Marked: Chapter 9
A scream wakes me, hurtling me upright in bed.
“Harley?” Zack’s here, he’s pulling at my hands that are clawing at the bedding, trying to untangle myself.
It was me.
I’m screaming.
“Harley. It’s all right.” He gets the blankets out of my grasp and throws them off me, pulling me right into his lap as he leans back against the headboard of my bed.
Zack’s here.
In my bed.
I blink, pushing the sleep and horror from my eyes so I can focus on his face.
His beautiful, stern, worried face.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, covering my mouth with my fingertips. “It’s been so long since that’s happened.”
He wipes my hair from my face. It’s stuck in place by the thin layer of sweat.
“It’s all right. You were having a nightmare. It happens.” He tucks the last bit of hair behind my ear and cups my cheek, drawing my face toward his. “It’s all right. You’re okay.”
I take a shaky breath and nod.
“I’m okay.” I agree. I’m here. I survived.
The guilt crushes me.
“Harley. Look at me.” His voice hardens. His grip on my cheek tightens. “Look at me.”
I blink. Aren’t I? No. I’m staring at the headboard over his head. Still lost in the fog of my miserable past. I’ll never outrun it. It drowns me even when I sleep.
I move my eyes to his and blink.
“I’m sorry,” I say again.
He frames my face with both hands, holding me firmly.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” His chin lowers. “It’s no wonder, after everything you told me tonight. Of course you’d have a nightmare.” He pulls me closer, tucking my head beneath his chin.
I melt right into him.
The nightmare clears away, and the reality of the evening focuses better now.
After we’d finished talking, it was nearly three in the morning. I’d asked if he wanted to just sleep here instead of going back to his motel.
“I’m glad you stayed,” I say, after silent moments pass. “Sometimes the nightmares turn into panic attacks once I’m awake.”
He lightly pets my cheek.
“Are you having one now?”
I shake my head, bumping into his chin.
“No.” I sigh and wrap my arms around him. “I’m all right. It’s gone now.”
“What’s gone?”
“The memory.” I take a deep breath. “Or the nightmare. I’m not sure anymore. It gets all muddled.”
He runs a hand up and down my arm.
“Probably why they never got close to finding the guy. I can’t be relied on. When my memories don’t line up with Mom’s, it makes it harder.”
His eyebrows knit together.
“Your memory isn’t your fault. The police have plenty of resources at their disposal. They shouldn’t have had to rely on your recollection.” He tilts his head.
“Maybe, but Special Agent Laurens never had much hope about finding him. They never closed the case, but the last time I spoke with her, she gave me her card and said to call her if I had anything for her. I got the impression they weren’t working it anymore.”
“Special Agent? She’s FBI?”
“Yeah. It’s a kidnapping case, so the FBI took it.”
“When’s the last time you talked to her?”
I think for a beat. “Two years ago? Maybe longer. But I think Mom calls her every year, around now, to see if they’ve made any progress.”
“You and your mom don’t talk much about your sister, do you?”
“It’s better when we don’t. The guilt…it hurts us both so much. We don’t even celebrate my birthday anymore. Quinn was my twin.”
He goes to ask another question, but pauses. A smile creeps across his lips.
“Harley, your twin sister’s name is Quinn? You two were Harley Quinn?” He laughs. It’s been so long since I heard such a beautiful sound, and while talking about my sister.
The weight of the nightmare eases.
I can’t help but laugh a little too.
“My dad was a huge fan of comic books.” I shrug. “Mom let him name us since we weren’t boys.” I roll my eyes, but it’s sarcastic. Dad never once treated us anything other than his prized daughters. He wouldn’t have traded us for anything.
“I bet the two of you did the name proud.” He brushes his fingertips along my cheek. “You should still celebrate your birthday,” he says firmly.
“If the guy’s ever caught. Maybe then. But now, it just feels wrong. I don’t want to hurt Mom any more than she’s been hurt.” I frown and tap my temple. “I told you; I’m broken.”
He pulls my hand down to my lap.
“You’re not broken.” He rests his hand on my knee and plays with the hem of my nightshirt. “I’m going to help you.”
“Help me?” I laugh a little. “How?”
“We’re going to find out who did this to you.”
He sounds so confident in his statement. I’m not sure I want to think too hard about it. “The police, the FBI did try.” Not too hard, I think. But I was so caught up in my own mess, I’m not sure I’m remembering that, or anything, right.
“They failed. You can’t always depend on them.” He runs his hand up my leg, just above my knee. “But you can always depend on me. Understand?” His tone hardens again.
“You’ve just met me, why do you want to help?”
He leans in. “Sometimes you meet someone who just clicks with you, you know? Like two pieces of a puzzle, they just fit. Do you know what I mean?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s us, Harley. We’re two pieces that fit together. And when it happens, you don’t argue with it.” His hand slides higher up my leg and I tense.
“Zack.” I push against his hand, but he moves it higher, then starts to feel around the inside of my thigh.
