“I have the wrong girl for my life, not for me.” The words were out before I could begin to filter myself. This girl would be the death of me. I had no doubt of that.
She shook her head. “I will never be okay with your life, Lucas. I will never be okay with multiple women in this house vying for your attention and your love that you won’t give because you’re incapable of feeling it—especially when all I want is to go home and marry Kyle.”
I forced myself not to react to the pain of her last statement—to the fear that rose in me from old memories. But beyond the pain and my memories was a fear of something so much greater: William. He’d seen Briar’s attempt to contact Kyle. It was crucial he never heard about her life in Atlanta again.
Because the women sold into this world usually came from places they didn’t want to get back to. I didn’t want to think about what William would do if he found out Briar was different. He was a dangerous man, and untouchable. And he’d already broken so many rules . . .
“Don’t say that name in this house again, do you understand?”
She clenched her jaw and after a few seconds nodded stiffly. “As long as you understand that you will never make me into one of your mindless whores.”
“Watch yourself,” I warned. I studied her worried expression as seconds passed in silence. “Briar, I can’t make you believe anything you don’t want to, especially after how you came to be here, but last night wasn’t a way for me to make you progress faster. Admitting any of those things to you is no different than putting a gun in William’s hand, and pointing it at my forehead. I . . .” I shook my head as I searched for the right words. Looking up, I said, “I won’t promise I’ll never touch you or kiss you, but I promise I won’t touch you again until you’re ready.”
“But I’ll never be ready.”
I didn’t tell her that I disagreed. I just echoed, “Until you’re ready.”
More minutes passed, and with each one her body sagged more and more. As if I was breaking her without even trying. “I want to ask you something I have before, but I want you to answer as Lucas . . . not the devil.” When I only raised an eyebrow, she stressed, “The Lucas who breaks rules for me.”
“Ask your question, Blackbird.”
Her chest hitched and her eyes watered, but she held the tears back. “Will I ever go home?”
A dozen thoughts begged to be voiced. A dozen thoughts haunted me. One louder than the rest: It might just kill me when you do.
Despite my thoughts, I forced my head to shake slowly, and I watched as agony crossed her face before she could hide it.
“You are home.”
Her jaw was set in determination, but her voice shook. “You made a mistake buying me.”
I nodded—hurt flashed through her eyes at my silent answer. I moved closer to her so I could pull her into my arms, holding in my relieved sigh when she came willingly.
Cradling her face in my hands like she was fragile and irreplaceable, I dipped my head close so I could hold her watery stare. “Buying you was the best decision I ever made in my life. It would only ever be a mistake if anyone learned how much you are beginning to mean to me and took you from me. I would unleash hell on earth if I lost you now, Blackbird.”
Chapter 22
Simple Kisses
Briar
My mouth pulled into a frown weeks later as I crumbled bacon over the chicken carbonara. One of the only precious memories I had of my parents from when I was little danced through my mind, tugging at my heart and putting pressure on my chest.
“We’re gonna need more bacon than that.”
“No, sir,” Mom chastised and swatted at Dad when he went looking through the fridge for the package of bacon. “You shouldn’t be getting any at all. You heard the doctor, you need to watch your cholesterol.”
“Ah. What do doctors know? If it’s my time to go, then I’ll be ready . . . with bacon in my stomach.”
I giggled between my parents while I crumbled the crispy bacon, letting it sprinkle over the bowls of linguine as they continued their playful bickering.
It was the only time I could remember cooking with them. Actually, it was the only time I remembered either of them cooking at all—usually my nanny was the one who’d cooked in our house.
She was the one who had done everything: cooked, cleaned, raised me, taught me how to face my fears . . . She’d been everything my mother didn’t know how to be, until one day she wasn’t. Until my mother decided she wasn’t good for me and sent her away with enough money to ensure that my nanny wouldn’t ever contact me again.
That was the day I learned how disgusting money—and people with it—could truly be.
I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t hear him climb the stairs. I was so wrapped up in the ache spreading through my chest I didn’t realize he was even in the kitchen with me until he placed a simple kiss on the side of my neck and moved to lean against the counter so he was facing me.
“Smells incredible,” Lucas murmured appreciatively.
My cheeks warmed and my eyes met his briefly before I focused on the food again. Every inch of my body was still tingling from that kiss, and a part of me was already eagerly anticipating the next.
A small part.
Because at the moment I was just trying not to cry over a bowl of spaghetti.
“Blackbird.” His voice was soft and unsure, but somehow still demanding.
I glanced up again and found dark eyes searching my face.
“What’s wrong? Briar, what’s wrong?” he repeated when I didn’t respond.
I lifted one shoulder and grabbed for a towel to wipe my hands, but I hadn’t finished before Lucas pulled me against him. One hand cradled my neck, his thumb brushed against my jaw and tilted my head back so he could study me more intently.
“Talk to—”
“My parents.” The words were barely a whisper, but they stopped Lucas’s as if I’d screamed them.
He stilled against me for a few beats before his chest moved exaggeratedly. When he spoke again, his tone was dark, yet cautious. Always Lucas. Always the devil. “What about them?”
I let my eyes drift to the counter for a second. “I made this one time with them when I was little. It made me realize I only have a few good memories with them. And I just . . .” I didn’t try to continue, and I didn’t need to say anything more, judging by the way Lucas’s body relaxed for the briefest second before he tightened his arm around me.
“We can eat something else.”
“No,” I said, then laughed softly. “Just sad when you realize you don’t miss your parents at all.”
Lucas hesitated for a moment, then pressed his lips to the top of my head, and lingered there when he spoke. “Go sit down, I’ll bring the food to you.”
I was so caught up in his warmth and understanding I didn’t realize it was the first time he’d let me speak about any part of my life in Atlanta without immediately trying to put an end to it.