15. Kieran

15

KIERAN

U sually by this point, my skin would be crawling with the need to get away from whomever I'd just fucked. It was never anything personal. Only my own hang-ups about women and relationships. Maybe I've been bitter all this time. Until now.

Having Paisley wrapped in my arms, snuggled against my chest, her index finger tracing the lines of my tattoos? It's pure bliss. I never want to let her go. Having her here quiets the demons inside me. All I feel right now is peace.

After I got her cleaned up and poured us each a glass of wine, I handed her the TV remote and told her to choose a movie. It didn't matter what she picked. I haven't watched any of it because I'm too focused on her. The dimple that appears on the right side of her face when she laughs. Her dark irises, that from a distance appear almost black but when you look really closely, have tiny flecks of gold in them, sparkling like perfect diamonds.

I've known this woman for nearly two months, and we've spent that entire time arguing. Now I'm wondering if the entire time I was falling in love with her bit by bit. For the rest of my life, I want to spend every night just like this, with Paisley in my arms.

My throat tightens at the realization. I'm in love with Paisley.

She lets out a soft sigh, the heat of her breath grazing my skin.

"Let's take a nap, baby."

"I don't want to take a nap."

The corners of my lips twitch, and I start stroking her head. "Are you always going to oppose everything I say?"

She shakes with silent laughter. "Probably."

"Brat."

She tenses, then tips her head back to pin me with her dark brown eyes, something shining inside them as she quietly asks, "But I'm your brat, right?"

Is she worried? Does she think I wasn't being serious this morning when I told her we were a thing? Maybe I didn't make it clear enough. Whatever the issue, I'm going to fix it right fucking now.

"You're my brat, Paisley. My woman. My baby girl. Mine. Call us whatever you want, but you belong to me, and I belong to you."

She studies my face for a few seconds, tears pooling. My heart cracks right down the center as I watch the sadness overcome her. Why does she look so torn? My girl should never have a reason to be sad.

"What's wrong, baby girl? Talk to Daddy."

Shaking her head, she sniffs and dashes the first falling tear away. "Sorry. I'm being ridiculous. I'm fine."

I sit up straighter against the cushioned headboard, then reach over and pull her onto my lap. If she thinks I'm going to allow that answer—or allow her to push me away—she doesn't know me very well. There will be no secrets between us. No space. No hidden thoughts. No privacy.

"First of all, nothing you feel is ridiculous. Second, you're not fine, and you know I don't like lying. Tell Daddy what's making you sad."

"I'm just overthinking. I'm getting ahead of myself, thinking the worst."

What does she have to think the worst about? I just told her she was mine. I never say anything unless I mean it with every piece of me.

"What are you thinking the worst about?"

She shakes her head. "It doesn't matter. We're having a good time, and I'm ruining it. I should go home."

When she tries to shift away from me, I tighten my arms around her, not giving her an inch to budge.

"You're not ruining anything. And you're sure as fuck not going anywhere. You need to talk to me, Little one. I can't fix things if I don't know what's going on. Now, start talking, or I'm going to start counting, and if I get to three, I'll spank the answers out of you."

Her mouth drops open, and she crosses her arms over her chest. "You wouldn't do that, Daddy. That's so mean."

I raise an eyebrow and capture her chin between my fingers. "I am mean, and I absolutely will do that if that's what it takes. I'm not good at communicating, so I'll do what I need to do to get what I want."

She drops her arms, then leans into me again, resting her head on my shoulder. "I'm scared, Kieran. Two days ago, I hated you. But I didn't really hate you, y'know? And now, you're coming at me with all this deep stuff and talking about the future. It's exciting, and in my mind, I start picking out paint colors and furniture for our house. Then, I come back to reality and realize how ridiculous I am. This isn't going to last. You'll grow tired of my sass, eccentricities, and dark style, and you'll go find someone easier and prettier. And that's okay. I just need to stop thinking about white picket fences and a Newfoundland named Buster."

