The Chauffeur [Complete]

Chapter 41

It was late in the night. I had been asleep. Until I wasn't. I heard water running in the bathroom, which had me getting out of bed to investigate. I crossed the hall, making sure to keep quiet as not to wake my sleeping daughter in the other room.

I gently knocked on the door. I knew it was Rade. When he didn't open the door, I turned the knob and slowly pushed it open. 

My eyes immediately zeroed in on the red water in the sink. Rade was washing blood off his hands, his knuckles covered in bruises and dried blood.

I closed the door behind me. "What the fuck?" He didn't look up, continuing to scrub his hands clean under the faucet. "Rade," I called, panicked.

"Blood's not mine," he mumbled casually as if that somehow made the situation any better. 

That knowledge may have relaxed me, but only for a second. Because now that I knew the blood wasn't his, I was panicking all over again. He was shirtless, his back still to me. I grabbed his arm and pulled. He turned to me.

My eyes widened even more when I saw the dark red bruise on his cheek and the cut on his nose like he'd been hit in the face by something hard. I grabbed his face. "Dios(God)! What happened?"

"I'm okay," he said softly.

"What. Happened?"

His gray eyes scanned my face before he confessed. "I indulge in underground fighting from time to time."

I wasn't expecting that at all. I wasn't sure whether to be relieved that he hadn't murdered someone, or pissed off that this is what he was doing tonight. And he conveniently failed to tell me about it.

Realization dawned on me. "Is that what you and Ace were talking about on the phone?"

He nodded. "He owns the place I fight at. Helps me let off steam. A percentage of the money made goes to charity."

"If you were angry about something, why didn't you just talk to me about it?" For some reason, I was offended. I'd told him countless times that I was here should he need to talk. So why didn't he take me up on it?

He shook his head and pinned me to the door. "I don't want to talk, Celeste," he said lowly, trapping me between his big arms. "I want to fuck you. Hard."

I swallowed. My legs felt weak. "Waiting until I'm divorced was your idea," I reminded him, my voice sounding foreign in my ears. He can't blame me for something that was never my idea to begin with.

"Would you have really been okay with fucking me knowing you're still married to another man?"

"No," I whispered.

His eyes lingered on my lips for a moment. Pain flickered in his gaze before he willed himself to back away. I wanted to tell him that I knew what happened with his father. That I was here to listen if he needed to rant.

But my mouth wouldn't move. He hadn't told me for a reason. I'd gone through the same situation his mother had gone through, only Sam was never an alcoholic and the woman and children he'd father were still very much alive.

"I went to see Harvey," I said, breaking the silence. "He's well. He misses you." I added that last part. Harvey might not have said it in those exact words, but I know he misses his son.

Rade exhaled. "I don't want to talk about him."

"Right," I muttered. I forgot he didn't want to talk.

I want to fuck you. Hard.

I approached him, analyzing the bruise on his cheek and the cut on his nose. "Did it hurt?" It looked like it hurt bad. Rade was doing a good job of not showing it.

"No. I've gotten use to the pain."

"Did you win?"

He nodded. "No more talking." He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into him. "Just let me hold you for a minute." He lowered his head, burying it in the crook of my neck.

I didn't agree with his method of "letting off steam". Underground fighting is not only illegal but it's dangerous. There is no protective gear or rules stopping his opponent from really hurting him.

But I couldn't really stop him from doing it. He's a grown man and doesn't need me telling him what he can and can't do. Besides, I'm still in the process of this divorce. Which won't be finalized for another month or so. So underground fighting will just have to do for now.

****

"Be still," I demanded in annoyance, grabbing a hold of his face. 

He grumbled under his breath. I was applying foundation onto his cheek to hide the dark bruise he'd gotten from his fight last night.

"Unless you want Kendall breathing down your neck, then I suggest you stop complaining so I can finish."

I gently dabbed the liquid foundation onto his cheek, making sure to keep it light so it blended better with his skin tone. His skin was so much lighter than mine so it took a lot of foundation, concealer, and powder to hide the mark.

I didn't want to imagine someone hitting Rade. I didn't want to imagine him being in pain. While it looks like he'd left his match barely scathed, -I'm sure his opponent sustained far worse injuries- I still didn't like the idea of him fighting.

"I don't do it often," he said suddenly, pulling me away from my thoughts. I looked him in his eyes. I swear he has some kind of superpower. Somehow, he's always been able to read my mind as if I'd voiced it aloud.

"Doesn't mean I won't worry about you," I told him, reapplying a bit more powder before handing him a mirror so he could see my excellent makeup skills.

He kept his eyes on me. His lips curl a bit, hinting at a smile. "I love when you worry about me."

My insides fluttered.

"Though I'm pretty sure I worry about you more."

My insides had turned to mush at that point. "How so?" I found myself asking. I wanted to know what about me worried him. He doesn't exactly show much emotion, so his admission piqued my interest.

"Your facial expressions, your body language- they say a lot. Even when you don't think they do, or that I notice. For example, your cheeks flushed right after I'd told you how much I love when you worry about me."

They did? I hadn't noticed. The butterflies in my stomach were quite distracting.

"Give me another example. One that only you would notice."

"You love playing in my hair. Especially when I'm eating your pussy. You come harder that way."

My entire face turned as red as a cherry. Am I breathing? I can't tell.

I put everything back into my makeup bag and asked, "Do you want to know what I've noticed about you?"

Curiosity glittered in his stormy clouds. "Please, enlighten me."

"You probably won't ever admit it out loud, but you love to cuddle."

"You're right. I will never admit that out loud."

I smiled. There are plenty of other things I've noticed about him. For example, he loves taking care of me. Keeps him in control that way. Me needing him. 

I've also noticed that without all the time we've spent together, I'm not sure I would have gotten to know this side of him. The side of him that wasn't just possessive and obsessed, but the side of him that loves sharing food, helping people, and being around kids.

He can be a grumpy jerk at times and has an inability to be anything but honest, even if the truth may hurt. But he's my grumpy jerk. He's mine. And now that I have him, I don't intend on ever letting him go.