Train's Clash
Page 52
“Don’t blame me because I took you at your word. How was I supposed to know you would get mad for calling your bluff?”
She began pacing in her high-heeled boots, going from one end of the room to the other. “I. Am. Not. Going. To. Fuck. You just because you started mouthing off a bunch of mumbo jumbo.” She raked her hair back, making it more disarrayed.
“It’s not mumbo jumbo; it’s French. I speak it fluently. I took it in high school, college, and used it a few times in the military. Want me to show you that I can repeat what you want in French?”
“La te da.” She threw him a nasty look at she continued pacing. “Can you say ‘go home’ in French?”
“Yes, but I want to know why first. Why don’t you want to have sex with me now? You said you wanted to think it over—obviously you have or you wouldn’t have invited me to meet your mother, or meet you at the clubhouse. So, what’s up?”
Sighing in defeat, she admitted, “I told Sex Piston and the other bitches I wouldn’t.”
“Why in the hell would you tell them that? Personally, I don’t think it’s any of their business, but I know you are all tight. Why would they care as long as it’s what you want?” His stomach sank at a sudden thought. “Did you tell them you don’t want me?”
“No. They just want me to be careful. They don’t want me to get hurt.”
“You’re not the only who can be hurt here.”
“It’s not the same.”
“Why not? I’m taking a chance, too. I should be the one worried … Have I done anything you asked me not to? You’re the one who almost ran me over.”
She stopped pacing to stare at him. He could see what she had been hiding from him; what Winter and everyone had been saying. She cared for him, and she was afraid he would want her only physically. However, if he gave her the breathing room she wanted, he might never get her back to the point they were now.
He moved to stand in front of her, tracing a lone finger along the bottom of the black bandana that curved around her throat. This was as close to being vulnerable as she was going to show him.
She put her hand up to stop him from touching her.
Sliding out from under her restraining hand, he drew an imaginary line down her chest, coming to a stop at the button between her breasts. “Do you want to know who the woman was who’s name I covered up?”
“Yes.” Train wanted to kiss the lip that she tugged between her teeth.
“Her name was Nalin, and she was my mother.” Train unbuttoned the first button, sliding down to the next one.
“Why did you cover up your mother’s name?”
“Because she lied to me. My father was a drunk.” Train’s lips twisted in mockery. “Not only was he a drunk, he was a mean drunk. Everyone on the reservation was afraid of him. I was seven when my mother saved enough money from cleaning houses to move us to Louisiana, where my father found a job with an offshore drilling company. My mother was so excited. She thought it would be a new start for us. I wasn’t as excited. I didn’t want to leave my grandparents behind, but my two little sisters and I had no choice.
“My father stayed sober when he was on the job, but when he came home, a bottle was in his hand. Our mother never told us when he was coming. I doubt she even knew herself. I would usually find out he was home when I heard him walking down to my mother’s room at night after the bars were closed. My sisters would sneak into my room when they heard them fighting.” Train slipped another button free as Killyama’s pale face watched his movements. She didn’t stop him.
“I was nine years old when he made the mistake of trying to beat my sister when she had gone into our mother’s bedroom. The days my father wasn’t there, Lenna would snuggle with my mother until it was time to get ready for school. We hadn’t heard him come home that night.
“My father was still drunk and started beating Lenna. My mother tried to pull him off, but he just beat her, too. I still remember lying on my bedroom floor as he tried to rape my baby sister.” Train unbuttoned another button. Her skin was like satin where his fingers touched, keeping him rooted in the present as he recounted the memories of his past.
“I lost it. My father wasn’t used to us fighting back, so I managed to get him off of Lenna. It was the only time in my life my mother called the police. She knew he would kill me for fighting him.
“The police came and arrested him. He lost his job, and the courts wouldn’t let him back in our home.” Train shook his head at the turmoil that erupted because of that night. “My mother wouldn’t take him back after that happened. Me and my sisters wanted to move back to the reservation, but my mother wouldn’t. She was determined we would have a better life.” Another button was undone.
