A scream wakes me, hurtling me upright in bed.
âHarley?â Zackâs here, heâs pulling at my hands that are clawing at the bedding, trying to untangle myself.
It was me.
Iâm screaming.
âHarley. Itâs all right.â 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.
Zackâs 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.
âIâm so sorry,â I whisper, covering my mouth with my fingertips. âItâs been so long since thatâs happened.â
He wipes my hair from my face. Itâs stuck in place by the thin layer of sweat.
âItâs all right. You were having a nightmare. It happens.â He tucks the last bit of hair behind my ear and cups my cheek, drawing my face toward his. âItâs all right. Youâre okay.â
I take a shaky breath and nod.
âIâm okay.â I agree. Iâm here. I survived.
The guilt crushes me.
âHarley. Look at me.â His voice hardens. His grip on my cheek tightens. âLook at me.â
I blink. Arenât I? No. Iâm staring at the headboard over his head. Still lost in the fog of my miserable past. Iâll never outrun it. It drowns me even when I sleep.
I move my eyes to his and blink.
âIâm sorry,â I say again.
He frames my face with both hands, holding me firmly.
âYou have nothing to be sorry for.â His chin lowers. âItâs no wonder, after everything you told me tonight. Of course youâd have a nightmare.â 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 weâd finished talking, it was nearly three in the morning. Iâd asked if he wanted to just sleep here instead of going back to his motel.
âIâm glad you stayed,â I say, after silent moments pass. âSometimes the nightmares turn into panic attacks once Iâm awake.â
He lightly pets my cheek.
âAre you having one now?â
I shake my head, bumping into his chin.
âNo.â I sigh and wrap my arms around him. âIâm all right. Itâs gone now.â
âWhatâs gone?â
âThe memory.â I take a deep breath. âOr the nightmare. Iâm not sure anymore. It gets all muddled.â
He runs a hand up and down my arm.
âProbably why they never got close to finding the guy. I canât be relied on. When my memories donât line up with Momâs, it makes it harder.â
His eyebrows knit together.
âYour memory isnât your fault. The police have plenty of resources at their disposal. They shouldnât have had to rely on your recollection.â He tilts his head.
âMaybe, 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 werenât working it anymore.â
âSpecial Agent? Sheâs FBI?â
âYeah. Itâs a kidnapping case, so the FBI took it.â
âWhenâs the last time you talked to her?â
I think for a beat. âTwo years ago? Maybe longer. But I think Mom calls her every year, around now, to see if theyâve made any progress.â
âYou and your mom donât talk much about your sister, do you?â
âItâs better when we donât. The guiltâ¦it hurts us both so much. We donât even celebrate my birthday anymore. Quinn was my twin.â
He goes to ask another question, but pauses. A smile creeps across his lips.
âHarley, your twin sisterâs name is Quinn? You two were Harley Quinn?â He laughs. Itâs been so long since I heard such a beautiful sound, and while talking about my sister.
The weight of the nightmare eases.
I canât help but laugh a little too.
âMy dad was a huge fan of comic books.â I shrug. âMom let him name us since we werenât boys.â I roll my eyes, but itâs sarcastic. Dad never once treated us anything other than his prized daughters. He wouldnât have traded us for anything.
âI bet the two of you did the name proud.â He brushes his fingertips along my cheek. âYou should still celebrate your birthday,â he says firmly.
âIf the guyâs ever caught. Maybe then. But now, it just feels wrong. I donât want to hurt Mom any more than sheâs been hurt.â I frown and tap my temple. âI told you; Iâm broken.â
He pulls my hand down to my lap.
âYouâre not broken.â He rests his hand on my knee and plays with the hem of my nightshirt. âIâm going to help you.â
âHelp me?â I laugh a little. âHow?â
âWeâre going to find out who did this to you.â
He sounds so confident in his statement. Iâm not sure I want to think too hard about it. âThe police, the FBI did try.â Not too hard, I think. But I was so caught up in my own mess, Iâm not sure Iâm remembering that, or anything, right.
