Page 17 of The Twisted Beats

I’m so mad at myself, I’m shaking. I knew Livianna was using that scene to avoid facing her heartbreak, but I figured I’d give her what she wanted. She’d get the release she needed, and then we could make love. That hope is gone.

Not in a million years did I consider she’d take it to those extremes. I thought she was done trying to hurt herself and putting herself at risk.

Fuck!I misjudged that.

“Jax…” She turns to me and gestures to the jar of ointment I have in my hand. “Give me the cream and I’ll put it on.”

“No. I always take care of you after we create a scene like that. That doesn’t change now.” I stare hard into her eyes. “You’re prone to sub drops and probably more so tonight considering everything that’s going on. You need me.”

She rolls her eyes and disappears into the walk-in closet. There’s a dresser in the middle of it with her undergarments and all the different pajamas she likes to sleep in. She slams the drawers, pulling them in and out, likely rummaging around for something.

I won’t chase her when she’s being defiant. It won’t end well if I do. We need to come down together in a loving and respectful way. Not arguing and her pushing me away.

She knows what she did was not only wrong but dangerous as fuck. My heart thunders just thinking about it.

I’m seething inside, knowing I didn’t pick up on the signs. I should’ve checked on her before I did. Especially when I tightened the clamps more than I ever have before.

She needed to get out of her head, and I thought I could accomplish that by pushing her boundaries.

What was I thinking?

“Livianna, I’ll be out on the deck. I need some fresh air. Please meet me out there.”

She comes out of the closet in a flowy cotton tank top and loose booty shorts. “I’ll come with you now.”

“Do you want me to put this on you before we go out there?” I hold out the jar.

“Yes, please.” She walks over to an ottoman-type chair she uses when she’s doing her makeup.

She pulls it out, sits, and lifts her shirt. Her nipples are already bruised and my stomach knots.

I turn my head and run my hand over my mouth. I take a moment to purposely relax. She doesn’t need an irate asshole taking care of her.

“Fuck, Livianna. Those are going to hurt like hell for the next week, if not more.” I gaze into her eyes as I make my way to her. “Applying this is going to?—”

“I know. I did it to myself, so just do it.”

“We both missed flags, but it’s my job to protect you.”

“I should’ve said something.”

I dip my chin in acknowledgement. “After I’m done applying this, I’ll get you a cool compress. Remember to breathe.”

“I will.” She shows me a guilt-ridden smile.

“Okay, then get ready.” I kneel before her, open the container, and scoop some out.

I take the next few minutes trying to soothe her as I rub the cream around her entire breast. Bruising can spread and hers definitely will. Knowing this makes my insides cringe.

I try to take my mind off my frustration by focusing on all her great attributes. It’s hard to stay mad when I consider what a wonderful woman she is.

Since I’m touching and staring at her body, that’s what my mind hooks onto. She’s tiny, but she’s got D-cup-size breasts. And they’re real.

Her waist is small, and her ass is nice and round. There’s nothing about her appearance I don’t love.

Shit, there’s nothing aboutherI don’t love. I could do without her destructive ways, but I have compassion for her.

She only acts out to prove to herself she can get through anything. It’s a great thing to discover about yourself, so I can’t judge her for wanting to persevere.