“She scrimped and saved, and we moved into an apartment in a good neighborhood that had the best school in the state. I would go with her to clean businesses at night, and go to school in the morning, grabbing a few hours’ sleep as she would finish the few jobs she didn’t need my help with. By my senior year high school, she built up her business so that she could hire other workers. That was when I decided to go into the military. I didn’t think she needed me anymore.”
Train paused before flicking the next button undone. “I was in my second year in the military when I found out from my sister that our mother was seeing our father again. I made my sister put my mother on the phone, and we talked a long time. She swore to me that she wasn’t taking him back, that she was seeing him because she felt sorry for him. She said he was living on the streets. She swore to me that she would never let him come near my sisters. She lied.
“A week later, I was staring down at my mother and sisters’ graves. Lenna, Ela, and my mother had all lied to me. My mother had let my father move back in before Lenna had even told me that she was seeing him.” Train spread the silky blouse away from her, staring down at her rose-tipped breasts. He gently pressed a kiss on the flesh between them.
“That’s why you covered up your tattoo?”
“Yes, and that’s why I would never lie to you, and I don’t want you to lie to me. Lies affect everyone around you.” Raising his head, he pulled the two parts of her top back together. “And since I have no intention of making you a liar, I’m going home.” He turned to leave.
“Train?”
He stopped, but he didn’t turn around. His self-control had limits, and seeing her hazel eyes look defenseless was more than he could take.
“I told them I wouldn’t fuck you until I was sure you wouldn’t fuck around on me.”
Train turned. “I already told you I won’t.”
“I believe you.”
“I want to be upfront, Rae. Neither us knows how this will work out, but I will be honest.”
“I will, too.”
When he started to leave again, she reached out, looping the wallet chain that was clipped onto his jeans around her finger.
“How do you say ‘fuck me’ in French?”
His eyes narrowed on her sultry expression. One minute, she could have a man cringing in fear, and the next … she was a modern day Delilah.
She shrugged her blouse off then moved closer to brush her breasts against his T-shirt. Train unsnapped her jeans, speaking softly in French as he started tugging them down. She then brought her hands to his biceps so she could maintain her balance as her boots prevented the jeans from dropping to the floor. Train tangled his foot with hers as he gave Killyama a small push backward.
She began pacing in her high-heeled boots, going from one end of the room to the other. “I. Am. Not. Going. To. Fuck. You just because you started mouthing off a bunch of mumbo jumbo.” She raked her hair back, making it more disarrayed.
“It’s not mumbo jumbo; it’s French. I speak it fluently. I took it in high school, college, and used it a few times in the military. Want me to show you that I can repeat what you want in French?”
“La te da.” She threw him a nasty look at she continued pacing. “Can you say ‘go home’ in French?”
“Yes, but I want to know why first. Why don’t you want to have sex with me now? You said you wanted to think it over—obviously you have or you wouldn’t have invited me to meet your mother, or meet you at the clubhouse. So, what’s up?”
Sighing in defeat, she admitted, “I told Sex Piston and the other bitches I wouldn’t.”
“Why in the hell would you tell them that? Personally, I don’t think it’s any of their business, but I know you are all tight. Why would they care as long as it’s what you want?” His stomach sank at a sudden thought. “Did you tell them you don’t want me?”
“No. They just want me to be careful. They don’t want me to get hurt.”
“You’re not the only who can be hurt here.”
“It’s not the same.”
“Why not? I’m taking a chance, too. I should be the one worried … Have I done anything you asked me not to? You’re the one who almost ran me over.”
She stopped pacing to stare at him. He could see what she had been hiding from him; what Winter and everyone had been saying. She cared for him, and she was afraid he would want her only physically. However, if he gave her the breathing room she wanted, he might never get her back to the point they were now.
He moved to stand in front of her, tracing a lone finger along the bottom of the black bandana that curved around her throat. This was as close to being vulnerable as she was going to show him.
She put her hand up to stop him from touching her.
Sliding out from under her restraining hand, he drew an imaginary line down her chest, coming to a stop at the button between her breasts. “Do you want to know who the woman was who’s name I covered up?”
“Yes.” Train wanted to kiss the lip that she tugged between her teeth.
“Her name was Nalin, and she was my mother.” Train unbuttoned the first button, sliding down to the next one.
