Behind the Lyrics by Melissa Riddell
Chapter 22
Viktor Farrow
I was falling from the heavens and into her clutches, and I no longer knew if I cared or not. Her light, feminine scent teased me, and her little moans of pleasure sent the blood thumping from my head to my cock. The soft press of her lips on mine overloaded my senses, creating an endorphin rush I’d never experienced before.
In the past, I’d had women—many ladies—and some were sweet, but none could even come close to Angela. The understanding in her tone and deep empathy emanating from those delectable eyes nearly undid me. I don’t know what made me blurt out my deepest secret when I’d never shared it with anyone—including my therapist—but in a matter of minutes, I had become putty in her hands and laid my heart bare.
“Viktor?” She breathed against my lips, panting and nuzzling my cheek.
“Yes, Angel?” My voice sounded as breathy as hers. Bloody hell, what is she doing to me?
“Can I tell you something?” She moved away a few centimeters, her gaze turning from bliss to tortured.
Alarm replaced the heated desire in my veins. “Of course. What is it?” Please don’t say this was a mistake.
“You know about me being divorced. I guess everyone knows now.” She picked at a nail, head bowed and voice low.
“Yes. And I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s fine. That part of my life is in the past, thank God.” Lifting a fingernail to her mouth, she nibbled at the edge. “My ex-husband, Jeff, used to drink. A lot.”
I tightened my grip around her wrist. Great. She was married to an alcoholic. No wonder she hated me when we met.
“Go on.” Yes, my words were harsh, but it wasn’t directed at her. No, my anger built toward this Jeff bastard, stirring hatred deep in my bones just knowing he’d shared a part of her life I’d never have access to. Am I fucking jealous? What happened to OAS? I was turning into a piss-poor seducer.
“Some nights, it was bad. I don’t know why I stayed. I guess…” Her voice trailed off, as if she were internalizing her thoughts.
I squeezed her arm once.
She glanced at me. “I guess I kept holding out hope. He’d always promise he’d quit, and he would for a little while, but then he started again.” Her focus bounced around the room. With a deep breath, she returned her attention to me. “One night, he wanted to have sex, but I refused. I couldn’t stand the thought of his drunk, slobbery mouth on mine, his fumbling fingers touching me, any of it. He wasn’t the same man when he was wasted. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
The blood in my veins boiled. No matter the stupid shite I’d done in the past, I would never have pushed a woman if she said no. To me, that was one of the worst things a person could do. I didn’t blink. Her bottom lip trembled, and something inside my chest fucking broke, knowing what was about to come out of her mouth.
“He forced me to…you know.” She closed her eyes. “It hurt. I screamed for him to stop, then begged, then shut up. The next day—he’d drank so much he’d blacked out afterwards—he swore not being able to remember and accused me of making it up. I could never look at him the same way. It was the final straw that pushed me to leave.” Her eyelids opened, and vulnerability and fright swirled in the depths of her fathomless dark chocolate stare, as if she feared what I would think. “I haven’t been with anyone since.”
I swallowed and ran a hand through my hair, giving myself time to calm and replay her words. Whoever this Jeff guy was, I wanted to grab him by the throat and gut him. No, first, I’ll slice his dick off, then—
“I, uh, maybe I shouldn’t have shared that with you. I’m sorry if you don’t want to—”
With a growl, I crushed her to my chest. “Why didn’t you go to the police?” Anger shook my arms. I’d not felt this kind of fury in years, and it thrummed within me, demanding release.
“I did,” she murmured into my shirt. “But they said it was hard to prosecute a spouse when it came to rape, then asked if I was certain that’s what I wanted to claim. They suggested maybe we’d both been drinking and got a little carried away. I insisted and retold it to several different officers, but I could see they didn’t believe me. Afterward, I dropped the charges.” She gave a small shrug then placed her splayed hand near my heart. “I filed for divorce and let him have everything because I never wanted to see his face again. It felt as if the entire town judged me every time I set foot in public. I became a coward and ran away.”
My anger was a bomb, ready to explode at the thought of someone abusing my angel. An image of me standing over this faceless Jeff twat and smashing my fist into his nose consumed my thoughts.
“Are y-you mad or disgusted with me?” She tilted her head to look at me and drew her shoulders inward.
“What?” Unblinking, I took in the tears sitting at the corners of her eyes, her wan face, and the grimace pulling at her lips. “I could never be mad or disgusted with you, but I want to murder this Jeff sap. So help me, if I ever come face-to-face with him, I’ll beat him to a bloody pulp.”
The tension in her muscles released, and she sagged against me. “He’s long gone. The last I heard, he left Texas, too.”
Needing something to do, I stood and pulled her upward. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe. I need to make something before I break something.” I opened the door and, with her hand in mine, led her downstairs.
One of the girls from last night, the brunette, stopped in the living room when she saw us descending the staircase. “Hey, Viktor.” She pouted her lower lip. “I didn’t know you were home. Why don’t you and your friend come join us in the pool?” She thrust her metallic-colored bikini-clad chest outward and propped a hand on a hip, flashing a smile.
I sneered. How could she think I’d be tempted when I had the most beautiful angel in the world standing at my side? “Not interested.”
Without another word, I steered Angela to the back of the house, where the recording studio sat in darkness. Its calm would soothe the rage building in the core of my heart and mind.