My knuckles ached. After my night with Jaden, I still had too much energy to dispel, though I had no idea how. Fighting with her always put me on edge, and while I had to be somewhat gentle with her, it wasn't required for the scumbags who owed me money.
Every now and then, when I was in the mood, I'd handle the debtors myself and take whatever pent-up rage and violence I'd been harboring out on them. Some survived, some didn't. Some were never the same again. If they happened to have the money, I might just break a bone here or there for making me wait. Interest didn't have to be in the form of money. It could also be in blood. And it was always at my discretion.
Scott would sometimes have too much fun with them, to the point I would applaud his creativity. The more blood he spilled, the more satisfied he seemed. He was a sick son of a bitch, and I loved him for it. But tonight wasn't about blood loss; it was more of a blunt force trauma kind of night.
I'd cracked three skulls in the last hour, each one worth about ten grand in comparison to their gambling debts from the underground poker parties—money I didn't give a shit about. I'd made that in an hour alone. I didn't hide from my urges to create pain; I didn't deny myself the enjoyment of instilling fear in others and then reminding them of why they had good cause to be afraid. It was exhilarating. Choosing whether to grant life or death and then act out that choice was an experience to behold.
My father had always taught me about the importance of life—that it was important to give and important to take. When their purpose was gone, they no longer held value and instantly became a liability. We didn't deal with liabilities—we eliminated them without hesitation. You didn't leave the family simply because of this principle. You might be granted leave to retire past a certain age, but if you were called upon—no matter the reason—your loyalty remained unquestionable. No one ever wanted to become a liability, yet I had granted one exception. The only liability worth all the trouble.
By the time we got back to the house, and I was satisfied, I couldn't help but look forward to finding Jaden naked and asleep in my bed. I wanted to feel her soft skin against mine, her solid tiny frame in my arms while her glossy hair draped over my shoulder. She had the ability to calm and enrage me at the same time; it was a dangerous combination, but feeling her against me was one of the best feelings in the world.
So when I passed the guards standing post at my bedroom door and opened it to find her not in my bed, irritation and a small amount of panic set in because she wasn't where I expected her to be. My eyes quickly scanned the room until I found her sitting on the floor in the moonlight by the window. Her pale naked skin practically glowed in the light, making her look like something straight from Heaven. With her red hair draped down her bare back, the light of the moon changed the hue of the colors, making them darker, almost blood-like. Beautiful.
She didn't turn around as I entered, but I had a strong feeling she knew I was there since I noticed her go hands move to wipe her face as she sniffled. She'd been crying again. Regarding her carefully, I kicked off my shoes by the couch and removed my blood-stained t-shirt, not wanting to taint her perfect skin.
"You should be in bed," I said as I approached her.
"Couldn't sleep." Her voice was quiet, reserved, submissive. She wouldn't be fighting me much anymore tonight. I'd successfully extinguished those flames again.
I moved to stand over her, my hands in the pockets of my jeans as I smirked down at her. "I fucked you for nearly three hours. How can you not sleep?"
She scoffed. "Because my mind is stronger than my body," she said.
And wasn't that the goddamn truth. Her mind was racing again. She was likely thinking thoughts she shouldn't be thinking, plotting, deliberating with herself about me and what to do with her life. She was still clinging to that resistance, and I was prepared for that fight, but sometimes, it pained me to know she was only making everything worse for herself.
On a drawn-out sigh, I sat down on the floor behind her, my legs stretched out on either side of hers and pulled her to my chest. She settled against me without protest, her chilled bare skin calming the heat in the center of my chest and warming hers.
"You're doing that thing again that you shouldn't be doing," I said softly in her ear, her hair tickling my jawline. My hands rested on my bent knees, effectively caging her body in mine, but she didn't react, just relaxed as best she could.
"Are you going to punish me for thinking about snow?" she asked quietly, sniffling again.
I furrowed my brows. "Snow?"
"Yes, snow."
"And why does snow have a place in your mind right now?"
"I was thinking about how much I miss it."
"Mmm," I said, resting my lips against her hair while my knuckles brushed over the skin of her arm. I didn't know if I liked where this conversation was going. "What brought this on?"
"It's Christmas next week," she announced.
"I know," I murmured against her skin, as if it was something I was supposed to care about.
We didn't often celebrate Christmas in my house after my father passed. He was the only one who pushed to get all of us together, and now that he was gone, my brothers and I just stuck to our own busy schedules. Dan celebrated with his wife's family, Dom partied in Vegas, and I was too busy running everything else to give a shit about a fucking holiday. I did give my staff one hell of a Christmas bonus, though. That was as festive as I got.
Since I'd missed Thanksgiving, I didn't think that I could potentially start my own holiday traditions with Jaden as Dan did with his wife, but it might do her some good to experience a little holiday fun. I was sure I could think of something to make her eyes sparkle. Especially if she missed the snow.
I could feel Jaden start to sink into me more and more, her sleepiness starting to take over again. Taking her in my arms, I lifted her up and carried her back to the bed without a single moan of protest. She was still awake, but I wanted to hold her closer. Gently laying her down in the bed, I removed my pants and crawled in, resting her cheek against my chest. She sighed sleepily, resting her hand on my abdomen while my fingers drew lazy circles on her shoulder. My other hand drew lines up and down her arm as it rested on my torso, lulling her to sleep. That was when she suddenly, but softly, wrapped her fingers around my wrist to pull my hand up for her to see.
Curious, I let her fingers continue their exploration, her small hands expanding my fingers to open my palm. She turned my hand around, exposing my raw and red knuckles. The darkness of the night shielded only what it could from the moonlight, but it wasn't enough. I could feel her face tighten as she focused on the remains of blood that dirtied my father's ring on my middle knuckle. Her thumb traced just below my knuckles, her touch soft and gentle, as though she were trying to avoid hurting me.
She sighed through her nose, acknowledging the damage I'd done tonight and dismissing it, as she should. When she turned my hand back over, her delicate fingers traced along the rough calluses of my palm, exploring every line of my hand as if she were trying to discover every terrible thing I'd done with them. I'd lost count of the lives these hands had taken years ago, the body count too many to recall.
Stretching her hand against mine, her fingers barely reached past my second set of knuckles and for some reason, I found myself curling my fingers over hers. That was when I allowed my hand to take over hers, tracing her lines and delicate features. Even though her hand was small, it was still capable of so much damage, so much fury. Being punched by her little fist felt like being stabbed with a baseball bat—small and concentrated but still painful as hell.
My fingers kept up their expedition until they came across some minor calluses beginning to form on the top of Jaden's palm, just below her fingers. My fingertips lingered on the tiny rough patterns, suddenly frowning in disapproval.
"You're getting calluses from all the weights you've been lifting," I said softly.
"Mmmhmm," she mumbled with a slight nod against my chest.
I didn't want her hands rough like mine. I wanted them soft and feminine, polished and pristine. But still capable of delivering a strong punch if she needed to.
"I'll get you some weight lifting gloves," I said.
"Mmkay," she said sleepily, her eyes finally closing while her fingers curled around mine.
I placed her hand back down onto my abdomen, my hand still clutching hers and loving everything I felt. That night I fell asleep dreaming of something I'd never seen before—Jaden's genuine smile. It was so rare to see, and I suddenly decided I wanted it more often.
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