Page 79 of Betrayed

Sure, they were nice on a surface level, but none of them would have held me the way he did,the way he is. They wouldn’t put my needs first, or stop me from kissing them because they didn’t want me to regret it in the morning.

“You’re wrong. You’re one of the gentlest, kindest men I’ve ever met.” I said, poking his rock-hard chest to emphasize each word.

“Blake,” my name sounded like a prayer on his lips.

“I mean it. You’ve been kinder to me these last few days than anyone else my whole life.” Except my mom and dad, but that was a given. Parents had to be kind and gentle with their kids.

Chapter 39

AJ

Iwanted to believe her, but there was so much she didn’t know. Desperately needing to change the topic, I asked about her mother.

Blake squinted her eyes at me, as if debating whether she should call me out. Luckily, she didn’t.

“My mom was amazing. She would read to me, play with me in the backyard, and make my lunches, even after my dad hired a cook.” Blake’s eyes radiated love and sadness as she painted a picture of her mother. “She was short like me, so she kept a stool in the kitchen. I always stood on it when I helped her.”

“Do you look like her?” I asked. I loved seeing her eyes light up with joy as she shared the memories.

“Mostly. I have my dad’s eyes, but my other features are from my mom. Though she got the skinny genes, and I got my dad’s not-so-skinny genes.” Self doubt filler her eyes as she circled her midsection and hips with the wave of a hand.

No way I'd let that take root. Blake was beautiful, with curves in all the right places. “Don’t do that.” I took her hand. “You’re beautiful.”

She bit her lower lip, making me think things I had no right thinking.

“Thank you,” she said shyly. After an awkward pause, she asked, “What about you, which parent to do you look like?”

I flinched internally at the thought. I was the spitting image of my father, only three inches taller. Not that he knew that little fact, having left before I reached my full height. Too bad, because I was a hell of a lot stronger by then, too.

If he’d stayed, I would have forced him to stop hitting us. At least I’d like to think I would have. He’d beaten obedience into me more times than I cared to remember.

“I take after my father’s side of the family.” It was all I'd admit.

“What about your mom?”

She was beautiful once, but in most of my memories, she appeared small, weak, timid. He’d made her that way. She was always there to help me clean off the blood, but she was afraid to stand up to him.

“She was taller than you,” I said, resorting to my default setting and making a joke out of my answer.

I didn’t like the awkward silence, but didn’t know what to say.

“AJ, why do you think you’re not a good man?” she asked, returning to the topic I’d been trying to avoid.

How do I make her understand I’m dangerous?

“Have you forgotten about me tackling your friend and that innocent guy asking for a signature?” I was laying it on pretty thick, having done neither, hoping she’d remember how violent I could be. “I’m a violent man.” I hardened my heart as I looked her in the eyes. “And you hate violence.”

I could see the wheels turning in her head as she thought about it.

“You’re not violent. You were doing your job,” she said, throwing me a curve ball.

When’d she change her mind?I released her as I sat up. This wasn’t going the way I’d expected, and I needed to create distance.

“I was, but I could have been less physical with them,” I argued, using her words. Not that I believed them; I’d used the force necessary to get the job done.

“AJ.” She put her hand on my arm. “Why are you trying so hard to convince me you’re a bad person?”

Because I need you to stop looking at me like that. Like you could love me back.

---