Page 276 of Unexpected Heroine

Spearing one hand through my hair, he gently strokes the locks, then tucks it behind my ear. “What, sugar?”

“As to why your alias came out of your mouth initially, I don’t know. Perhaps it was an instinct to shield yourself from me, thus hiding why you showed up in my life. Since you intended it to be a drive by encounter, why say anything that could potentially lead me to my father. Farfetched as it may seem, I can buy this possibility. But...”

“What?”

“After that, you should have told me it was your club alias, and now that we knew each other better, you no longer needed to use it with me. I would have understood, and it wouldn’t have been a lie. We became so close, so fast, you had to know I’d have heard you out. Sure, I’d overreact at first, but I liked and felt safe with you. You would have convinced me it wasn’t malicious.”

“Then wha?—”

Pressing my finger to his mouth, I shush him. “Shh. I’m not done.”

He tilts his head down, silently apologizing for interrupting.

“Maybe you wanted to protect the real you from me. From the feelings I brought out in you. Withholding your real name was your way of holding yourself back. I couldn’t reject Tomer if there was only James.”

For a moment, he’s lost in thought. His face pinches, and his lips bunch to one side.

When he doesn’t respond, I offer up something personal in exchange like an emotional bartering system. “You aren’t the only one who lied about their name to protect themselves, you know.”

His eyes come into sharp focus. “What do you mean?”

I study the way my hand fiddles at his shirt collar. “At the nightmare house on the morning I woke up there.”

My eyes crimp to stave off the brewing waterworks.

His rich, soothing timbre yanks me from the dark road my thoughts were starting to journey down. “Look at me, sweetness. You’re here with me. You’re safe.” Brushing faintly over my cheek, his thumb sweeps away the single tear that escaped.

Like magic, his magnetic eyes whisk me to a peaceful meadow at sunset. His familiar scent wafts around us, propelled by the wind of a butterfly’s fluttering wings.

In his arms, there is quiet and peace. I’m cherished and protected.

After soaking in his tranquility for a few seconds, I finish my explanation. “When I woke up, one of the girls asked my name. On reflex, I spat out, ‘Ana.’ I didn’t know why I did it at first. It wasn’t a conscious thought. I had no reason to deceive her. Do you know why I didn’t give her my real name?”

“To hide a part of yourself?” he surmises.

“Sort of.” I dampen my dry lips with a few swipes of my tongue. “Babe, I didn’t want that place to have my name. I knew they were gonna take everything else from me. Keeping my name was part defense mechanism and part defiance. Like silently flipping them off, even if I was the only one who knew I was doing it. Not defying the girl who asked, but the men. I felt they wouldn’t hurt the real me if they didn’t even know my name. They might batter and break Ana, but Lettie was safe.”

“You were protecting yourself.”

Through wobbly lips fighting off a sob, I say, “I tried.”

A barren darkness settles behind his eyes when he connects the dots. “He knew your name, though. Your real one. Right?”

Viktor.

I nod, struggling to hold back the deluge.

Knowing my abuser took the last sliver of comfort I’d preserved for myself—my anonymity—made me hopeless. I wondered how I’d ever survive it with him knowing my name.

Looking back, it seems foolish. However, when I was living it, my name was all I thought I could save. It was my last shred of control.

And Viktor took it from me.

Tomer cradles the side of my head, pressing my cheek against his chest. It’s not enough comfort. I might be on Tomer’s lap with my legs flung over his thighs, but it’s still too dang far away. I’m suffering from the pesky feminine urge to crawl under his skin and live there.

Adjusting my position, I shift, spreading my thighs to straddle him. My arms settle on his shoulders, my hands laced at his nape. He supports my lower back, tucking his hands behind me to lock me in place.

Gradually, our breathing syncs up.

---