When I finally feel my body again, he lowers me back onto the bed. My thighs tremble as he does one more swipe of his tongue before releasing me.

  I feel the bed shift as he moves off of me. The sound of his sweats dropping to the floor faintly touches my ears seconds later, before his warm body presses against me again.

  “About the number you wore that wasn’t mine…” His low voice warms my neck as he bends down close. “The only number that this body is to touch from now on is mine.” He sinks his lips into my skin and sucks hard.

  “I…I won’t wear anyone else,” I whisper.

  “Good.” He flips me over and lifts my ass in the air. My elbows land on the pillow as the restraints pull at my wrists. It’s tight but doesn’t hurt as the silk rubs against my skin. His palm glides over my ass before a sting has me gasping at the contact of his hand.

  He rubs the pain away, and I quickly realize that there’s pleasure right behind it as my body responds to the thrill of actually being punished by him.

  “That was for wearing Hayes’s jersey,” he says with a tight, restrained voice.

  I hear his breathing grow more ragged.

  This is turning him on.

  Which, in turn, is turning me on even more.

  I feel the sting of another slap as I cry out, my body moving forward from the force of it. He soothes away the pain as I feel him hard against my backside.

  “And that,” he says, panting, “was because I’m a selfish bastard and wanted to see your gorgeous ass turn red at my hand again.” His fingers swipe through my center, and I hear him groan as I push my ass back for more. “I was hoping you loved that as much as I did. Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs, and I whimper at his words that are making my body become his slave.

  Reaching over me, he unties my wrists and removes my blindfold. I blink as my eyes adjust to the small light coming from the lamp.

  “You might want to hang onto something for this, sunshine,” he chuckles darkly as I curl my hand around the top edge of the mattress just as he fills me deep in one thrust.

  My body quickly wraps around him, welcoming him in like it’s starving for his touch.

  “Fuck,” he groans, stretching out the word and locking his hands on my hips in a tight grip. “You’re the one person who has the ability to make me lose control.”

  He starts moving inside me, and I white-knuckle the sheets as my body happily takes him in as his thrusts become more demanding.

  His hand moves to my swollen clit as he roughly rubs the sensitive skin, putting my body into a frenzy. He knows exactly what to do to get me falling over the edge.

  “Knox,” I whimper, pushing back into him and taking him harder, wanting to crawl inside him if I could and have him locked to me forever.

  “I know…sunshine. God, do I know,” he growls.

  He pinches my clit hard on my next breath as another orgasm rips through me until all coherent thoughts leave at once. All I feel is him and a complete euphoria that could never be put into words.

  He rides out my orgasm before pulling out and releasing on top of me. Warmth hits my bottom and spreads to my lower back as my name slips through his lips on a deep groan.

  I sink into the pillows, not even sure at this point if I’m still alive. He’s panting hard against my back, and I look up when I feel his finger slide over my back in a pattern, smearing his cum across my skin as he goes.

  I make out a number two, and then another number two follows before he drops his hand to his side.

  “Did you just write your number on my back with your cum?” I ask, bewildered.

  “Yeah, I did,” he grins like a devil on steroids. “Just trying it out.”

  “And how does it look?”

  “Like you were fucking made to wear it,” he says, grinning wider before he gets off the bed to grab a towel.

  I watch his fine ass walk to the bathroom before smiling into the sheets. His number feels like a brand on my skin, and I know without a doubt that he’s right.

  I was made to fucking wear it.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  KNOX

  I open the door to the trailer I once lived in that holds my deepest demons sealed within its thin walls. The smell of stale cigarettes and booze hits my nostrils, causing a wave of nausea to rear its ugly head as memories rise to the surface.

  “Are you sure you want to come in? It won’t take long.” I turn back to Savi, who insisted on coming with me.

  She takes my hand in hers and squeezes it tight, her blue eyes filled with determination.

  “I’m coming in. You don’t have to face this alone. Not anymore.”

  Sighing, I open the door wider and step inside, knowing there is no use fighting her. Deep down, I’m thankful she’s here with me. The place seems less powerful over me with her by my side.

  A small gasp leaves her body as she takes in the small shithole.

  “I told you it was bad.”

  “You lived here?”

  I look around at the faded carpet and the peeling paint on the walls. Boxes of takeout food sit on the counter, and empty bottles litter the stained couch and recliner. Other than the trailer being older with a little wear and tear, the place hasn’t changed much since I lived here.

  “We lost our home by the time I turned thirteen, so yeah,” I shrug. “This was home sweet home for five years before I could graduate and get the hell out of here.”

  “Did Miles know?”

  “No, I never brought him here. I knew he would insist I come live with him, and I was too guilt-ridden to leave. I felt I deserved this. I was too wrapped up in my own personal hell to admit that I could be wrong,” I sigh. “You’re the first person I’ve let see this dump.” I glance at the wall that still has the hole in it from his fist that I dodged.

  “Once I left and started to get a paycheck from playing hockey, I sent him money each month to ease the guilt of him living like this because I still felt responsible. I even tried to get him to move out and offered to pay for rehab, but the stubborn ass refused to get help.”