Tears build, but I blink them away.
It’s better he learns now.
This is who I am.
Broken.
“What is this?” He shoves my nightshirt up and sits up more so he can get a better look at the mess I’ve made. Reaching over, he flicks on the side table lamp and all of the scars are exposed.
“Don’t,” I whisper as he lightly traces each jagged scar on both my thighs. The insides, the outsides, the tops, everywhere I could reach. Anywhere I could hide with a long pair of shorts or skirt.
“Did you do this?” He levels me with a hard stare and for a moment I think he’s going to toss me off his lap and storm out. It wouldn’t be the first time. Who wants to look at this mess, much less touch it?
“Harley. No lies, remember.” He doesn’t so much as blink. “Did you do this?”
I nod.
His eyes soften, and he returns his stare to my legs.
“You were trying to make the pain on the inside come out.” He traces a long scar. It’s raised, and uglier than the others. I’d cut too deep. I almost needed to get stitches for that one.
“I just wanted the pain to match.” I cover his hand with mine, but he shakes it off.
“I’m not done looking.” He shifts me so that he can see the other leg better, the outside of my thigh.
“It’s ugly. I know.”
His gaze snaps up to me.
“Nothing about you is ugly, Harley. And don’t say it again.” There’s a warning there, and I’m not going to tempt it.
When he’s finished his inspection, he moves me from his lap so I’m sitting next to him on the bed again.
He pushes my legs apart to kneel between them.
Capturing my face between his hands, he leans down, bringing his mouth just a breath from mine.
“From now on, you don’t do this.” He pushes my head back, lining up our gazes.
His stare is too intense; I have to look away. A bubble forms in my chest, and it’s painful, it’s pleasureful, I can’t tell the difference. And the longer I stare into his beautiful eyes, the bigger the bubble gets.
“Harley,” he snaps my name until I meet his eyes again. “You don’t ever do this again, understood? If you need this, you tell me.”
I blink.
“Tell me you understand.”
“I understand,” I say, because I do.
His mouth crashes down over mine. It’s a deep kiss, hard and unyielding and I melt right into it.
I mewl when he bites down on my lip. He releases me a breath later, bringing his gaze to line with mine again.
“I’m the only one who gets to hurt you, Harley. Do you understand?”
I press my hands against his chest. “I understand, Zack.”
“When it’s too much, you tell me.” He runs the back of his hand across my cheek. “I’ll make it better. I’ll make it the same for you.”
“Yes, Zack.” I nod and lean into him, pressing my lips against his. At first, I’m sure he’s going to push me away. But he doesn’t.
He wraps his hand around the back of my neck, and he pushes his body into me until my back is pressed against the mattress. His hand sinks into my hair, tugging it at its roots.
My body hums with the pain, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him to me, afraid he’ll float away if I don’t.
His free hand slides down my body until he gets to the hem of my nightshirt. Bunching it up in his hand, he pushes it up over my hips.
“These panties need to go,” he mutters against my lips. “I want to feel you, Harley. All of you.” He leans up on his forearm. A tingle is left on my scalp where he held my hair.
“Yes,” I agree. I want that too. No. I need it.
“If you take them off, I’m going to fuck you.” He says this so softly, I almost miss how threatening it sounds.
“Yes.”
“You can say no.” He palms my cheek. “You should probably say no, because once I have you. I’m never going to let you go.”
“You say that like it should be bad, but it doesn’t feel bad.” I nibble on my lip.
“I don’t ever want to make you feel bad.”
“Only when I need you to?”
His lips kick up at the edges. “Only when you beg me to.”
My core melts at the way he emphasizes his statement.
“You’re basically a stranger.”
He nods. “But it doesn’t feel like that.”
“No,” I agree. “It doesn’t. It feels like I’ve known you forever.” How can that be when we’ve only met days ago? And yet, I’ve told him things I’ve never told anyone before.
And he’s here in my bed. Cuddling me after a nightmare. Vowing to help me search out the truth.
He presses his body against mine and his erection pushes against my panties. I bite down on my bottom lip.
“Has any other man touched you here?” He reaches between us and cups my sex. My panties are already wet, soaked through from him being so close, so wonderfully sexy.
“Yes.” I frown. “I’m twenty-five, Zack, of course I’ve had sex.”
He arches an eyebrow. “When.” Not a question, a demand.
“In college.” Is he going to get up and leave now? I’m dirty.
He gives a hard nod. “And you’ve always said yes?”
“No. Not the first time.” I lower my gaze.
“Hey, give me your eyes.” His voice is soft, caressing. “Not your fault.”
I nod. “I know.”
“Good.”
I smile a little. He doesn’t think I’m dirty.
“Your panties are still on.” He nudges me with a kiss to my chin, then my cheek, before taking my mouth again.
“Oh.” I laugh when he goes back to staring at me. “Right.” I hook my thumbs into the elastic of my panties and shove them down enough to get one leg out, then the other. Zack has to push up into a plank to allow me to move freely beneath him.
