Page 51 of Never Wed an Outlaw

“No, I do. Let's go inside. I'll tell you everything.”

He looked at me for a long second. I gasped when he reached out, snatching me by the wrist, jerking me to his chest.

“Better be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the bald fuckin' truth this time around. If I think you're hiding so much as what you ate for breakfast this morning, Iwillpull down your panties, throw you over my lap, and spank you 'til you scream. Got it?”

I did, shuddering. The time for denial ended. It would've be suicide to do anything else with this crazy, beautiful bastard who'd just killed two monsters, and saved my life. He still turned me on, too.

Whether it was just his crude promises or raw adrenaline humming in my system, my panties were soaked.

Amazing. Especially when I looked down at my collar, the same place he fixed his eyes, and I realized I was still wearing Franco's blood.

“Can I change first?” I asked, my eyes slowly meeting his. “Please, Dusty?”

“Do it fast. Put that fuckin' shirt in a bag, and hand it off to me when you're done. We can't leave any missingpieces around when my boys show up to clean this mess.” Dust walked several steps past me. He ripped open the screen door, holding it and waiting while I walked past, into my home, now freed from its evil occupiers.

I ran upstairs for a quick change, careful to throw the bloody shirt into the bathroom trash, and then pull the whole thing out. I'd solved a lot of problems in my life, but I never thought I'd be dealing withaccessory to murder, even if it was justified self-defense.

My eyes were red in the mirror. Too many tears, too much stress, and now they held a thousand questions.

Was there any coming back from something like this?

Sure, Dusty saved my life. I'd be grateful, no matter what happened. But he'd also picked me up and thrown me into uncharted waters.

Time to sink or swim. If I couldn't adapt, learn to forgive, and keep my head up, a lot more people were going to die.

Dom was still out there. He'd come for me when he found out what happened to his men, and he'd be after the club, too.

Face, meet palm. Everything I lied my ass off to protect was exposed.

An hour later,we sat in my kitchen, listening to the noises down the hall. The prospects scrubbed things clean, disappearing every last trace of the Sicilians' DNA. Their bodies were already long gone.

I didn't ask where. It wasn't any of my business. Ironic, I guess, because my entire miserable life just became an open book for the handsome angel of death sitting across from me.

Dust had his hands on the table, staring me down like a lion. He'd refused the wine and whiskey I offered. Muttered something about how he never drank when shit went down. Not until it was over.

Nothing except the truth would calm him down. I only got a few words in before the tears came.

“I'm sorry...this is really hard for me to talk about,” I sputtered.

He snatched my hand, squeezed it in his, and raised it to his lips. His lips landing on the back of my hand set me off all over again. Brutal anguish rolled out in waves, pure poison, fermented by the months I'd clung to my dirty, shameful secret.

“Take as long as you need to dry your eyes, darlin'. Then you fuckin' talk. I ain't backing down 'til you tell me what the hell's going on here.”

He deserved that much. I had to collect myself for him. Make no mistake, ithurtto admit I'd done wrong.

Pain reached through me, hijacked my heart, and reminded me I'd done far worse thanwrong.I'd almost screwed him over, and gotten myself killed, all in the same go.

“I lied to you. Lied to my brother, to the law, and to myself.”

“Already figured that much,” he said, his voice rough and low. “Why?”

“Huck and me grew up with practically nothing. You've heard his stories, I'm sure, the Christmases we were lucky to get marbles and chocolate bars. The gun momma kept underneath her pillow, all of us sleeping in the same room...it shapes a kid, and not for the better. We lived under siege, grew up closer than any family ought to be. She'd be near us if the meth heads down the street broke in, tried to rob us, or worse.”

“Everybody's got a sob story, darlin',” he said roughly. “Believe me, my heart's bleedin' for you. But I'm not seeing how it's the least bit fuckin' relevant here.”

I looked at him angrily. “I'm getting there. I thought maybe if you knew the background, you'd understand.”

“You're missing the whole point to this, babe. Am I pissed you lied to me? Sure.” His eyes narrowed, pulling me in a little deeper, into the endless storm raging in his grey irises. “Judging you for whatever the fuck you did or didn't do won't fix a damned thing. We can sort the rest of this out when you stop giving me your life story, and start telling me why the fuck I killed two assholes who wanted you dead.”

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