Maya Banks - Sweet Possession

“Sweet mother of God,” Connor swore. “Lyric, you were just a child. A terrified little girl who’d already been horribly abused by the son of a bitch. Do you think your mother would have wanted you to die with her? Do you think she wouldn’t have wanted you to hide?”

“I just know that I did nothing and I traded my life for hers. I could have run. I could have gone to a neighbor’s. I could have done something,” she finished with a sob. “Those three days were the worst of my life. I was alone in that house while she lay dead just feet away. Even after I knew he was gone, I couldn’t make myself leave my hiding place. I’ve never liked being alone since. It terrifies me.”

Connor gathered her close and turned her face up so he could kiss her forehead. He smoothed his hand over her hair and simply stroked as he willed some of the burning rage he felt on her behalf to calm.

“My testimony put him in prison for life. Because I was a minor and was so traumatized by the event, they sealed the records and I was born again, so to speak. New name. New life. No one knew of my past. Not even my string of foster parents. They only knew I had been sexually abused and my mother had died. I chose Lyric to honor my mother’s vision of my future. I was determined to become a singer for her.”

“And you did,” he said softly. “You became the best.”

She let out a pitiful laugh that sounded more like a sob. “No, not the best. I’ve lived my life afraid that someone would find out about my past.”

“Baby, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You were a victim.”

She shook her head adamantly. “I don’t want anyone to know. I’ve never told anyone. Except you . . . I couldn’t bear it to be splashed across all the papers and magazines.”

“Is that why you give them so much else to talk about?”

For a long moment she remained silent. “Maybe. I don’t know. That sounds like an excuse. I don’t always like the things I do, and yet I still make stupid choices. It’s sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy, I guess. I’ve tried so hard to project this give-a-shit attitude. Maybe I’m preparing for the day when someone does find out about my past. I don’t want anyone to ever see me that vulnerable.”

Did she have any idea how very vulnerable she sounded right now? Something inside him came loose and the ache in his chest intensified. He hurt for the child who’d suffered so much. He hurt for the young woman who still hurt, for whom those horrible days were relived on a daily basis.

“I didn’t want anyone to judge me. If I thought so badly of myself, how much worse would others feel about what I’d done?”

“Honey, you didn’t do anything,” he said gently. “You survived a horrible experience. How is that bad?”

When she didn’t answer, he once again tilted up her chin so she could see his eyes. “Lyric, I’m not judging you. I don’t think badly of you. I hurt for you. I’m angry as hell at the son of a bitch who terrorized you and took your mother from you. But I love you. Your past doesn’t change that. Love doesn’t come with conditions. It just . . . is.”

“No one but my mother has ever loved me,” she said quietly. “I don’t know how to react, Connor. I’m worried I’ll piss you off. Or maybe you’ll get tired of my stupidity. I’m worried I can’t give you what you need. What you deserve.”

He smiled and rubbed his cheek over her forehead. “Why don’t you let me worry about what I can handle?”

“How can you love me? You didn’t even like me at first.”

“If you’re asking me to explain how or why people fall in love, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I watched all my friends fall hard for the women in their lives. I secretly thought they were all morons. They completely lost their shit. I never understood it. Until now. Now I can see exactly what they were thinking and feeling. Because I’ve completely lost my shit over you.”

She laughed softly and buried her face in his neck. He could still feel the dampness on her cheeks and he cupped the back of her head, stroking and soothing away her grief.

“I want to be right for you, Connor. I want it so bad I ache.”

He kissed her again, compelled to keep touching her, to keep the link between them. “You are right for me, Lyric. Just as you are.”

She shifted a bit and snuggled deeper into his body as if seeking refuge. He wanted to be that refuge. Her safe place where she was protected from the world.

“You know what I’d like?” he asked softly.

“What?” she whispered back.

“I’d like for you to sleep with me. Just like this. You in my arms where I can hold you all night. And I’d like to wake up in the morning and have you be the first thing I see.”

She nodded sleepily. “I think I’d like that too.”

He smiled and reached behind him to turn off the lamp. Then he turned back to her and settled her against him once more. When he was satisfied that she was snuggled as tight as possible into his arms, he laid his cheek on the top of her head and processed everything she’d told him.

