Chapter Six

***Magnolia***

His firm lips cover mine and my heart beats faster as pure pleasure flares up inside my body. His tongue slides over my lips and I gladly give him access to let myself drown into this moment. The last time I felt someone spark anything similar was years back, and it was the same man who's heating up my soul this very instant.

A rumble flows through his chest and I can feel my nipples harden in return. My hands fist his leather cut and I'm ready to pull him closer or rip off his clothes—whatever I can manage first—but he suddenly pulls back.

He places his forehead against mine and whispers on a hot breath, "Joshua comes first, we come second. But the three of us will be together. Understood?"

"Okay," I answer breathlessly.

And I absolutely surprise myself with this answer because the second I knew I was pregnant I swore I wouldn't get involved with anyone because Joshua would always come first. Not to mention the turmoil I went through. A relationship was never going to happen. Yet Easton steps back into my life and suddenly I'm swooning from one mere kiss.

I'm about to tell him I need to think about it, but he places his finger on my lips. "No. No taking it back. I can tell in your eyes all the reasons are flooding your brain to backtrack, and I won't allow it. We're not jumping into bed together without thinking things through this time, okay? We'll set rules, boundaries, take it slow, whatever. First, we need to deal with the past and that fucker who still thinks he can torment you, and we will start by talking to Casey."

He slides his hand to my lower back and guides me into the living room. Casey is sitting at the dinner table and has spread out some documents. He's holding a pen and tapping it on an empty piece of paper.

"Would you mind if I ask you a couple of questions? I'm sure you've gone over it multiple times over the years, and I've read everything in your file but—"

I hold up my hand as I cut him off. "No reason to explain, I understand. If you want, I can tell you what happened from the start. You know, in my own words instead of answering questions. Then, when I'm finished…and if you still have questions…I will answer those too."

"Thank you, that would be a great help," Casey says with a warm smile and in a gentle tone.

I take a deep breath and start at the beginning. "I drove back from spending three weeks at my parents' house. They went on a cruise and since they own a cat, I offered to house sit for them. The only thing I remember was stepping out of my car, which I parked in the garage. Everything is fuzzy after that. The next thing I remember is waking up in a cage. Well, it was more like one of those large dog kennels. I couldn't stand or turn. I didn't have any clothes, only a blanket. The man who held me captive always wore black clothes, gloves, and a ski mask. He would enter the room which looked like a dark basement, grab a hose and hit me with cold water. I remember the cold…shivering so hard, my head would hurt from the way my teeth would chatter. I still hate cold showers or when the tap water is too hard of a stream and hits my hands. I hate it."

My chest is rapidly rising and falling and I have to close my eyes for a moment to take a deep breath and hold it in an effort to calm down. "Days blurred. I didn't know how long I was in there. The only thing he gave me was a dog bowl with oatmeal once a day, quickly followed by the cold water and then he'd throw a clean blanket into the kennel. The first few days I'd scream for help, yell and ask why he was doing this. He would just laugh, so I stopped asking and yelling. Then he started to poke a stick through the bars and just…torment me. Other days he would sit and stare and whistle. ‘Come on pretty birdy, why don't you sing for me.' That's what he used to say. It didn't matter what he or I did, it's the only thing he kept repeating. In the end I think it was my screams he got off on. When the water hit, when he would poke me with a stick. Eventually I didn't care anymore and kept quiet. He dragged me out of the cage and—"

My hands tighten to fists. I can do this. I've worked very hard to put it behind me. I'm safe. I'm still me, and my body still functions. I lock eyes with Casey as I feel Easton place his hand on my shoulder, giving me a little squeeze.

My voice comes out steady as I continue. "He would punch my face, step on my hands if I moved and used a bull whip to draw out my screams. Until…until I stopped screaming. I stopped fighting. I stopped eating. I just…stopped. I remember how he dragged me out of the cage. I kept staring at him while he whipped me. My mouth stayed closed. I must have passed out and next thing I remembered was waking up in the hospital."

"Do you remember anything about your attacker?" Casey asks.

This is something I've been trying to remember but I can't. "He always wore a ski mask. His whole face was covered and he also wore gloves. His eyes were dark, that's the only thing I could clearly see. Not blue, not gray, dark." And something that still haunts me when I get nightmares. "He would always use voice distortion so I couldn't tell you what his voice sounds like."

Casey nods. "You were held captive for a little over three weeks, correct?"

"Yes. I always call my parents when I get home from the long drive and this time I didn't. They tried calling my roommate but he didn't pick up."

"You've mentioned in your statement you thought it was weird your roommate didn't pick up the phone, correct?" Casey checks as if he's going over the police report step by step.