âThey failed. You canât always depend on them.â He runs his hand up my leg, just above my knee. âBut you can always depend on me. Understand?â His tone hardens again.
âYouâve just met me, why do you want to help?â
He leans in. âSometimes 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?â
âYeah?â
âThatâs us, Harley. Weâre two pieces that fit together. And when it happens, you donât argue with it.â His hand slides higher up my leg and I tense.
âZack.â 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.
Itâs better he learns now.
This is who I am.
Broken.
âWhat is this?â He shoves my nightshirt up and sits up more so he can get a better look at the mess Iâve made. Reaching over, he flicks on the side table lamp and all of the scars are exposed.
âDonât,â 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.
âDid you do this?â He levels me with a hard stare and for a moment I think heâs going to toss me off his lap and storm out. It wouldnât be the first time. Who wants to look at this mess, much less touch it?
âHarley. No lies, remember.â He doesnât so much as blink. âDid you do this?â
I nod.
His eyes soften, and he returns his stare to my legs.
âYou were trying to make the pain on the inside come out.â He traces a long scar. Itâs raised, and uglier than the others. Iâd cut too deep. I almost needed to get stitches for that one.
âI just wanted the pain to match.â I cover his hand with mine, but he shakes it off.
âIâm not done looking.â He shifts me so that he can see the other leg better, the outside of my thigh.
âItâs ugly. I know.â
His gaze snaps up to me.
âNothing about you is ugly, Harley. And donât say it again.â Thereâs a warning there, and Iâm not going to tempt it.
When heâs finished his inspection, he moves me from his lap so Iâm 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.
âFrom now on, you donât do this.â 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 itâs painful, itâs pleasureful, I canât tell the difference. And the longer I stare into his beautiful eyes, the bigger the bubble gets.
âHarley,â he snaps my name until I meet his eyes again. âYou donât ever do this again, understood? If you need this, you tell me.â
I blink.
âTell me you understand.â
âI understand,â I say, because I do.
His mouth crashes down over mine. Itâs 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.
âIâm the only one who gets to hurt you, Harley. Do you understand?â
I press my hands against his chest. âI understand, Zack.â
âWhen itâs too much, you tell me.â He runs the back of his hand across my cheek. âIâll make it better. Iâll make it the same for you.â
âYes, Zack.â I nod and lean into him, pressing my lips against his. At first, Iâm sure heâs going to push me away. But he doesnât.
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 heâll float away if I donât.
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.
âThese panties need to go,â he mutters against my lips. âI want to feel you, Harley. All of you.â He leans up on his forearm. A tingle is left on my scalp where he held my hair.
âYes,â I agree. I want that too. No. I need it.
âIf you take them off, Iâm going to fuck you.â He says this so softly, I almost miss how threatening it sounds.
âYes.â
âYou can say no.â He palms my cheek. âYou should probably say no, because once I have you. Iâm never going to let you go.â
âYou say that like it should be bad, but it doesnât feel bad.â I nibble on my lip.
âI donât ever want to make you feel bad.â
âOnly when I need you to?â
His lips kick up at the edges. âOnly when you beg me to.â
My core melts at the way he emphasizes his statement.
âYouâre basically a stranger.â
He nods. âBut it doesnât feel like that.â
âNo,â I agree. âIt doesnât. It feels like Iâve known you forever.â How can that be when weâve only met days ago? And yet, Iâve told him things Iâve never told anyone before.
And heâs 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.
âHas any other man touched you here?â He reaches between us and cups my sex. My panties are already wet, soaked through from him being so close, so wonderfully sexy.
âYes.â I frown. âIâm twenty-five, Zack, of course Iâve had sex.â
He arches an eyebrow. âWhen.â Not a question, a demand.
âIn college.â Is he going to get up and leave now? Iâm dirty.
He gives a hard nod. âAnd youâve always said yes?â
âNo. Not the first time.â I lower my gaze.