Oh, how badly I want to give her a piece of paper and a pen and tell her to list the name of every person in her life who ever hurt her or made her doubt herself.

"Baby, we're not getting a fucking white picket fence. It's going to be black so it matches our house," I say dryly, smirking at her when her head snaps up. "You never hated me, Paisley. Just like I never hated you. This thing between us has been building for months while we've both tried to deny it. Let me tell you one thing, though.

"I've never felt for any woman what I feel for you. I've never been so protective and possessive over a woman. I've never wondered how long I need to wait before I can go ring shopping until you . In my eyes, Paisley, there is no one prettier than you. And the best part of all? Your beauty is on the inside and the outside.

"I'm obsessed with you, baby. I have been since the night I pulled you out of that goddamn club. If you want to pick paint colors, let's go to the hardware store and stay up all night painting. If you want all new furniture, we'll toss the existing shit outside and burn it. I'll have the picket fence installed tomorrow. The dog, too. I might draw the line at calling the thing Buster, though."

Her eyes shine with fresh tears, but this time, she's smiling, so I'm hoping everything I said actually sunk in. It might seem like this is happening so quickly, but it's been smoldering for months, and now, I'm ready for the next step.

"I'm all in, Paisley. I never thought I'd ever want to spend my life with a woman again. Not until you."

Even in this giant bedroom, sitting on my king-size bed with only muted natural light from the windows, this moment feels intimate yet monumental. Almost as though this could be a turning point for us.

"Someone hurt you before," she murmurs.

I shake my head. "No."

She narrows her eyes and pinches my chest sharply. "Lying is against the rules."

My heart pounds faster, emotion swirling in my stomach. I don't think I like her throwing that rule back at me. Brat. "You're right. It is against the rules." I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a second. "Someone hurt me a long time ago. I haven't had more than a casual hook-up since."

Memories of my past hit me like a bullet. I've had fleeting thoughts of her over the years, but to actually talk about her brings up fresh waves of hurt, anger, and resentment. I'm an intelligent man with excellent instincts, but for some reason, I was so fucking blind to her. I'll never understand why.

Paisley stares at me for several seconds, chewing on her bottom lip. One thing I'm learning about my girl is that she feels deep. Her outer shield is tough, but once you get under that, you see so much more of her.

"What did she do to hurt you?" she asks quietly.

"It doesn't matter. She's in the past."

"It does matter because I don't want to do what she did to you."

I reach out and slide my hands under my T-shirt that she's wearing to wrap them around her ribcage. "You could never be like her. You've already shown me you're not her."

When she furrows her eyebrows in confusion, I sigh. My stubborn girl isn't going to let me get away with giving her half-assed answers. Why am I not surprised?

"She used me. All she wanted was my money. She lied constantly and manipulated me. Everything about her was fake. I was blind and stupid. I was also just coming up in the ranks of the mafia and focused on that, so I missed the signs. It wasn't until I walked in on her fucking some other guy in my house—a guy she used my money to buy a car for—that I pulled my head out of my ass."

Paisley balls her fist, her mouth turned down in disgust. "What a fucking cunt. I'd like to get my hands on her for a minute."

The tension radiating inside me disappears instantly, replaced by a newfound adoration for her. I almost laugh. I don't think I've ever had anyone want to protect me before. It's always been the other way around. She never needs to worry about me, but her wanting to means the fucking world to me.

Laughter shakes my whole body. "My fierce Little demon."

She bobs her head. "I am fierce. I'll scratch her eyes out. Then. I'll take her to Cali's fishpond and shove her in."

Jesus Christ. Who knew this one would be as unhinged as me? I fucking love it. She's perfect. Everything I need in a woman.

I squeeze her gently. "Easy, baby. She's long gone, and I'm over her. I've been bitter ever since, though. Never wanted to trust a woman again. Until I met you. You're so fucking real, and it's refreshing. You don't blow smoke up my ass, you don't make things easy for me, you don't take my shit, you aren't afraid to look me right in the eye while you tell me to fuck off."

