A Stone in the Sea

“I don’t like it, either.”


Regret filled his tone. “Can’t believe I didn’t see it. Make the connection that he’s one of Anthony’s boys.”

“Not your fault.”

“Feels like it is.”

My head shook slowly. “I don’t think it would have changed anything.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” His brow dented with concerned lines. “You scared of him?”

“Terrified,” I admitted.

But not in the way he thought. But Charlie just looked at me with sympathy, and I guessed the kind of fear that had me wound tight was exactly what he’d expected. He knew from where it was bred, why it was born.

“Be careful, sweetheart,” were the only words he issued before he closed the door behind him and left me to my own decisions, quietly supporting me the way he always had.

Charlie and my grandmother had been the two people to instill a true-kind of confidence in me, the ones who’d taught me to stand tall for what I believed in and to fight for what I wanted. Not the kind of confidence my mother had brainwashed me with. No. They taught me to look for the quiet answers beating in my heart.

I sat there for a couple more minutes, before I finally stood. A tremor rolled through me, and if it were possible, my heart beat faster.

Pound.

Pound.

Pound.

I drew in a shaky breath and opened the door. Darkness shrouded the kitchen that had been closed down for the night. Only a small lamp glowed from the back of the space, and I trailed my hand along the wall to guide me. At the swinging doors, I paused, stuck in the tension that grew thick and suffocating. Slowly I pushed on the door that led out into the main floor.

A tangle of convoluted emotions had me twisted up inside.

But what I ultimately felt had risen to the top.

I stood just inside the empty, dark room. Empty except for the one man who sat as a blackened silhouette, obscured in the shadows, the one who’d managed to strip me of all my defenses.

When I found him sitting there that first time, I thought I’d known better than to go looking for his brand of heartbreak. But Sebastian had revealed in me everything I’d been missing, stamped out my loneliness, and inserted himself in its place. He made me believe in something I’d given up hope on a long time ago because I’d never found it to be real, never believing giving myself wholly to someone was worth the risk.

Now I knew better.

Now I knew it was worth everything.

My movements were cautious and slow as I began to move around the long bar, my gaze locked on him over the top of it, my heels echoing on the hardwood floors. Outside, a lone car roared by, the city on lockdown in the middle of the deep, deep night.

As I approached, Sebastian pushed out from under the booth, the huge bulk of this striking man rising to stand. Energy vibrated through him, hostility and anger and hurt.

And I knew that somewhere along the way I’d gained the power to hurt him, too.

Ten feet away from him, I fell to a stop, my heart beating frantic and wild, desire stampeding out ahead of it.

He lifted his chin, voice like gravel when he spoke. “You see me, Shea?”

His words collided with me, knocking the rest of my reservations free.

And again I lifted my chin in surrender. “Yes.”

Yes.

I’d never seen anyone so clearly.

Intensity billowed between us, like a spark before a summer storm. He fisted his hands, grey eyes rife with defensive anger, haunted by his own reality, and I knew he felt it, too. I wasn’t alone in all this confusion and doubt.

“Sebast—”

He cut me off by erasing the space. His hungry mouth was suddenly overpowering mine, stealing the words I needed to say. He wrapped the length of my hair up in his hand, forcing my head back as if every element that made him up demanded he get me closer.

His other hand snaked under my skirt and to my ass. Fingers dug in, gripping tight, pulling me flush against the solid mass of everything I wanted for my own.

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