Page 102 of The Vow

“Last night,” he interrupted, holding up a palm to keep me at bay. A growl bubbled as he tugged at his collar, the button finally sacrificing itself with a solemn pop onto the floor. “Last night wasn’t supposed to happen.”

My brows stitched together, piecing what his plan was supposed to be. “You mean you were hoping I’d still hate you when you left this morning. That’s why you wanted me to leave your room last night. You wanted me to hate you so I wouldn’t follow. So, you could come here and martyr yourself.”

“I’m not martyring myself,” he scoffed and slammed the armoire door shut. “I came here to end this. To finalize the deal with Shazad, get the details of their part of the operation, and then bury them with it.”

“If they let you walk away.”

A harsh breath sliced through his lips. “You’ve been talking too much to Pat.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do when he’s the only onewho talks to me?” I retorted, banding my arms over my chest and taking another step closer to him.

His eyes sliced to mine—in warning—and then he balled his fingers like he was ready to punch a hole through the wood dresser. “I’m protecting you.”

The way he said it, it was different now. Now, all I heard was the pain and suffering of a man who’d turned himself into some threatening, unrecognizable creature that thrived in the underbelly of the dark so every other monster would be too scared to come close to me.

And it made my heart ache. All its broken pieces were nothing more than a mirror of the man who broke himself to save me.

“Damon, these men hate you. Belmont hates you for taking out Sinclair and the rest of his organization, and I’m sure Shazad doesn’t have good feelings for the man who destroyed his arrangement with Sinclair all those years ago.”

Frustration smoked from his lips before he turned away and hung his head, his hand cupping the back and curling into the taut muscles. “Most of the people I do business with don’t particularly like me, Robber. It’s the way of the world—ofthisworld.”

I took the opportunity to move closer, and the second I did, his gaze whipped to mine, and the argument we were having fractured with the electric pulse of want.

Last night had been something, but it wasn’t everything. It was a taste after a decade, and for two people who were starving, I couldn’t understand why he’d only held me as I slept, but now I did.

He knew he was leaving in the morning, and he knew what I said was true—that there was a chance he might not come back.

“I promised I would end them all for you,” he rasped.

I went to him. The air separating us rioted in the heat that volleyed between our skin. “At the expense of your life?”

“If it’s the price of my redemption, Robber, then so be it. It’s no less than what you deserve—” His voice broke, but then the deep drag of his inhale repaired it. “After everything they’ve done…after everything I’ve put you through…”

I lifted my hand to his cheek, feeling his jaw muscle tap against my palm. “And if it’s not what I want?”

He took my hand and lifted it from his skin, the blanch of pain on his features like he’d just pulled a knife out of his flesh. Holding my hand between us, he ran his thumb along the ring I’d replaced on my finger.

“Isn’t it?” He punctuated his question with the mark of his lips to my knuckles, heat cascading like wildfire along my arm and then flushing down my body.

My tongue felt heavy, the weight of fifteen years and a tumult of emotions paralyzing the powerful muscle for a prolonged second.

“I don’t want my justice to come from your sacrifice. I want…” My breath trembled, and it amazed me how vulnerable I became for this man. How I was so strong and sure for all these years, and then a single touch, a single kiss, and the idea that his plan this entire time was to sacrifice himself for my vengeance, and all my fortitude melted like ice under a flame. “I want you, Damon. At the end of this, I want my husband.”

He blanched like I’d struck him, and then he released my fingers and pulled his own through his hair, fisting the waved strands and tugging at their seams.

Wasn’t this what he wanted?All this time…all the things he said…

His arm fell to his side, his expression hardening into stone. “I’m going for a walk. Lock the door behind me.”

Pain lanced my chest like a wrecking ball of razor blades had smashed into it.

For weeks now, all he wanted was for me to hear his truth. For me to start to forgive him. For me to let him back in. And now, the moment I did, he wanted to walk away.

“So that’s it then? You’re just going to leave again?” I didn’t even bother to hide the acidic mixture of hurt and anger in my tone or the way it swelled when my voice wasn’t enough to even temper his stride. “You’d rather roam a house full of men who’d love to murder you than be here…with me…with your wife.”

That finally brought him pause. Damon turned his head in slow motion and rasped, “I’m trying to protect you.”

It was clear the sentiment had defined him so deeply for so long, he didn’t know how to loosen his hold on it…or its hold on him.

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