EMMALINE
James was still passed out in bed beside me when I woke up the next morning, which was really surprising considering he was always gone before I woke up.
I slowly eased my way out of bed and padded barefoot to the bathroom to take a shower. I was just standing there, letting the water run over my face and hair when I heard the shower door slide open. A moment later, the familiar roughness of James’s hands slid over my hips until his arms wrapped around me and the front of his body pressed against my back.
He pressed a light kiss to my shoulder. “Good morning, little one.”
“Good morning, indeed,” I greeted. I turned around to face him, splaying my hands across his muscular, bare chest as I did so. “I was surprised to still see you in bed this morning.”
“After last night, I decided to spend some time with you this morning.” My heart swelled in my chest. He reached up and cupped my jaw, his thumb gently rubbing over my cheek. “I don’t like seeing you upset, little one – even less when I’m the cause of it. I never want to give you a reason to doubt me, and last night, I did. I failed to communicate with you, and I’m sorry.”
“Oh, James,” I breathed as I reached up to cup his face in my hands. He turned his head and kissed first my left palm, and then my right. “It’s okay. I’m in no position to demand anything of you.”
He frowned, his eyes darkening as anger flashed in them. I swallowed thickly. My mouth seemed to always get me in trouble with him. “You have every right to question my whereabouts, Emmaline, especially when it’s two in the morning and you have not yet heard from me. How many fucking times do I have to tell you that you are my equal?” he demanded.
I shakily dropped my hands, my heart beating double time in my chest. I suddenly felt like I was on shaky, unstable ground. “I’m sorry,” I blurted. This was all still so new to me, and I was terrified of overstepping boundaries with him.
James closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath before he reopened them again, his eyes slightly calmer. “I don’t want a fucking apology, Emmaline. I want you to start thinking better of yourself. You are my equal. I have every intention of one day making you my wife.” My heart skipped a beat in my chest as my lips parted in astonishment. “You are a queen – my queen. You may belong to me, little one, but you are still your own person with valid feelings and fears. I want you to express them. Hiding from me doesn’t help you grow into the strong, capable woman that I know you can be.”
“This is unfamiliar territory to me,” I reminded him. He softly sighed. “I don’t know how to be my own person. Every time I tried to be who I wanted growing up, I got reprimanded,” I swallowed thickly, pushing away those dark memories as my skin crawled, “and I was forced back in line – back to the kind of person whatever foster parent I had at the time wanted me to be. So, I’ve always been led – always a follower – and eventually learned to just be obedient.”
James sighed. “Little one, there’s nothing wrong with being obedient in the correct situations,” he stressed. “But you still have a voice, thoughts, and feelings. You are still your own person. If I’m late, and I have not reached out to you, call me – text me. Demand a fucking answer, Emmaline.”
“Then you might get angry, and I’ll receive a punishment,” I whispered.
He growled. “No, you fucking won’t, because I don’t give punishments in anger, little one. It breaks trust, and I could hurt you. I may let anger fuel me in many other parts of my life as the head of the Family, but as your dominant and your man, I will never punish you while I’m angry.” He gripped my chin, his eyes darkening. “Has someone fucking punished you in their rage?” he demanded to know.
I swallowed thickly and closed my eyes, nodding my head. My skin crawled again, and I suddenly felt like throwing up. “Yes,” I answered, my voice weak and trembling.
His hand momentarily tightened on my chin, his other hand drawing me closer to him. “I’ll kill him,” he swore. I snapped my eyes open, staring up at him in shock. “Who the fuck hurt you, little one? Because I swear, I’ll fucking slaughter them.”
A sob tore from my throat as I wrapped my arms around his waist, plastering my body to his. Tears streamed down my face, old wounds reopening. James quickly wrapped his arms around my own body, holding me tight to him. “Fuck, little one,” he said softly, his voice pained. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” I blubbered. I sniffled as I rested my ear right above his heart, listening to its soothing, relaxing, steady beat. “Shit was rough.”
“I take it more than one person has hurt you,” he roughly spoke. And that knowledge sounded like it was tearing at his soul.
I just nodded my head. He buried his face in my wet hair and just held me. And I finally cried. After so many years of abuse and neglect – after so many years of being neglected and tossed aside over and over again, even way before I was forced into working in the club – I finally allowed myself to just cry.
And James? He continued to hold me, occasionally whispering soothing words in my ear.
“You’re mine now, little one. I’ll never fucking hurt you, and anyone else who fucking dares to? They’ll kiss your fucking feet and plead for your forgiveness before I slit their fucking throat,” James swore.
~*~*~
Mrs. Judy placed a cutting board and an onion in front of me. “Do you mind chopping that into small pieces for me, dear?” she asked.
“Not at all,” I assured her. I smiled at her. “I came down to help, remember? And to learn how to cook.”
After my emotional shower with James, he had bathed me before taking care of me by dressing me and drying my hair, brushing it out as well. He’d been so sweet, so attentive.
I never thought men like him had existed in the world.
She laughed. “You’re a doll. No wonder James is so infatuated with you. It’s so nice to see him happy for once.”
I began to chop the onion, my cheeks flushing. “Mrs. Judy, why did you choose to work here?” I asked her.
“I was James’s and his younger brother Darren’s nanny while they were growing up. When Darren turned eighteen, Mr. Frank and Mrs. Rose abruptly fired me and kicked me out of the house.” I gasped in astonishment as I turned to stare at her. “James happened to be coming to visit his parents when he’d seen me pulling a couple of suitcases behind me down the driveway, so he put me in his car, and brought me here – told me this would now be my new home.” A fond smile tilted her lips. “He didn’t want me working anymore, but I refused to just live off of him for free, so we came to a compromise. I cook the food to live here.”
“That was very sweet and kind of him.”
She laughed. “That boy has a heart of gold – you just have to be extremely important to him to see it. Life hardened him at a young age.” She frowned, as did I. “It was hard to watch a boy who used to be so sweet and giving turn into someone so cold and ruthless.”