Page 68 of Renard's Deliverance

She sighed, shaking her head. “I should have told him about my back. And I should have told him that I can get pushy and that I need someone to . . . to take control.”

He snorted. “Like Dean the dick could do that.”

“Renard,” she said firmly. “He’s not a dick.”

He crossed his arms over his wide chest.

“Damn it. Are you trying to distract me with your arm porn?”

“I wasn’t . . . but I’ll keep that in mind for later. Let’s ignore Dean the dick for the moment. Why haven’t you taken any painkillers?”

She glanced away. “I haven’t told you much about my past.”

“Haven’t told you much about mine either, Gem.”

Opal nodded. “Right. But there’s stuff you should probably know before . . . before we get into any sort of relationship that’s more than just sex.”

“What’s happening is about more than just sex. Could get sex at the club if I wanted, but I don’t. Because I’m not young and dumb anymore. I don’t go to the club to get my dick wet. I haven’t had sex in years. Not since my wife left me.”

“You were married?” she asked. “For how long? What happened?”

“Her name was Mary-Anne. We were married for ten years while I was a Marine. Then my whole team was killed by a group of extremists and I survived. I don’t know why. Most of the time, I wish I’d died with them. Certainly know that I don’t deserve to go on living a good life while they’re not.”

“What?” she asked. “You can’t think that.”

“Can and I do. Live with the guilt of surviving when they didn’t every day. Then when I came home, she couldn’t handle the state I was in. Can’t blame her. I was a mess. Night terrors where I’d think I was back there and scream so loudly I’d wake up the neighborhood dogs. She couldn’t approach me from behind without risking me taking her down. I could barely sleep, barely eat, and I was fucking angry all the time. I wanted to be dead and couldn’t understand why I wasn’t.”

“Renard, just because they died doesn’t mean you should feel guilty. You didn’t cause their deaths, right?”

“No. But they all had families, they all had reasons to live.”

“And I bet if you could ask them, they’d hate how guilty you feel. I can’t believe your wife left you. I’m so sorry.”

He gave a short nod. “When she said she couldn’t cope anymore and that she wanted a divorce, well, I packed a bag of my stuff up and headed out. Ended up living on the streets. I would manage to get a job only to get fired a few weeks or months later because of my combative attitude. Got no doubt I would have died on the streets were it not for Saxon.”

“He gave you a job here?”

“I knew him from the Marines. He got out before the attack. He saw me, brought me back here. Set me up in a job. I trained as a chef before I entered the Marines. He got me a place to live, helped me sort some of my brain out. And yeah, here I am. So, you gonna tell me what makes you so battered that you can’t take some painkillers when you clearly need them?”

“You forgot the dirty part,” she informed.

“Nope. I didn’t. I know you’re not dirty and I won’t hear you say that about yourself.”

“Renard’s rules?” she asked. “Don’t call myself a whore or dirty?”

“Don’t say anything bad about yourself,” he corrected. “And yeah, I have some rules.”

“Not sure I like rules.”

“Baby, not sure I’ve ever met someone who needs them more than you. And while you might not like them, they’ll make you feel safe. Every woman in this town has rules they have to follow.”

“Not sure the Grackle follows any rules,” she muttered.

“Maybe she doesn’t have someone who cares enough about her to make them. And enforce them.”

She tilted her head to the side. “You gonna spank me when I’m naughty, darlin’?”

“Yep. Problem?”

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