Lyric slipped into an exhausted sleep within moments of him turning off the light. But Connor stayed awake long into the night.

Connor awoke to the sound of his cell vibrating on the nightstand. He blew a strand of Lyric’s hair from his mouth and smiled at the fact she was draped across him like a blanket.

Her body was soft and warm and her cheek was pressed to his chest. Her upper body was covering him entirely and one leg was slung over his.

He could wake this way every morning and die a happy man in sixty years or so.

The phone quieted and then immediately started again. Connor cursed under his breath and eased his arm over so he could reach the phone.

“What?” he demanded in a quiet voice.

“Connor Malone? This is Lieutenant Donnelly. We spoke yesterday regarding R. J. Miller and Trent Carnes.”

Connor grimaced. It was awfully damn early in the morning to be calling with case updates. “Give me a second,” he murmured.

He disentangled himself from Lyric, who woke and stared up at him with sleep-clouded eyes. He leaned down to kiss her. “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay,” she mumbled.

He moved from the bed and walked across the room toward the bathroom so he wouldn’t disturb her.

“What do you have for me?” he asked the lieutenant.

“Your guys confessed. It was pretty pathetic really.”

“What the fuck were they trying to do?” Connor demanded.

“They saw the writing on the wall. They weren’t happy that Ms. Jones had started pulling away from them. Their words, not mine. They hatched this ridiculous plan to make it appear that there was a threat against her. Their hope was that they’d provide support and protection, thus making themselves invaluable to Ms. Jones.”

“What a bunch of dipshits,” Connor muttered. “What will happen to them?”

“We can’t hold them on much. The best option will be for Ms. Jones to take out a restraining order on them. We can arrest them for harassment, but they’ll likely be out on bail in less than a day, and no way is the DA going to pursue this beyond probation and maybe a little community service. They’ll plead out and be on their way before the ink is dry on the paperwork.”

“Figures. Thanks, Lieutenant. I appreciate your taking care of the matter.”

“Not a problem. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”

Connor hung up and then noticed he had a missed call from his dad. He winced. It had been several days since he’d talked to Pop, a fact that wouldn’t make the old man very happy.

“I hear there’s some serious bodyguarding going on over there and that you’ve taken a personal interest in a certain pop star’s body,” Pop rumbled as soon as he picked up the phone.

Connor shook his head. Trust gossip to have already reached his ears. “She’s the one, Pop.”

He could practically hear his dad grinning through the phone.

“Well, I’ll be damned. That’s great, son. You two got things worked out?”

Connor frowned and looked back toward the bed where Lyric was curled into a ball, her arm thrown over his pillow. “Not yet, but we’ll get there.”

“Good things shouldn’t be easy. You’ll work hard at it, and it’ll be all the sweeter for it.”

Connor shook his head. Pop was so full of shit. Good as gold, but he had something to say for every occasion.

“Bring her home for Sunday dinner. She should see what she’s getting into.”

Connor laughed. “We’ll get to that eventually. Right now we have more important fish to fry.”

Pop made a disgruntled sound. “What’s more important than my Sunday lasagna?”

“Faith and Gray have spoiled you by catering to your neuroses.”

“At least they eat with me every weekend. Well, when they can.”

“And I don’t?”

“Well, sure you do. But you’re single, and no single guy turns down free food. The test is when you have a beautiful woman at home as to whether you’ll give your old man the time of day anymore.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Like I’ll ever get rid of you, old fart.”

Pop’s raspy chuckle filled Connor’s ear. “Damn straight. I plan for you and Faith to visit me in the old folks’ home when I’m old and toothless.”

“You already are old and toothless.”

“Don’t make come over there and kick your ass.”

Connor laughed. “Okay, Pop. Let me go. Take care of yourself.”

“Will do. Give my love to Lyric and tell her welcome to the family.”

With a smile, Connor disconnected the call. He’d love nothing more than to welcome Lyric to his family, but he wasn’t going to get ahead of himself. Right now he was just happy Lyric hadn’t run the other direction when he’d expressed a desire for them to be together.