She winces. "That kind of makes me sound horrible."

"No, baby. It makes you sound strong. And real. And brave. I don't know what happened in your past, but it carved you into the beautiful warrior you are today. You survived by being a strong badass, and I'd rather have you telling me to fuck off because that makes you feel safe than bowing at my feet just to make me happy."

Her bottom lip trembles as she stares at me for a second before pinning her gaze to a spot on the headboard just to the side of my head. Whatever she's about to say is going to be heavy and emotional. I want to absorb it all so she doesn't have to hurt. "My parents were drug addicts. My brother and I; we grew up doing what we had to do to survive. We were close. Always looked out for each other. When our parents were home, they were locked in the only bedroom of our tiny apartment, high off their asses. The only reason they had us was so they could collect welfare to buy their drugs. My dad barely knew my name. He just called me, ‘hey, you.'"

Every bit of bliss disappears, replaced with rage that burns so hot I'm trembling inside. Her parents will fucking answer to me for what they did to her. How could anyone treat their kids that way? It's horrendous, and my heart breaks for young Paisley. She deserved so much more. She deserved the fucking world.

"When Daniel and I got older and went to school, we were made fun of because of the ratty clothes we wore. My hair was always a mess. Of course, my parents moved us around frequently from one shitty place to another since they spent all their money on drugs instead of rent, so we were never in one school long enough for the teachers to realize what was going on. Even with all the shit at home, Daniel and I were straight-A students. It's easy to overlook the kids who get good grades and don't cause any problems. We were invisible.

"We were in high school when my dad took Daniel to pick up some drugs with him. He forced my brother to try crack while they were at the dealer's house. After that, Daniel started getting high with my parents. So, I was left alone while the three of them did their thing. As soon as I turned sixteen, I got a job and worked while going to school, taking every possible shift I could so I didn't have to go home. Every single paycheck my parents took. Instead of buying groceries or paying the rent, they bought drugs.

"I tried to be the good daughter. I tried to take care of the house and make dinners out of anything we had. I tried to make them better and get them to love me. I can't even remember a time either of my parents hugged me."

"Jesus Christ, baby." I squeeze her tighter, my grip bruising, but I can't let go. I'll never fucking let go.

I can't fathom a life like that. My father was a leader in the mafia, doing all kinds of illegal shit, but he still put me first. My mother wasn't as present as I wished she was, but whenever we were together, she was loving.

"Daniel changed into a completely different person when he started doing meth. He became a stranger to me. We were less than a year apart in age. I was six months from my eighteenth birthday and already had scholarships secured for college. All I had to do was get through the last two semesters of school, and then I'd be able to leave for college to live in the dorms. My parents were gone one day, and Daniel," she says, her voice trembling and her body starting to shake, "um, he was high, and he was acting stranger than usual." I take several slow and deep breaths, trying desperately to hold on to my control for the moment so she can finish.

I'm terrified of what she might tell me. Her own brother did something to hurt her. Whether it was emotionally or physically, it's unacceptable.

"He started making comments about needing a lot of money. He kept pacing and mumbling under his breath about something. I asked if he was okay, and he looked up at me, surprised, like he'd just realized I was there. He told me to give him all my money, but I didn't have any. He didn't believe me and started screaming that he would kill me if I didn't give him money. I tried to leave, but he grabbed me and shoved me against the wall. I was so scared. The person in front of me wasn't Daniel. It was like he was a possessed monster. I fought him, but he was stronger. We scuffled and fell to the ground. I saw the heavy glass ashtray that my parents always kept on the coffee table out of the corner of my eye. I hated that thing. It was always overflowing with cigarette butts. I grabbed it and hit him over the head with it. Then I ran. I never went back. I knew if I did, I'd be dragged into that life, and I wanted more for myself. I didn't care what happened to my parents, but I've missed Daniel every day since. I don't know if he's dead or alive or in prison. He loved me once, but drugs made him a different person."