But as soon as I’m done, and the panties are on the floor, he quickly shoves out of his boxers.
Zack takes my hands and puts them over my head, capturing both my wrists beneath one of his hands.
“Is this all right?” he asks, leaning down to kiss my neck.
“Yes.” I nod, bumping into his chin again. He grins at me.
“Open your legs for me, little bird. Open wide.” He pulls my nightshirt up until my breasts are exposed. Leaning down, he plucks one nipple with his teeth.
I hiss because he’s scraped the sensitive skin, and it burns.
“Hmm, I like that sound. Let’s do it again.” He moves to the opposite breast and does it again, this time biting down harder on the tip.
I suck in a breath and wiggle beneath him. The sting courses straight through my body to my very core.
The tip of his cock presses against my entrance.
“You’re already so wet for me, so hot.” He reaches between us and strokes his cock, rubbing the head through my folds until he’s coated with my juices.
“Don’t tease me, Zack,” I chastise, arching upward at him.
He arches a brow. “Now I’m going to tease you even longer.”
“No. Please.” I shake my head. “I need you.” I bite my lip. “I need you to touch me. Please.”
“Since you asked so sweetly.” He trails one finger up through my pussy lips, collecting my arousal. “Like that?” He brings his finger to his mouth and sucks the wetness off. “So sweet.”
He lines his cock up with my entrance.
“I can be gentle if you want.” His jaw is tight. I think it might hurt him if he has to hold back, and I know it will hurt me.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not going to break.”
He grins. “That’s my girl.” And in the next second he plows into me until he’s fully seated.
His bigger than I thought. Thicker and longer.
I suck in a breath and freeze as my body accommodates his size.
He bites my earlobe.
“Give it a second, but only a second.” He licks just below my ear. “Fuck, you feel so good, little bird. So fucking good.” He slowly draws back, just until I think he’s about to leave me, and then he thrusts forward again.
It’s easier this time.
The third time is even better. And by the fourth thrust, I have my legs wrapped around his flanks.
“So tight,” he growls as he continues to thrust into me.
“I’m sorry.”
“Never be sorry.” He bites my cheek, just a little, before he kisses me. “Never be sorry. Just be you.” He kisses me as he thrusts harder and harder.
He lets go of my wrists and moves his hands to my hips, driving forward while yanking me back toward him. I press my feet to the mattress so I can buck up at him. Every time he draws back, it’s agony until he thrusts forward again.
“Oh. Zack. Please.” I dig my fingertips into his shoulders. His muscles work below my touch, so hard, and so thick.
“Please, what? Tell me what you need.” He’s breathless as he kisses my neck, my cheek. “I’ll give you anything.”
“Oh!” I tighten. My stomach trembles, along with my thighs.
“Yes, sweet girl. Unravel for me. Give yourself over to me.” He bites down hard on my breast as he thrusts harder into me.
Again, there’s screaming. Only this time, I know it’s coming from me. My throat feels like it’s going to split with the force of it. But it’s nothing compared to the intensity of my orgasm ripping through my body. I can barely breathe. My mind blanks.
All I’m left with are waves of pleasure crashing into me, carrying me away, before leaving me limp on the shore.
“Fuck, baby, that was beautiful.” He kisses my cheeks. “Pull your legs back a little.”
I spread my legs more, taking him more fully. I’m tender but it’s perfect.
“Oh fuck, yes, like that.” He wraps his arms under me, cupping my shoulders.
He thrusts. And thrusts. And thrusts, until he finally stills, and a beastly roar escapes as he finds his own release.
I watch his face. His control slips, and pleasure twists his lips into a grin as he slowly finds his way back to me.
He touches the side of my face.
“Are you all right?”
“Never better.” I reach up and bite his shoulder. “Are you all right?”
He flashes a lopsided grin. “No complaints.”
He kisses me, a passionate kiss that leaves me wanting more touches, more caresses, more bites from him.
But he pulls away, looks down at me, at the mess of his cum sliding out of me.
“Are you on the pill?” he asks.
“No.” I shrink back into myself. “I…I can’t have children. What they did to me…I’m too broken inside.”
His jaw sets.
“They will pay, Harley. For everything they did to you, your sister and your mother. They will all fucking pay.” A more sincere vow, I’ve never heard.
“Good.” I smile a little. Operating under the assumption they’d never be caught, never take any responsibility for what they did, has left me with as many scars on my soul as I have on my legs.
“It’s almost morning.” He slides next to me, pulling me to his side. I thought he was getting up to get a towel, but he pushes my legs back together, and nuzzles my hair.
“I like the idea of me drying on your skin,” he says.
I smile into the dim room.
“I do too.”
“Think you can sleep some more?” He pushes my hair behind my ear and kisses me just below my earlobe.
I yawn.
“I think so.”
“Good. We have a busy day tomorrow and you need your rest.”
“What are we doing tomorrow?”
“Monster hunting.”