"My roommate, Peter, was always home, he didn't have a job. I was always home too because I used my room as a workspace. No matter what time, Peter would always pick up the damn phone. Even if all the calls were always meant for me." I rub both hands over my face. "At first, I thought it was Peter who held me captive because the week before I left for my parents, I gave him my one month's notice since I bought this house. He was grumpy about the fact I was moving out while he knew I only needed a room for about six months. He was always lazy and annoying but those last few days when I gave him my notice he turned into a mean jerk."

"Didn't the police check his alibi?" Casey points at the file. "Because I couldn't find any record of it."

I stand from my chair and head for the tiny desk in the corner to find the file I have stashed away in the bottom drawer. Handing it over to Casey, I say, "This might explain why. The private investigator my father hired when the first birds showed up collected all of this, but he didn't make any progress in linking Peter or finding any evidence that could incriminate or show who did all of this to me."

Casey starts reading and I can see Easton staring and I know he wants the information too.

I turn to look at him as I explain, "Peter's father has money and connections. It's the reason why Peter doesn't work; because his father pays the bills. He needed a roommate because he wanted some extra spending money and this was the easiest way. Plus, I was fanatical about cleaning. He didn't do anything and I hated a messy kitchen so I kept cleaning up after him. I was happy I finally found the perfect house for myself so I could move out. I hated the way he was always there watching me, even if I cleaned the damn kitchen."

"Peter's uncle is a detective. Pretty sure that's a big help with credentials. He didn't have an alibi for the day you were taken. Other than being at home and getting some gas for his truck," Casey adds.

"His truck was in front of the house. I paid extra to use the garage. And Peter didn't mind because he always parked in front of the house anyway. He was lazy. Like seriously lazy. But the cops never found a link so, I guess it wasn't him." I release a deep sigh of frustration.

"We'll see about that," Casey grumbles. "Do you still have any injuries? Are there any new things you might remember? No matter how little or irrelevant you might think it might be."

"No. I've been wracking my brain for years on end, trying to remember anything that might help explain who did this. Even the days or weeks before it happened. The only thing out of the ordinary was the night I spent with—" I almost let the name Easton fall from my lips but suddenly remember he doesn't use that name around his biker friends. "C.Rash. That night wasn't planned while all my life I've planned every day to the next."

Casey chuckles. "Well, obviously we can rule out C.Rash. Not only because it's very easy to backtrack and show you evidence if you need it, but I—along with every brother of the two MCs he's always around—know for a fact he wouldn't have let you go if he knew who you were. Whenever he's drunk, he always mentions the one woman who got away."

I can't help but smile. "Well, if I go missing again, be sure to check C.Rash's bed first, okay?"

Casey barks out a laugh. Easton joins him but clears his throat and sits down next to me. "I want this guy found. This Peter guy sounds like a good start."

"Agreed. I'll start digging and keep my eyes open for any other perp that might pop up. I'll widen my search because he could have followed her from her parents' house. From everything I've read about her case, the cops have been keeping it localized to her house and the place she was found." Casey shoves all the papers back into the file and holds up the ones I gave him. "Mind if I take this with me?"

"No, sure, go ahead," I tell him.

Casey stands but Easton's voice stops him from turning. "Casey, be sure to tell Calix this is now about the VP's old lady."

A slow smile spreads his face as he gives him a nod in return. "You got it, VP. I'll call if I need anything or have something to share."

I offer him my hand and Easton walks him out and makes sure to lock up. When he walks back to me the first thing on the tip of my tongue to question is the very explanation falling from his lips.

"I just claimed you as mine, Mags. My old lady. The VP's old lady . With my claim you have my protection along with every single brother looking out for you along with it. I want you safe. I want Joshua safe. And like I mentioned to you before…the three of us are together now. I might as well make it official."

With the turn of events, along with the explanation he just gave me—not to mention how he's managed to put people into action to dive into my case—my mind can't think of any reason why I should fight this. And I might as well listen to my gut because this feels right.

"Fine," I fake grumble. "But if you think that will earn you another chocolate chip cookie, you're sadly mistaken."

His head tips back and a full belly laugh rips from his body. My throat turns dry as I take in this magnificent man. He's exactly how I remembered him all those years ago. Strong. Handsome. Dark scruff to accent his strong jaw. Muscles in all the right places and even if he's wearing clothes, I remember all too vividly some of those muscles are inked. And he knows very well how to use his ripped body.

Okay. Maybe it's more than fine to be his old lady. To finally have a man around the house—something Joshua has craved to do dude stuff with—and for me to do grownup stuff with. His laughter stops and our eyes lock, instant lust skyrockets and suddenly it's getting very hot in here.

I dash up and take a step back. "There's a spare bedroom upstairs. The door is open and I'll get some clean linens. I'm gonna…I'm tired. I'll be upstairs. Goodnight."

I rush out of the living room and head upstairs. I know I'm making an escape and it's silly because he basically said he's here to stay. Though right now I need space. And if he is here to stay, I'm sure he won't mind taking it slow because my heart is racing and my body is pulsating with the need to kiss him and the intensity scares me a little.