13. Chapter 13

13

I trust him.

I'm also still mad at him, but I trust him.

"Kiss me," he orders. One that I will gladly follow. I don't know how I went so long without kissing him. I never want to stop; it's like my new obsession.

Slipping my fingers through his hair again, I plant my lips against his, letting him take control. His hands tighten around my hips, the action sending tingles through my body, and my pussy floods. How is this man so good and he hasn't even done anything?

Jace breaks our kiss, and sadness seeps in, only to be replaced by a need when he trails his mouth along my jaw, kissing down to my neck. Licking and sucking on my skin. My hips buck, his hardness hitting a certain sweet spot inside me. Having just met Jace, this is happening a lot sooner than I wanted.

My core tightens, anxiety melting into my chest. His lips press against the scars on my neck. I know he can feel them, there's no way he can't. But Jace keeps kissing me, his hips moving the tiniest bit against my aching core.

"Relax, Sunshine, just feel…" he murmurs against my skin .

Relax, feel…

I tilt my head up, allowing him better access to my neck, ignoring the ping of embarrassment about my scars. I move my hips in circles, rubbing my clit against his length. The pressure builds into my stomach; it's there, but I can't quite reach it.

"Blake," he growls. One hand leaves my hip, yanking the back of my hair, pulling me back. "You're a good girl."

Biting down on my bottom lip, pleasure shoots down my core. I need him to call me that again, and the smirk Jace has on his face tells me he knows what he just did.

"You like being called a good girl?" he whispers.

I try to nod but the grip he has on my hair doesn't allow me.

"Keep grinding that pussy on me, baby. Cum on me."

That's all it takes; the pressure takes over my body. My lips part, a moan bubbling inside me threatening to escape.

"Fuck," he groans, and something warm seeps through my pants as the orgasm rips through me. His grip loosens in my hair. My head drops to his shoulder as I try to calm my rapid breathing down. My legs still shake on either side of his thighs. I'm not sure if it's because this is the first time I've trusted another man with my body and he hasn't pushed me past my limits and just taken it from me, or because his fingertips run up and down my back. Sure, they're not under my clothes, but I can still feel him.

The softness, the uncertainty, but wanting to comfort me. I also want to cry. I trusted him enough to let loose, and while I'm upset that he didn't kiss me in the gas station as well as not comforting my feelings. I still handed him my body, and he took care of it.

What does that mean for the future?

The idea of a future with him causes my throat to close, and bile to rise in my throat. I can taste the acid rising, and it's not stopping.

Throwing myself off him, I jump towards the bathroom, barely having the time or energy to close it let alone lock it. I drop to my knees in front of the toilet just in time for everything that I ate today to come right back up .

The faint sound of the door opening and running water has me shooing him away, hoping Jace will listen to me. I don't need him to see me throwing up and embarrassing myself any more than I already have.

I don't know what's worse, the fact I just had the most mind-blowing orgasm from someone else and now I'm throwing up, or the fact he's witnessing all this and rubbing circles into my back.

"It's okay, I got you," he whispers soothingly. I want to scream at him that's it not okay, none of this can be okay.

Not when another wave of nausea passes through me, and my head is basically touching the water in the toilet. I want to die here.

"Blake," he mumbles. I shake my head, not wanting him to comfort me. "Honey, you're okay, look at me," he voices, leaving no room for argument. I'm not even sure I should argue with Jace, not that it's stopped me before.

Glancing up, I look at him through my lashes, my cheeks flaming red from embarrassment. I swear I can feel the acid rising in my throat again.

"Breathe for me. I need you to take a deep breath in. You're panicking and making yourself get sick," he says.

I didn't realize I was even crying until his thumb brushed against my cheek. The small action only makes me cry harder. How much more freaking embarrassing can I get?