“Why did you cover up your mother’s name?”
“Because she lied to me. My father was a drunk.” Train’s lips twisted in mockery. “Not only was he a drunk, he was a mean drunk. Everyone on the reservation was afraid of him. I was seven when my mother saved enough money from cleaning houses to move us to Louisiana, where my father found a job with an offshore drilling company. My mother was so excited. She thought it would be a new start for us. I wasn’t as excited. I didn’t want to leave my grandparents behind, but my two little sisters and I had no choice.
“My father stayed sober when he was on the job, but when he came home, a bottle was in his hand. Our mother never told us when he was coming. I doubt she even knew herself. I would usually find out he was home when I heard him walking down to my mother’s room at night after the bars were closed. My sisters would sneak into my room when they heard them fighting.” Train slipped another button free as Killyama’s pale face watched his movements. She didn’t stop him.
“I was nine years old when he made the mistake of trying to beat my sister when she had gone into our mother’s bedroom. The days my father wasn’t there, Lenna would snuggle with my mother until it was time to get ready for school. We hadn’t heard him come home that night.
“My father was still drunk and started beating Lenna. My mother tried to pull him off, but he just beat her, too. I still remember lying on my bedroom floor as he tried to rape my baby sister.” Train unbuttoned another button. Her skin was like satin where his fingers touched, keeping him rooted in the present as he recounted the memories of his past.
“I lost it. My father wasn’t used to us fighting back, so I managed to get him off of Lenna. It was the only time in my life my mother called the police. She knew he would kill me for fighting him.
“The police came and arrested him. He lost his job, and the courts wouldn’t let him back in our home.” Train shook his head at the turmoil that erupted because of that night. “My mother wouldn’t take him back after that happened. Me and my sisters wanted to move back to the reservation, but my mother wouldn’t. She was determined we would have a better life.” Another button was undone.
“She scrimped and saved, and we moved into an apartment in a good neighborhood that had the best school in the state. I would go with her to clean businesses at night, and go to school in the morning, grabbing a few hours’ sleep as she would finish the few jobs she didn’t need my help with. By my senior year high school, she built up her business so that she could hire other workers. That was when I decided to go into the military. I didn’t think she needed me anymore.”
Train paused before flicking the next button undone. “I was in my second year in the military when I found out from my sister that our mother was seeing our father again. I made my sister put my mother on the phone, and we talked a long time. She swore to me that she wasn’t taking him back, that she was seeing him because she felt sorry for him. She said he was living on the streets. She swore to me that she would never let him come near my sisters. She lied.
“A week later, I was staring down at my mother and sisters’ graves. Lenna, Ela, and my mother had all lied to me. My mother had let my father move back in before Lenna had even told me that she was seeing him.” Train spread the silky blouse away from her, staring down at her rose-tipped breasts. He gently pressed a kiss on the flesh between them.
“That’s why you covered up your tattoo?”
“Yes, and that’s why I would never lie to you, and I don’t want you to lie to me. Lies affect everyone around you.” Raising his head, he pulled the two parts of her top back together. “And since I have no intention of making you a liar, I’m going home.” He turned to leave.
“Train?”
He stopped, but he didn’t turn around. His self-control had limits, and seeing her hazel eyes look defenseless was more than he could take.
“I told them I wouldn’t fuck you until I was sure you wouldn’t fuck around on me.”
Train turned. “I already told you I won’t.”
“I believe you.”
“I want to be upfront, Rae. Neither us knows how this will work out, but I will be honest.”
“I will, too.”
When he started to leave again, she reached out, looping the wallet chain that was clipped onto his jeans around her finger.
“How do you say ‘fuck me’ in French?”
His eyes narrowed on her sultry expression. One minute, she could have a man cringing in fear, and the next … she was a modern day Delilah.
She shrugged her blouse off then moved closer to brush her breasts against his T-shirt. Train unsnapped her jeans, speaking softly in French as he started tugging them down. She then brought her hands to his biceps so she could maintain her balance as her boots prevented the jeans from dropping to the floor. Train tangled his foot with hers as he gave Killyama a small push backward.