âHey, give me your eyes.â His voice is soft, caressing. âNot your fault.â
I nod. âI know.â
âGood.â
I smile a little. He doesnât think Iâm dirty.
âYour panties are still on.â He nudges me with a kiss to my chin, then my cheek, before taking my mouth again.
âOh.â I laugh when he goes back to staring at me. âRight.â 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 Iâm 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.
âIs this all right?â he asks, leaning down to kiss my neck.
âYes.â I nod, bumping into his chin again. He grins at me.
âOpen your legs for me, little bird. Open wide.â He pulls my nightshirt up until my breasts are exposed. Leaning down, he plucks one nipple with his teeth.
I hiss because heâs scraped the sensitive skin, and it burns.
âHmm, I like that sound. Letâs do it again.â 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.
âYouâre already so wet for me, so hot.â He reaches between us and strokes his cock, rubbing the head through my folds until heâs coated with my juices.
âDonât tease me, Zack,â I chastise, arching upward at him.
He arches a brow. âNow Iâm going to tease you even longer.â
âNo. Please.â I shake my head. âI need you.â I bite my lip. âI need you to touch me. Please.â
âSince you asked so sweetly.â He trails one finger up through my pussy lips, collecting my arousal. âLike that?â He brings his finger to his mouth and sucks the wetness off. âSo sweet.â
He lines his cock up with my entrance.
âI can be gentle if you want.â His jaw is tight. I think it might hurt him if he has to hold back, and I know it will hurt me.
âNo.â I shake my head. âIâm not going to break.â
He grins. âThatâs my girl.â And in the next second he plows into me until heâs 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.
âGive it a second, but only a second.â He licks just below my ear. âFuck, you feel so good, little bird. So fucking good.â He slowly draws back, just until I think heâs about to leave me, and then he thrusts forward again.
Itâs easier this time.
The third time is even better. And by the fourth thrust, I have my legs wrapped around his flanks.
âSo tight,â he growls as he continues to thrust into me.
âIâm sorry.â
âNever be sorry.â He bites my cheek, just a little, before he kisses me. âNever be sorry. Just be you.â 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, itâs agony until he thrusts forward again.
âOh. Zack. Please.â I dig my fingertips into his shoulders. His muscles work below my touch, so hard, and so thick.
âPlease, what? Tell me what you need.â Heâs breathless as he kisses my neck, my cheek. âIâll give you anything.â
âOh!â I tighten. My stomach trembles, along with my thighs.
âYes, sweet girl. Unravel for me. Give yourself over to me.â He bites down hard on my breast as he thrusts harder into me.
Again, thereâs screaming. Only this time, I know itâs coming from me. My throat feels like itâs going to split with the force of it. But itâs nothing compared to the intensity of my orgasm ripping through my body. I can barely breathe. My mind blanks.
All Iâm left with are waves of pleasure crashing into me, carrying me away, before leaving me limp on the shore.
âFuck, baby, that was beautiful.â He kisses my cheeks. âPull your legs back a little.â
I spread my legs more, taking him more fully. Iâm tender but itâs perfect.
âOh fuck, yes, like that.â 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.
âAre you all right?â
âNever better.â I reach up and bite his shoulder. âAre you all right?â
He flashes a lopsided grin. âNo complaints.â
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.
âAre you on the pill?â he asks.
âNo.â I shrink back into myself. âIâ¦I canât have children. What they did to meâ¦Iâm too broken inside.â
His jaw sets.
âThey will pay, Harley. For everything they did to you, your sister and your mother. They will all fucking pay.â A more sincere vow, Iâve never heard.
âGood.â I smile a little. Operating under the assumption theyâd 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.
âItâs almost morning.â 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.
âI like the idea of me drying on your skin,â he says.
I smile into the dim room.
âI do too.â
âThink you can sleep some more?â He pushes my hair behind my ear and kisses me just below my earlobe.
I yawn.
âI think so.â
âGood. We have a busy day tomorrow and you need your rest.â
âWhat are we doing tomorrow?â
âMonster hunting.â
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