I felt his palm smack my ass, it wasn’t light, it wasn’t harsh but it made a point.

“Shut it, Lauren.”

I shut it. I’d never been spanked before. Not in my life. My Dad wasn’t afraid of discipline but he dished it out verbally.

Tate carried me to the bathroom, the light went on, he bent and put me on my feet. Then he jerked my body to facing the vanity and mirror and he moved in, pinning me to the edge of the basin counter.

“Look,” he ordered.

“What?” I whispered, still recovering from being hauled bodily into the bathroom and pinned to the counter against my will.

One of his arms locked around my ribcage, his other hand curled under my jaw and he leaned in, forcing me forward over the basin.

“Look,” he demanded. “What do you see?”

“Tate –”

“What do you see?” he repeated on a growl.

With no choice and more than a little scared, I looked at him in the mirror and answered. “I see me.”

“What do you see?” he reiterated.

“Tate, I see me,” I whispered.

“Lauren, look at you, not me. What the f**k do you see?”

I stared at him in the mirror and then my eyes went to my reflection.

“I see me,” I said softly and I did.

“Who did it to you?” Tate asked, releasing my jaw and he bent further forward, his hand covering mine on the counter.

“Did what?” I asked.

“Twisted what you see,” he answered. “’Cause, babe, I’m guessin’, with that shit you just fed me, what you see ain’t what I see.”

My breath caught and I remained silent.

“I know it ain’t your folks, they see what I see so who did it?”

“Tate,” I breathed but said no more. My heart was beating wildly, I could feel it in my chest, my neck, my wrists and my legs felt like jelly. If he wasn’t pressing me into the counter and holding me up, I was certain I’d fall.

His hand left mine at the counter and his arm at my ribs moved us slightly back so he could pull up the tee, exposing my panties and bunching the shirt under his arm then both of his arms locked tight around me and he pressed me into the counter again.

“Baby,” he whispered, “I don’t f**kin’ get it. Is it easier for you to see what he made you think was there? And if that’s it, why? What the f**k are you protecting yourself from?”

“I…” I swallowed, “I don’t understand.”

“No, babe, you don’t. He twisted it in so deep, you can’t straighten it out but look, look at you.” My eyes stayed locked to his in the mirror and he urged softly, “Laurie, baby, look at you.”

I forced my eyes to my reflection and I took it in, all of it. Not only me, my hips, undies and belly exposed, my br**sts resting on his forearm, my hair a mess around my makeup-free face and Tate behind me, tall, dark, broad and beautiful.

“You said you were waitin’ for something special and he took away your chance to figure out that you were carryin’ it with you all this time. You are special, Laurie.”

No.

No.

I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth, tilting my head down and to the side, automatically trying to block out his words.

Tate’s mouth came to my ear. “That g*y guy, those hippies, even f**kin’ Twyla showed up to have your back tonight. They did it because they see what your folks see, what I see, they did it because somethin’ special hit Carnal two months ago and they did it because you go all out to protect beauty like that.”

His words hit me like a silken blow and my breath hitched as I swallowed a sob.

His mouth went to my neck and he spoke there. “You’re right, baby. I like the idea of Jonas knowin’ you, learnin’ from you, how to work hard and be smart and treat people. But you’re wrong. You’re in my bed because I’ve never had beauty like that and I got a shot at it and you think you can twist our shit in your head into something ugly, f**k that. I won’t stop until I set it straight.”

My eyes opened, I looked at him in the mirror and his head came up to look at me.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a son?”

“Because Wood was right,” Tate answered instantly.

“Sorry?” I asked.

“Because, shit like that, not Jonas but what I got in my future to beat that bitch and get him safe, you don’t lay on a good woman when you and her are just startin’ out. Especially not when another woman’s been brutally murdered and your old lady’s Dad had a heart attack. You stick close, you stand strong and you work to hook her deep and then you lay it on her. I want you where you are.” His arms gave me a squeeze. “So yeah, I played you and I’d do it again, no joke, I’d do it. And I’d do it no hesitation. I needed to know you were what the promise of you seemed to be because I haven’t been good with that shit in the past and, if you were, I needed to make certain you stayed where I wanted you to be.”

“Keeping the existence of a son from me –”

He interrupted me, “I’d do it again.”

“Well, I don’t like that, I can’t ignore that I don’t like it and I can’t forgive it.”

“Same old shit, Laurie,” he muttered.

“No, it isn’t. We’re talking about you having a child with Neeta.”

“Yeah, babe. Was that a pleasant scene? Did you like what happened outside?”

“What?” I snapped and answered, “Of course not.”

“Twenty years of that,” he told me, “twenty f**kin’ years. She’s got a filthy mouth and shit for brains and she’s spoiled rotten and thinks she can do anything she wants. No man who’s had a woman like that in his life jumps back in without testin’ the waters and no father who’s goin’ for full custody brings a woman in his son’s life without makin’ sure she’s fit to be there. No, I didn’t tell you about Jonas because I needed to be certain you were who you are and, since you are, I needed to keep you safe from that shit you just experienced outside because I didn’t want you jumpin’ in your goddamned car again and findin’ yourself a new Carnal.”

God, I hated it when he made sense especially when I was furious at him.

“Let me go, Tate,” I demanded.

“Not gonna happen,” he replied.

I strained backwards. “Let… me… go.”