  “He was an alcoholic, Knox. You went beyond what most people would do after what he put you through. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want it.”

  “I know, but I felt like I owed it to my mom to try,” I say quietly before taking a deep breath and focusing on what needs to be done, so we can leave.

  I hate being here.

  “Let’s see what we can find, so we can get the hell out of here.” I walk to his bedroom, and it’s not any better in here. It’s a wonder this place didn’t get condemned.

  “What are we looking for?” She moves to the dresser and opens the top drawer.

  “Anything from my mom. I have a couple of pictures I took when I left, but I was in too much of a hurry to fight him over anything. My only thought was getting as far away as possible from here,” I say, opening his nightstand drawer and rummaging through the junk.

  “Anything of his that you want?”

  “No,” I quickly say, my face turning hard as stone. “Once I leave here, the whole place can burn for all I care. I’ll see what the property is worth and donate the money and anything left in his bank accounts to my charity. This is a tie to my past, and I want it closed.”

  “I think I found something,” she says, pulling out a box from under the bed with my name written on it.

  Walking over to her, I lift the box and set it on the mattress, opening the lid.

  Confusion hits me as I stare at newspaper articles about me. Frowning, I sift through them and see my whole life staring back at me. Every interview I’ve ever had, every game I’ve ever played, leading up to now, is here.

  “There’s another one,” she whispers, pulling out another box from under the bed. Lifting the lid, I see my early childhood memories that my mom must have kept. Old trophies and awards, pictures of me and her with the team and at practices—everything tucked away in scrapbooks and photo albums.

  I trace the picture of my mom’s face with my finger. This was taken right before she died, and her smile is still the brightest I’ve ever seen as she hugs me in a photo after our winning game.

  “You look just like her. She’s beautiful,” Savi says softly, looking at the picture in my hand.

  “She is,” I whisper. “I don’t understand.” I shake my head and put the picture back in the box. “Why did he keep these? He kept all these memories going after Mom died. This one here,” I say, picking up one of the newspaper articles on top, “was from the game last week. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I don’t know. It’s hard to get inside the head of an addict. Maybe under all that pain, he was numbing with alcohol, and he felt guilt for how he treated you after she died. He knew your mom would have kept these, so he did it for her. Under all that hate and resentment toward you, there was a part of him that loved you and was proud.”

  “Cutting up newspaper articles doesn’t begin to make up for what he put me through. It’s not enough to forgive him.” I throw the article back in the box and shut the lid.

  “There’s no excuse for the abuse he gave you, but forgiving someone isn’t about excusing them for what they did. It’s about you and not giving them the power anymore to hurt you. I finally had to forgive Todd,” she says quietly, and I whip my eyes to her. Even the name sends rage through my body.

  “Not to excuse his actions,” she says quickly, “but to let go of the resentment toward him. I was letting the anger of what he did eat away at me. I forgave him so that I could move on. His actions that night were choices he made, not me. I wasn’t about to live the rest of my life being angry at something that someone else chose to do.”

  “Did it work?” I ask quietly.

  Wrapping her arms around my waist, I automatically do the same, bringing her in close.

  “It doesn’t happen overnight, but once I decided to forgive him, the anger eventually went away, and I felt more at peace. The pain and fear took a little bit longer, but I’m happy now. Very, very happy,” she smiles, and her infectious joy has me smiling back.

  “Maybe I’ll try this whole forgiving thing at some point. Don’t hold your breath with Todd, though. That anger got me through a lot of fights in hockey, and feeling rage toward him is something I don’t think will ever go away.”

  “We’ll do baby steps with that one,” she chuckles softly. “With your dad, though, I’ll be here when you are ready.”

  “I know.” Kissing her soft lips briefly before burying my face in her hair, I breathe her in deep like my own personal haven. “I am happy. I want you to know that. You make me happy.”

  “I know.” I hear the smile in her voice and love that I make her happy, too.

  “Let’s get what we need so we can get out of here,” I say, pulling back. “This place is like a creepy horror movie that I don’t want to be part of anymore.”

  “Agreed,” she laughs. “Where’s your bedroom? Should we look in there?”

  “You already saw it. That nasty ass couch pulls out into a glorified bed,” I snort.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Her eyes turn to slits, and I chuckle at the fire that rises in her eyes to defend me.

  “Wish I were. I spent all my time anyway at the rink after school, so all I did was sleep here.”

  “I’m surprised your dad paid for your hockey lessons and games,” she huffs while throwing his clothes aside in the closet and making sure nothing in there is worth keeping.

  Maybe we both need to forgive my dad, I muse as her anger burns brighter the more she sees of my past.

  “He didn’t. Before my mom died, she talked to the league about her situation, and they helped her get a few scholarships for me, and the rest she saved up herself. She made sure I had a place in the league until graduation. From there, I was lucky enough to skip the junior league and get picked up by the ECHL, which led me to the Devils shortly after.”

  Her eyes soften at the mention of my mom. “I love your mom more and more. I wish I had been able to meet her.”

  “She would have loved you,” I say, feeling the truth deep in my bones.

  “How could I not love her. She gave me you,” she smiles softly before moving to another shelf.

