Free Unbeautifully by Madeline Sheehan Page B

thought, or the young woman who’d refused to take shit from him or anyone else.
    But now, that kid, that teenager, that young woman…they were gone.
    He couldn’t fault Frankie for this, or the life. This shit was his fault. True, the life had taken its toll on her and Frankie had beat her down, pounded on her something fierce, but she’d persevered through it all.
    It had been him, by refusing to let it go, refusing to love her the way a man should, who’d thrown the killing blow.
    Deuce could fix it, he knew he could. He could bring the woman he loved back to life. He held that precious power in his hands.
    He wanted to fix it.
    “Come here, darlin’,” he said hoarsely. All of a second passed before Eva was in his arms and he was carrying her across the room and dropping her on their bed and her hands were in his hair and her mouth…
    “This is my fuckin’ mouth,” he growled, kissing her roughly. He tore at her clothes, stripping her violently, grabbing her breasts, telling her over and over again that every part of her was his. Had always been his.
    Fuck, he needed her, he needed to be inside of her again. He freed himself and pushed against her; she was ready for him, wet and whimpering, needing him just as badly.
    It had been so long since he’d been inside of her, since he’d been able to take what was his, it had been since…
    Her breath caught, her eyes rolled back even as tears streamed down her face. Her legs quaking, she went face first into the pillow, crying out softly through her orgasm. Frankie followed her down, groaning loudly, his body jerking.
    He fought against the memory, fought it with everything he had. Eva was his. She was motherfucking his. Frankie was dead, gone, he couldn’t take her away from him anymore. She was his. She was his…
    Then Frankie turned to him. And grinned.
    He hadn’t fucked her since before Frankie. Frankie had been the last man inside his woman. Grinning. That’s all he could see, was that fucking asshole grinning.
    “FUCK!” he roared, pushing off the bed and turning away.
    “Wait,” she cried, reaching for him. “Baby, wa—”
    Anger and pain had him slapping her hands off him. “Shut up,” he growled, yanking his jeans up. “Just shut the fuck up.”
    “Deuce—”
    “No!” he bellowed. “You liked it, you fuckin’ liked it! You got off on bein’ raped!”
    Her fists came down on the mattress. “I loved him!” she screamed.
    Rage bubbled up inside him. “You loved him? You loved a man who did nothin’ but hurt you? How long had he been hurtin’ you, Eva? You fuckin’ tell me how long.”
    She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “He’s gone now.”
    He stared down at her. “Gone?” he asked hoarsely. “He ain’t fuckin’ gone. He’s still standin’ right between us, laughin’ his fuckin’ ass off.”
    In a flash she was off the bed and shoving at him. “Only because you’re letting him!” she screamed. “You’re not letting me fix it!”
    Deuce grabbed her wrists and held her still. “Shoulda never been nothin’ to fix,” he growled. “Ten fuckin’ years ago you showed up here wantin’ me and, bitch, you knew I wanted you, you knew you didn’t ever have to go back to that shit! It didn’t have to go down this way, Eva, ’cause you fuckin’ had me, you always fuckin’ had me!”
    He shook her hard. “You tell me why I should fuckin’ care ’bout you tryin’ to fix anything, when you spent your whole fuckin’ life tryin’ to fix him and not us? Was it because you loved him more? Did you love that motherfucker more than me ?”
    “He needed me,” she whispered.
    With a hard shove he pushed her off him. “BITCH,” he roared. “SO THE FUCK DID I!”
    Storming across the room, he punched in the code on his wall safe, grabbed what he needed, and got the fuck out of there, doing his best to ignore Danny glaring at him from her bedroom doorway and Eva’s soft