"Come on, love, let's get your teeth brushed and into bed." Jace stands at once, helping me to my feet. I don't think too much about it as he helps me to the sink. Producing a toothbrush, he squeezes some toothpaste on it before handing it over. Keeping my eyes down, I brush my teeth, doing the best I can to not look like a complete fool. I mean who cares what you look like while brushing your teeth? It's good hygiene. Yet, my cheeks are tomato red, flushing down to my neck. My scar in view for his eyes to see, and there's no way I can just pull my hood up without him noticing.

Closing my eyes, I bend down, spitting the foam out before rinsing my mouth. I don't look at Jace as he leads me to the bed, picking the covers up from the floor. My eyes are drawn to the wrinkled sheets …

"Stop thinking so much," Jace mumbles beside me. "Take your sweatshirt off, Blake."

I snap my head toward him, eyes widening before my hands move toward those scissors in my pocket. If he thinks he's just going to make me cum and then I'll just lay down for him to have his way, he's dead wrong.

"You're going to get comfortable, and I know you hate those sweatshirts. So, take it off, and let's get some sleep before we have to leave early again." He chuckles before he heads towards his duffle bag. Dropping his pants, I stand there shocked, not only that I'm seeing his bare ass, but that he has no shame at all. Don't men usually get awkward about their asses being out in the open?

"Blake, drop your sweatshirt. I'm not going to tell you again." He sighs, pulling on another pair of boxer briefs.

Biting my bottom lip, I can't look anywhere but the ground while I pull it over my head. Twisting the fabric in between my fingers. I can feel Jace suddenly standing near me, his large form hovering over me.

"Get in bed, love." Jace grabs my sweatshirt from my hand, placing it off to the side. I scoot to the side, lying back, and I pull the covers up to my chin. Jace crawls into bed beside me, placing the whiteboard I hadn't even noticed he picked up in between us. I'm confused about how we went from arguing that he hadn't kissed me, to him doing more to me than I'd thought possible. Then I'm throwing up everything inside me, to now, just lying in bed together?

Grabbing the marker and whiteboard, I scribble out a question. I'm not sure I want to know, but I have to.

How'd you know I was freaking out? I might be sick.

Handing the board over, Jace flicks the side lamp on, squinting when the light shines into the room. Reading over what I said, Jace tilts his head over to me before erasing it and handing the board over. "There are signs. You haven't eaten in hours so it couldn't have been food poisoning. You're not around anyone but me and I feel fine. I open all your doors, so you haven't touched anything with germs, really." He sighs. "Plus, you just did something that I'm guessing you've never done before. And well, I'm piecing together you have a past. "

I nod before I can think. Sure, we all have a past. And I'm gathering Jace's is dark like mine.

How'd you know what to do? I write on the board.

"I have an old friend that used to have panic attacks a lot, still has them sometimes, but not nearly as bad… Hey, no need to get jealous, love. You're the only woman in my life." He smiles scooping the back of my head up and dragging me to his side.

"It's okay to panic, just don't let it control you," he whispers, rubbing circles into my back.

I don't say anything, swallowing the panic bubbling inside. I take a calming deep breath, listening to Jace's steady heartbeat. I fall asleep before I know it.

"This is our last night. We have about an hour left," Jace announces.

Using the side button, I move the seat back up, and stretch my arms out, yawning. Between traveling, being attacked, and sleeping in hotel beds, I'm ready for a normal bed. Hopefully alone…or with Jace.

"Think we can hold off on snacks? When we arrive, I can get dinner started," Jace asks pulling into the gas station.

Nodding, I unclick my seatbelt as soon as he pulls up to a gas pump.

"Blake," he warns .

Rolling my eyes, I sit back and wait. It's annoying that he demands to open every single door, including the passenger. Ever since I had a panic attack about letting myself go for one moment, he's been nicer, if that's even possible.

Jace walks around, opening my door, holding his hand out for me. Placing my hand in his, I step out.

"You know, you keep rolling your eyes at me and I might have to do something about that," he smirks, dragging me into him.

I bite down on my bottom lip to stop myself from smiling. It's becoming easier and more natural around him.

"And biting that lip, you gotta stop that."

