Page 83 of Sixth Sin

I wince. Not just because two weeks ago, I came clean to Angel about the lawsuit, which—fuck you Milly—she already knew about, but because the more time we spend together, the harder this weight presses on my chest.

I wish I looked at her the same now. I wish I looked at her and saw my Angel, but I don’t. I don’t think I ever will again. All I see is penance.

I wish I could let her go, but I’m in too deep to turn back now. Not only for my own selfish reasons, but for her protection. At the least, I owe it to her to make sure her world doesn’t become as tainted as mine.

Cupping her cheek, I trace those full lips with my thumb. As if commanded, they part, and her eyes flutter closed. Lowering my hand, I grit my teeth and turn away. With a groan, I set the beer bottle on a side table and drop onto the chaise lounge.

Angel watches me, her fingers twisting by her side before taking a few tentative steps. “Hey, are you all right?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’ve just seemed off lately.” She looks down, her cheeks flushing blood red. “If this is about what happened last night, I—”

“It’s not.”

Angel flinches at my tone. Admittedly, it’s sharper than I intended, but I’m in no mood for this conversation. Things are fucked up enough without analyzing why my girlfriend flipped out in the middle of sex, crawled into a corner, and cried for two hours.

“I don’t know what happened. It wasn’t you. It’s me. The dreams are getting worse and more real.” Hugging her arms around her chest, she whispers, “Sometimes, I don’t know if I’m even dreaming anymore.”

I stiffen, blood roaring in my ears as previous misfired connections start lining up. I want her to stop talking. I don’t want to know anymore. Whoever said ignorance is bliss was a smart motherfucker. Knowledge only makes a man choose between right and wrong. The shitty thing is that both end with someone losing everything.

Before I can stop her, Angel swings her leg over the chaise lounge and straddles me. I try to turn away, but she captures my face between her hands, forcing me to look at her. “Dominic, I want to be with you, but what you said—”

“Look, I get it,” I say, dislodging her hold. “You don’t have to explain.”

“No, I do,” she argues, her protests coming out in frantic rasps as she fists my shirt. “Because you’re all I have. And if I don’t talk about it and get it out, then it stays inside. It builds and builds and soon it’ll be so crowded there won’t be room for me anymore.”

It shouldn’t make sense, but it does. The anger that has been building inside me all day stills, and I tuck her hair behind her ear. “Tell me.”

That small action seems to center her, and she lets out a soft breath, her fingers unclenching my shirt. “Being with you wasn’t the problem. It’s just that you’ve never said those words, and I’ve never felt like that before. It’s like…” Her eyes darken. “It’s like it wasn’t you saying them.”

I almost don’t ask because I’m afraid of the answer. “Has another man ever called you that?”

She shakes her head. “No. But that feeling.” A shiver ripples down her spine. “I’ve had bad dreams all my life. So bad I’d wake up screaming.” She inhales a labored breath. “I thought I got them under control. But then you came into my life, and I moved in here, and they came back. This scratching in the back of my head started again. But none of it’s the same, Dominic. Everything’s different. More vivid. More real. I’m seeing things and hearing things. Things that make no sense.”

“Rook, your life was upended. All that stress has to come out somehow. Not to mention the pressure you’re under with the movie and the constant press. It’s enough to drive anyone—”

“Crazy?” she finishes with a sad smile.

“You’re not crazy.”

“No? Then why did I lose my shit when you called me your ‘special girl’? Why did your face turn into zigzags, and why did I hear a woman laughing? If I’m not crazy then why do I keep counting in my head, but only make it to five before my throat feels like it’s stuffed with cotton balls? Answer me that.”

God, I wish there was a way I could.

Emotion claws up my throat as I trail my thumb down her cheek, catching the tears as they fall. I can’t give her answers, only a vow. “I will never let anyone hurt you.”

Not even you.

“Promise?” Tears fall harder as she collapses against me, her lips seeking a confirmation she won’t find. Instead of offering hollow words, I seal my vow with the only honest thing between us. I push her skirt up as she frantically undoes my belt. The minute I sink into her, she throws her head back, her cries drowning out my curses.

Curses because everything’s unraveling.

Curses because I’m not sure she knows whether her tears are from coming undone or coming unglued.

And curses because I won’t make her a promise I can’t keep.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

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