Deeper.
What I did know was she’d scarred me.
Changed me.
Written herself in those places that I’d been sure were already penned. Unable to be edited or redrafted.
Salem had her arms curled around my neck as I carried her up the interior steps of my loft. Her breaths were short and shallow. I got the sense that she knew it, too. That we’d crossed a line that couldn’t be erased. That every second of this was different.
It’d felt like a merging out in that meadow. Even more so as she’d ridden on the back of my bike back to the shop, like something had shifted in the passing of the miles.
Like our spirits had managed to spill into the other and there was no way to get them back to their rightful places.
Eyes the color of a toiling sea stared up at me through the whispering shadows that shrouded the shop.
Gauging.
Evaluating.
Seeking.
I punched in the code to let us through the door into my loft. Stepping inside, I let it drop closed behind us. Dim lights warmed the darkness to a dusky glow.
Our clothes were soaked, two of us drenched through.
In unison, we shivered, even though there was a defined heat that surrounded us.
The embers of the fire that singed us still burned beneath the questions that had risen to the surface.
I started in the direction of my bedroom that was on the opposite side of the loft. Halfway there, I felt her pulse speed, the way she cautiously let the words fall from her mouth, the girl asking me to open another door for her. “Did they live here with you?”
Grief streaked through my being, getting loose of the bonds where I tried to keep the memories chained.
“No.” Agony raked out with the word.
I kept going, and she watched me like she was terrified I was going to run, when I was pretty sure it was the other way around. It was me who wanted to wrap her up and keep her.
Beg her to stay.
Friends.
What fuckin’ bullshit.
I carried her through the kitchen and into the short passageway that led into my room. I passed by my enormous bed and carried her into the bathroom.
I flicked on the light.
We both blinked against the intrusive glare that glinted off the shiny white floors and walls. Once we’d adjusted, I carried her the rest of the way to the shower. Still holding her, I angled in so I could turn on the faucet. Water fell from the rain shower, quick to fill the room with steam.
Carefully, I set her onto her feet like this fierce girl was going to break. Like it was her soul that was going to shatter when I could feel every wound inside me reopening.
I kept peeking at her as I peeled the wet fabric of her dress up her body. Chills raced her flesh as I drew it up and over her head.
Fuck me.
She was a vision.
A straight-up fantasy standing there in nothing but her sky-high heels and her underwear.
A dream wrapped in black ribbons and bows. Her underwear was nothing but a scrap of lace and a satiny string that ran down her ass.
Girl all curves and soft skin and mind-bending appeal.
A grunt slipped from my tongue. “Fuckin’ beautiful. Definition of it. Do you have any idea, darlin’？”
I let the question tumble out on the heated air, and Salem looked at me with those eyes that speared me all the way through.
Slayed and pierced and pinned me to the spot.
With trembling hands, she reached out, gripped the hem of my shirt, and pushed it up. I took hold of it when she made it to my chest, and I peeled it the rest of the way over my head.
Her hands spread over my abdomen and rode up to my shoulders.
“And you stagger me, Jud. You make me forget who I am.”
Gently, she tapped her fingertips along the designs and innuendo on my skin as if she could tap into their meaning.
As if she wasn’t afraid of the horror.
Or maybe she was just strong enough to hold the brutality of what they meant.
She didn’t look away from my face when she traced the word branded on my left side.
Grim.
Like she was rewriting that part, too.
But I knew better. Knew better than thinking it could be erased.
Because no matter how much time went by, that demon still lived. Hell, he’d been right there, ready to break loose tonight.
Through the bleary cover of the steam, I knelt to remove her heels.
I was half mad with this lust that wouldn’t let me go. The other part just wanted to fall at her fucking feet.
I curled my hand around her right ankle and lifted her foot, and Salem reached down to brace herself on my shoulders. Her question banged through my mind, and somehow this girl was pulling the truth from where I normally kept it sealed.
The hoarse confession grated from my tongue. “We had a place over by where Trent had lived with Gage before he met Eden. It was a little house with a big backyard and a perfect lawn and a pink playhouse that I was building in the back for when Kye got big enough.”
“Kye.” Salem whispered my daughter’s name.
Sorrow wafted through the mist.
Like we were both breathing it.
Were a part of it.
Sharing in the torment.
I slipped off her other shoe and pushed to standing, had to reach out and set my palm on this girl’s cheek to keep myself grounded. From falling to pieces. “Sat in that playhouse for weeks, just…waiting for them to come back. For Kye’s little laugh to fill the air. For the steps she’d just started taking to patter on the floor. When I realized they wouldn’t, I didn’t even pack. I just came here. Couldn’t take the echo of their voices for a second longer.”
Salem touched my chin, brushed her fingers through my beard. “Jud…I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
It was mine.
“It doesn’t mean I can’t hurt for you.” She kept peering at me with this expression that sheared through my conscience. Like this girl might be able to get the loss on a level that no one else could.
I swallowed hard, leaned down to work her panties free of those legs. As I went, I pressed a kiss to her thigh. To her knee. To her calf.
I unwound them from her ankles.
She ran her fingers through my hair. “Just like I can feel you hurting for me.”
I choked out a breath, pressed my nose to her knee, inhaled. “I’m livid for you, baby. Want to destroy that bastard. Wipe his existence from the earth.”
The deranged admission was out before I could stop it.
I knew by the way she shivered that she understood it wasn’t a figure of speech. Wasn’t an exaggeration.
She had me itching to do what I’d promised I’d never do again.
I turned to work my boots free of my feet. Standing, I kicked them off and shrugged out of my jeans and underwear.
As bare as the girl.
Exposed.
She pressed her palm to the thunder that raged at my chest.
“You’re lonely.”
Energy thrashed.
“Yes.”
My hand went to her jaw, to the scar that made me want to go on a rampage. Hunt down the monster and show him exactly what being a monster meant.
“And you see mine,” she whispered so soft. “My loneliness.”
“There’s no lonelier place than having to hide who we are.” My words were out, between the two of us. “You don’t have to hide from me.”
I wound my arm around her waist and lifted her an inch from the floor so I could step with her into the shower.