Page 72 of Seeking Vengeance

I release a tight breath.

He’s concerned about me? After I accused him of having bad intentions, he’s still acting protective?

I blink through the sharp burn in my eyes and step back, needing to distance myself from the weakening effects of his patience and concern.

“Hey.” He reaches out, grasping my fingers to drag me into his chest. “Tell me you’re okay.”

I hold in a whimper, the fragile sound built from overwhelming gratitude. I wither against him, lowering my head to his shoulder, wrapping my arms around his waist.

In his embrace, I’m good.

I’m sheltered.

I’m whole.

“I don’t need you, Matthew,” I whisper against his skin. “I’m not someone who can’t take care of herself. I just…” I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m not used to having someone care for me. Not like this.”

“I understand.” He kisses the top of my head. “I don’t have anyone either.”

I lean back, needing to see the truth in his expression. “What about your family?”

“I have a mentor. But apart from him, Bishop is all I have. All I trust.”

He has it worse than I do, and now that I know of his isolation, I can see it. Loneliness is hidden beneath the confidence in his eyes.

“I have a feeling we’re similar in a lot of ways,” he continues. “Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to you.”

“And here I was thinking I’d captivated you with my body,” I tease.

“That, too.” He doesn’t laugh—there’s only the slightest upward curve to his mouth as he gives me a subdued kiss. When he pulls away, the humor is gone. “I want you to trust me.”

“I’m trying.”

“It doesn’t come easily for me either.” He kisses my nose. My forehead. The sweetest brushes of gentle lips. “We have to give it time.”

I sigh, nestling back into his shoulder. “It sounds like your life is as messed up as mine.”

“It was. But not anymore. I left it behind. You can, too.”

I close my eyes, picturing this dream world of his. One without notoriety etched into my family name. A place where tables aren’t turned on the daily and I don’t have to constantly watch my back. A utopia where Stella would always be safe.

“Want to tell me about the fight?” he asks into my hair.

“It was about you.”

The muscles of his chest stiffen. “You told your family about me?”

“No. But they guessed I’d met someone. Apparently, my face has a tell when I’ve received my first non-self-administered orgasm in years.”

He snickers, deep and sinful in my ear. “If I’d known it’d been that long—”

“Nope.” My face heats as I snap a finger to his lips, silencing him. “We arenottalking about my abstinence.”

His grin presses into my fingertip, the glimpse of a dimple teasing me from his left cheek. “But understanding why you’re confident in one moment and shy in the next is fucking cute.”

“Stop it.” My eyes flare. “There’s nothing cute about being daunted by someone else’s prowess.”

He’s right though.

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