleep.

  Now, though? Now I was going to take her like I’d been dying to do.

  I wanted her, and I wanted her bad.

  Pressing my cock into the apex of her thighs, I maneuvered her until I felt the couch at the back of my knees, and sank down. I pulled her with me, settling her on my lap.

  “Roll over.”

  She frowned at me, pulling away and looking dazed.

  “What?”

  I moved her until she was lying on her back across my lap.

  Seconds later, I had the zipper and button of her jeans undone, and I was shoving them off of her hips roughly. Frantically.

  “Holy shit,” she breathed, helping me now at seeing my urgency.

  I chuckled darkly and pulled her back into my lap once she was naked from the waist down.

  “Need you.”

  I couldn’t even talk in complete sentences at this point, my desire was so fierce.

  I wanted her.

  I was mad as hell.

  And those two things weren’t a very good combination.

  I couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t convey what I wanted to convey.

  I’d never been good with words to begin with.

  Hell, I’d almost failed my English class in high school because I couldn’t write a goddamn paper that I’d known about since the beginning of the semester.

  But I’d always been good with my hands.

  And I was showing her that now.

  She liked what I was showing her, too.

  Her hips lifted, knees spread, and suddenly she was giving herself to me completely.