‘I won’t,’ he said, trying to keep his tone gentle. ‘I promise. I said we would stay friends, no matter what you chose. I meant it, so you don’t have to—’
‘Stop,’ she hissed. ‘I’m not feeling sorry for you. I’m trying to tell you that this . . . that I . . .’ Her hand shot out, grabbing hold of his shirt, and her eyes closed briefly as she muttered, ‘I don’t have time for this right now.’
He frowned, feeling a mix of hurt and irritation. But before he could say a word, she opened her eyes, tilted her head back and met his gaze directly. The panic was gone, replaced by the grim determination he saw in the eyes of clients who’d decided to fight in court to prove their innocence.
‘I . . . I need to tell you some things,’ she said firmly. ‘Important things.’
He braced himself, certain he wasn’t going to like any of those things. ‘The bad reason you came.’
‘No. Just . . . Well, that too, but this first.’ Gracefully she lowered herself to kneel on the floor and patted the carpet beside her. ‘Sit with me, please.’ Uneasily he did so, remaining silent because he had no idea of what to say. Still kneeling, her hands gripped his face and she visibly braced herself, just as he had done. ‘I wasn’t drugged the whole time.’
He blinked at her. ‘What?’
‘Evan. I wasn’t drugged the whole time. Before he abducted Lucy. Things . . . happened.’
For a moment he could only stare as the full import of her words registered. Then he was struck by a wave of horror, of rage. Of the need for disbelief. ‘No,’ he whispered. But it was true. He could see it in her eyes. This was what she’d been holding back.
No. No, no, no, no. He could hear the chant in his head. Had to bite his tongue to keep it from coming out of his mouth. Because she was watching him, waiting for his reaction.
This was important. He knew that. His reaction could break her into small pieces. Break her again. And that was something he would not do.
Except he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to howl. He wanted to scream. He wanted to dig Evan up and kill the motherfucker all over again.
But none of those things was going to help Gwyn. Not right this instant anyway. Not when she was looking at him with hope in her eyes.
Hope that he could accept it? Hope that it wouldn’t matter?
But it did matter. It mattered. Tears burned his eyes and he forced them back. He reached for her and she came into his arms willingly, trembling as he settled her on his thigh. He held her carefully. So damn carefully. Because if he held her as hard as he needed to, he’d break her into pieces.
He tipped up her chin so that he could see her face. ‘Like what?’ he asked, and it sounded harsh, even menacing, to his own ears.
But it must have been the right thing, because relief flashed in her eyes. ‘Things I can’t talk about here and now. But things that make it hard for me to tell you how I really feel.’ She dropped her gaze. ‘Because I am afraid.’
He blanched. ‘Of me?’
‘No.’ Her eyes flew to his, her hands tightening their grip on his face. ‘Not of you. And that’s one of the things I need you to understand. Never of you. You’re my safe place. You’re . . . mine, Thorne. Mine. And I didn’t want you to . . .’ Her expression twisted painfully. ‘I guess I didn’t want you to worry about me. Or think I was irreparable.’
‘I wouldn’t,’ he said hoarsely. ‘I couldn’t.’
‘I know that. I do know that. But I also can’t let you go on thinking that it’s you that I’m afraid of. Because I’m not.’
‘Then what is it?’
‘I don’t even have words for it.’ She faltered. ‘Maybe I’m afraid that once I tell you, everything will shatter. That this is just . . . borrowed. And I know it doesn’t make any sense.’
But it did. It really did. ‘You might be surprised,’ he murmured.
She considered him, pain in her beautiful eyes. ‘Maybe I would be. And we will discuss it, I promise. Just know . . . know that I feel. I do. I have trouble putting words to it, but Thorne, you are mine. I promise. If you still want me.’
His mouth went dry. Bone-fucking-dry. ‘How could I ever not want you? You are here. With me. Whatever that bastard did to you, you survived it. And nothing will change that. Nothing will change how I feel.’
Relief flooded her eyes. ‘I have to confess one more thing.’
He drew another breath, trying to ready himself. ‘Go ahead.’
She leaned close, brushing her lips over his cheek. ‘I dream about you. Really good dreams, Thorne.’
He released the breath he held in a hot rush. ‘You tell me this here? And now? Is this some new kind of torture?’
He felt her smile against his cheek. ‘No. I just wanted you to know. Because, you know, I thought everyone felt this way about you. But as it turns out, not everyone does.’
He frowned a little. ‘I have no idea what to think about that.’
She hummed, and the vibration rippled over his skin, straight to his cock. ‘It means I used to think that what I felt for you was normal. You know, like maybe ninety-nine percent of the women out there want you too?’
‘I don’t care about ninety-nine percent of the women. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.’
He felt her smile again. ‘Good to know. But for me, finding out that other women don’t feel that way let me know that this is . . . special. And I wanted you to know. Because I’m not saying no. I’m not even saying maybe.’
‘Then what are you saying?’ he asked, his voice hoarse.
She slid her lips over his cheek to his lips and kissed him. Chastely. More like a teenager’s shy kiss. But it was so much more. He froze, a growl deep in his chest.
‘God, Gwyn,’ he whispered when she lifted her head.
‘I know.’ Her smile was as sweet and dreamy as her kiss had been. ‘I was asleep for so long, Thorne. Why didn’t you wake me up?’
There was no recrimination in her voice. He swallowed hard. ‘I didn’t know how. I was afraid I’d . . . hurt you. Permanently.’
She was still touching him and he wanted to close his eyes and purr like a cat, but he held back, keeping his gaze focused and watchful.
‘You’ve been patient.’
‘You’re worth it,’ he whispered.
She swallowed hard. ‘Thank you.’ Then she drew a breath and he knew the moment was over. ‘I needed to be able to tell you this much. I wanted to be able to tell you a lot more, but . . . This is going to have to last us for a little while.’
He shook his head hard to clear it, fighting the urge not to dig his fingers into her soft skin and take what he craved. But something stopped him. Her words stopped him.
Patience, asshole. Remember what she told you. That things had happened. Things that still frightened her four years later. Fucking Evan. For the millionth time, Thorne wished the man weren’t dead so that he could kill him himself. With his bare hands.
‘Shh,’ she whispered, and he realized his teeth were grinding and he wore a scowl. ‘It will be okay. You’re mine. That means I’m yours too. It will be okay, Thorne.’
‘You promise?’ he said, feeling ridiculous. Like a damn child.
‘I promise,’ she whispered, brushing another chaste kiss over his lips. ‘I need you with me, though, because we have another situation. Tell me when you’re ready to listen.’
He dropped his brow to her shoulder and held on until the rage had passed, until the desire had passed, until the sheer euphoria of hearing her say that he was hers had passed. ‘All right. Tell me.’
He listened as she told him about the club, about the two dead bodies, about the implication that the owners of Sheidalin had retaliated against the Circus Freaks.
‘Oh my God,’ he breathed when she was done.
‘I know. And this is not your fault.’
‘No, but I know whose it is.’
‘Cesar Tavilla.’
‘Yeah. He tried to get his rival’s son charged with grand theft, but that didn’t work, so now he’s trying to get the Freaks to attack us. He wants to get his hooks in a rival gang and incite them to hurt the club.’ He leaned his head against the wall. ‘So what is everyone doing now?’