Jace bends forward, planting his lips on mine. He's careful and soft, ready to guard me. Each time he kisses me it's better than the last, probably due to my lack of experience. When I part my lips, wanting more, Jace wastes no time tangling his tongue with mine. Groaning into my mouth, my fingers flex around his shirt, reaching on my tippy toes.

Jace pulls back slowly. "You're insatiable," he says, pressing his forehead against mine.

I don't want to stop but I know we have to. We're in public for one, and two, I just want to get to wherever we're going.

I walk beside Jace as he heads inside, paying for the gas, and I stand by him as he finishes up with the gas pump. Once he's done, I follow behind, giving the car a distasteful look. Before, I didn't care for road trips, didn't mind them. Tobias and I would travel from New York down to North Carolina all the time. Yet, traveling across the country and into Canada has my anxiety raising my blood pressure, and I can't sit still much longer.

"Alright, one more hour." Jace laughs pulling out of the gas station.

Folding my legs, I reach down, grabbing the whiteboard.

Can you tell me where we're going now?

Flipping the board over, Jace glances between it and the road.

"Juneau. It's a small town, it's secluded—a good place to just lie low for a while. "

A while. That's because back to reality, Italian Mafia are after me. None of my family will even consider running away. Where has that gotten any of them? Aunt Salem ran away from Uncle Zane and got hurt. Aunt Aziza ran away from Uncle Killian when she was pregnant and ended up in an accident. Then my stupid brother decided to take his boyfriend, Gabriel, and…

"Shove it in!" they scream.

I feel it. I feel everything they do to me. As much as I cry and beg, they never stop. I want to be numb. I want it all to stop.

Why did they leave us? Why haven't they found us yet?

"Fuck, that's a damn pretty sight!" they holler.

Why am I not numb enough? Why do I feel?

The leather belt whips against my back, breaking my skin open. I can feel the blood running down my sides, some trailing down between my ass cheeks.

"Someone make her scream!"

Don't they know I'm screaming inside? Don't they see me?

Another flick of his belt rips into my lower back, next to my ass. My body tenses, and my nails dig into my palm, blood coating my hands. I don't know how I have any blood left.

"Fuck her again, that'll make her scream."

Everything around me falls silent. The only thing I hear is the unbuckling of someone's belt, and the zipper. The steel cart I lay on moves as whoever it is climbs up behind me. He wastes no time before using my blood to lube his cock up, shoving inside me once more.

"Fuck," Henry grunts.

It's always Henry. He's the only one who does this to me. He thinks after I stopped screaming the first time that raping me was going to make me start again. When it didn't, they decided it was their mission to see who could break me. I was already broken; they just didn't realize it. They were all too dumb.

"Someone cover her mouth!" Henry orders.

I don't get a chance to turn my head, to try and fight before a cloth of some sort is placed over my mouth and nose, restricting my air. My body convulses, the table rattling between Henry moving inside me and my body jerking.

"Shit…shit," Henry moans.

My eyes start to roll into the back of my head, and my brain goes fuzzy. Henry's grunts echo around my head, and the cloth is moved just in time for the bile to rise in my throat, spilling all over the floor. It's too late before darkness invades my vision. Another whip on my shoulder blades is the last thing I feel before passing out.

"Blake!"

I jerk back, slamming my body against the door. My eyes snap over. Jace. His blue eyes study me, and I hate it.

I shake my head, not wanting to hear his voice, not wanting him to comfort me. I'm nothing. I'm just a bomb waiting to go off. I don't want or need Jace to tell me he's here, that he understands my panic.

No one understands. My family didn't, and Jace isn't special. He doesn't. I don't care if he once helped an old friend who had panic attacks. Jace clouds my head, toying with the idea that something could be real with him. It's a lie. I'm a joke to him. I'm a damn job. I can't be anything else.

Even if I wanted more. I'm the mafia princess of the Russians. Dad would never allow me to be with someone that's not in the mafia. No one would be willing to get into bed with me. Especially not Jace.