Tears roll down her cheeks as she shakes in my grasp, and I can't hold on any longer. I yank her against my chest and crush her with my embrace, burying my face into her silky hair. My girl. My sweet girl. Those assholes tried to break her, but she was too fucking strong. I'm so proud of her for doing what she had to do, but I'm devastated and pissed that she had to go through all of that.

"Never again, Paisley. No one will ever hurt you again. I'm going to fucking kill him. And your parents for not protecting you or loving you the way you deserved."

She cries harder, holding onto me for dear life. The entire time, I make silent promises to avenge her. To make anyone who ever hurt her pay.

"Daddy's got you. I've got you, Little one."

When she quiets, she doesn't immediately pull away. Instead, she relaxes into me. "I've always taken care of myself, Kieran. I've always protected myself. I met Chloe on the first day of college, and she took one look at me and could tell I was in bad shape. She bought me clothes and toiletries, and she never made me feel less than. She just loved me without conditions. She's the only one who ever has."

Until now.

I won't say it. Not yet. She's barely trusted me enough to open up to me. The last thing I want is to scare her away by declaring that I'm in love with her and going to marry her one day. God, the guys are going to have a fucking field day with me. Maybe I should move.

"You don't have to take care of yourself anymore, baby. You don't have to protect yourself anymore. Let Daddy do those things. Let me take the lead so you can just have fun and live a happy life knowing I've got you."

She sits up to face me, her cheeks blotchy from crying. She still looks as beautiful as ever.

"We're both damaged, Kieran. We both have trust issues. To expect this to last is ridiculous. You'll grow tired of me giving you attitude, and I'll probably fight you on everything because I'm used to being in control of my own life. It's a disaster waiting to happen."

My chest squeezes to the point of pain, and panic creeps over me. She's trying to push me away. I won't let that happen. She's mine, whether she likes it or not. "You're right, baby. We have issues. I'm a controlling asshole who will want to run your entire life, and you'll have issues allowing me to do that and trusting that I'm here to stay. But if you need to fight me on everything, I'll fight harder to show you that I care. You'll have an attitude, and I'll spank it out of you until you understand that's the only thing that will happen when you act out. And as far as disasters go, it might be an epic one, but it's going to be a beautiful fucking one, too, because it's us. I'm all in, Paisley. All fucking in. And baby, I'm not going anywhere. Ever."

She stares at me, her eyes wet and shimmering under the soft light. "How can you be so sure about us?"

I reach out to brush her hair away from her face, then run the back of my fingers down her cheek. She has no idea how special she is or how easy it's been to fall for her. I'm going to change that. One day, she won't doubt herself. "Because no one in this world has ever made me feel the things you make me feel."

We sit in silence, our hands softly exploring each other. I want to know what she's thinking, but I also want to give her time to sort her thoughts. It's okay because I need a moment to sort mine, too.

Her parents and brother are now sitting on death row. Right along with her ex, Jeremy.

Finally, when I can't stand it anymore, I sigh. "Tell me what you're thinking."

She traces the lines of my tattoos, something I've noticed she likes to do. Maybe it's calming for her. I love it because it soothes me, too.

"I'm thinking that I'm scared. That I could actually fall for you, and you might be the person who could truly destroy my heart."

She has the very same power over me. My ex hurt me, but Paisley could fucking end me. It's one of the scariest things about this. I'm putting my life in her hands, hoping she'll be able to love me one day.

Cupping her face, I stare deep into her eyes. "Never. You're mine, Paisley, and I protect what belongs to me. You might not always like how I take care of you, especially when I'm turning your ass red, but I would never harm you or allow anyone else to."

She studies me and smiles softly. "I'm not going to make it easy on you, big guy."

I chuckle. "Oh, I'm counting on it, baby."

"But," she says more seriously, "I promise I'll never treat you like she did."

Closing my eyes, I take a shaky breath, my heart constricting. I already know Paisley would never be like my ex, but hearing her say it is a gentle reassurance I didn't realize I needed. "Thank you, baby girl."