  Part of me wonders to this day if all the prayers I did after she died, of wanting to feel loved, were answered, and she sent me Savi. I like to think she had a hand in bringing us together. Deep down, something tells me that I’m right.

  We spend the next hour packing up what little items we find of my mom and any childhood memories I had worth keeping before I shut the trunk of my car.

  Opening the door for Savi, she slides in, and I walk to the driver’s side, stopping to look one more time at the trailer.

  Usually, the sight of it drags out the anger and guilt, wrapping around my neck like chains until I can’t breathe, but today they hang loose.

  It’s the same quiet release I felt a few nights ago when I threw my dad’s ashes out into the white-capped waves. He had pushed every single person in his life away, so there was no point in having a service, but when it came down to leaving his remains or picking them up, it wasn’t an easy decision for me to make.

  A huge part of me just wanted to let the funeral home dispose of him, let him become someone else’s problem, or shoving him in a closet to rot didn’t sound so bad either.

  In the end, I chose the ocean.

  I waited until the next storm and stood on the shore while the wind tried to knock me down. Waves clawed at the sand as I opened the urn and gave him to the raging waters.

  No prayer.

  No goodbye.

  Just releasing my monster into the hands of something far more powerful to decide his fate.

  My mom deserved the beautiful side of the ocean.

  My father deserved its hell.

  Pulling my eyes away and not giving this place another thought, I open the door and slide in next to my future, shutting the door on my past and leaving it behind as I drive away.

  Looking at the printouts my assistant sent over, I set them on the counter as a black fur ball jumps onto the island and looks at me warily. I’ve been giving Freya her space to get used to me, and so far, she hasn’t wanted a single thing to do with me.

  “Hey girl,” I say softly. “Does this mean you are starting to trust me?”

  Her blue eyes assess me with caution as she walks around my papers with her tail moving gracefully before she sits down in front of me.

  “It’s not easy to trust people when you’ve been hurt before, is it?” Putting my arms on the counter, I lean down and get eye level with her, not quite believing I’m talking to a cat. For some reason, though, I understand her. I’m not too fond of most people either, and can definitely relate to the not-trusting part.

  “I’m going to try something here, and I would really appreciate it if you didn’t scratch or bite me,” I chuckle softly. “Savi seems to love both of us, and since you two are a packaged deal, I really need us to get along because I have no plans of ever leaving her.”

  I slowly hold out my hand to her face, letting her smell me first. Her tail swishes by her body, but she doesn’t hiss or scratch the hell out of me, so I take it as a good sign.

  “I’m going to pet you now,” I tell her as if she can understand what I’m saying. Savi is clearly rubbing off on me, as I find myself enjoying this conversation.

  My hand moves slowly to her head, and when she leans into my palm, I take it as permission to rub behind her ears. A low purring sound fills the room, causing me to smile.

  “See, that’s not so bad, is it?” I stroke her fur and smile. “You really are a beautiful girl,” I murmur. Her blue eyes look soulful, as if they hold the secrets of the universe in their depths.

  I hear the front door open and look up as Savi walks in. She catches the two of us together, and a bright smile lights up her face.

  “Somebody has become friends,” she grins, setting her bag on the small table by the door before walking over to me. Freya hops off the counter and saunters away, deciding our moment is over.

  “We are getting there,” I smile as my eyes roam over her. Her hair is in a loose bun today at the nape of her neck, and the pink scrubs that have easily become my favorite drape over that sexy body of hers.

  I can’t help the way my heart speeds up whenever she’s near me, as I’m flooded with warmth when I watch the light catch her eyes when they land on me.

  “You’re home early,” she smiles.

  “We had a light practice today because of the game tomorrow, and I skipped the gym. I thought I would do cardio here. I know you love to run, so I thought I would join you tonight.”

  “I would love that,” she says before furrowing her brows. “How did you know I love to run?”

  “I know everything about you,” I smile, grabbing the string of her scrubs and pulling her to me. “I have a confession to make, and I don’t know if you are going to like it or not. It’s been bothering me these last few days, and I don’t want any secrets anymore between us.”

  “Okay,” she says slowly. I can see the flash of uncertainty in her eyes, and I’m praying she understands why I did it.

  “After graduation, when I left, I needed to know you were safe. I know you had your brothers, but for my own peace of mind, I had a few extra people watch you.” I hold my breath as my words sink in.

  “What do you mean, you had a few people watching me?” Her brows furrow as she peers up at me.

  “Just a few guys I knew. I paid them to call me if they ever spotted you at a party and to check in on you from time to time.”

  “You paid them?”

  “People do better if they get something in return,” I shrug. “Didn’t you ever wonder why I was at that party that night and how I knew you might be in trouble?”

  “I just always assumed it was the right place, right time kind of thing.”

  “You know parties aren’t my thing. I wasn’t there by accident,” I say, shaking my head. “My friend Ben called me to tell me you were there. I just happened to be home that week, so I was able to show up. I would have called Miles if I were still up in New York. God only knows what would have happened if all four of your brothers had shown up. I still to this day don’t know how you got me to stop from killing that motherfucker,” I mutter under my breath, refusing to let him enter our space again as I reel in my anger.