Page 60 of Spinner's Luck

And secrets in this life? They were a death sentence.

I just hoped those secrets wouldn’t be the death of us.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

SPINNER LAY BESIDEme, his arm draped possessivelyover my waist, his body warm against mine. The faint scent of his cologne lingered between us, grounding me like a lifeline I wasn’t sure I deserved.

I should’ve felt safe. And I did—mostly. But guilt twisted in my chest, sharp and unrelenting. He didn’t know the truth. Not all of it, anyway. And every moment I stayed silent felt like stacking another brick onto the wall rising between us.

“You’re quiet,” Spinner murmured, cutting through the darkness. “That’s not like you.”

I forced a faint smile, my fingers brushing over the ink on his arm, tracing the lines and shapes like they could distract me from the storm in my head. “Just thinking,” I whispered.

“About what?” His fingers grazed my hip, the steady rhythm of his breathing grounding me as much as it unsettled me.

I hesitated, my gaze fixed on the cracked ceiling above us. “About my past... my parents. About... us.”

He shifted beside me, his hand sliding up to rest against my stomach, his touch warm. “You wanna talk about it?”

“I feel close to you,” I admitted softly, turning my head to meet his gaze. His dark eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, the rest of the world melted away. He had this way of looking at me—like he could see through every layer I tried to hide behind. It terrified me. And yet, I craved it.

“I’m not used to this... whatever this is between us. When Aria died, my parents pulled away from me. My mom faded until she was just a ghost in the house. Then she died from her grief. And my dad... he held on, but barely. He passed three years ago, and I was okay. I’d already learned how to be alone. How to take care of myself. This thing with you? It’s new. I don’t always know how to handle it.”

Spinner’s arm tightened around me, his voice a murmur against my hair. “I get it, Lucy. I grew up not havin’ anyone either. A loner, learnin’ to fend for myself. Maybe that’s why we get each other.”

I swallowed hard, the intimacy of his words both soothing and suffocating. “Do you ever think about your parents?” I asked, steering the conversation away from myself. It wasn’t a graceful transition, but Spinner didn’t seem to notice—or mind.

His silence stretched for a moment, the air between us thick and heavy. “Yeah,” he said finally, his voice weighted with something I couldn’t quite place. “Every damn day.”

I stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue, sensing the shift in his tone.

He let out a slow breath, his fingers drumming lightly against my stomach, like he was building up the courage to say what came next. “I found him,” he said, barely louder than a whisper. “When I was ten. I was the one who found him.”

My chest tightened, and my voice wavered. “Found him?” I asked, though the answer was already painfully clear. The grief stamped into his words made my heart ache.

He nodded, his jaw tightening. “He shot himself. Mom... she drove him to it. Her lies, her bullshit—it broke him, piece by piece, until there wasn’t anythin’ left.”

“Spinner...” I didn’t know what to say. What could I say to that? My hand moved instinctively, brushing against his cheek. He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into my touch like it was the only thing keeping him with me.

“She wasn’t even sorry,” he went on, his voice hardening with each word. “She packed her shit and left, knowin’ damn well what he might do. I shut down that day. They put me in a psych hospital—I wasn’t talkin’ to anyone. Not her, not the doctors. Nobody. I thought when I got out, I’d go home, but it wasn’t home anymore. She married the guy she was screwin’ around with and moved in with him. I cut her off after that. Best decision I ever made.”

“That’s awful,” I whispered, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips, wanting to give him anything—everything—to take away the pain I couldn’t fix. “I guess for both of us, childhood wasn’t a happy place.”

His fingers tightened on me like he needed me to hold him together. “That’s why I don’t do lies, Lucy,” he said, his voice rough but steady. “I can’t. Lies destroy everythin’. They eat you alive from the inside out until there’s nothin’ left but dust.”

His words hit like a blow—pointed and unavoidable. Lies. Secrets. The things I’d been holding onto, the very things he despised. They pressed down on me now, a suffocating weight that grew heavier with every second.

“I get it,” I said softly, my voice trembling despite my efforts to keep it steady.

His gaze softened, though I could see the walls he was already rebuilding from reliving his past. “Things got heavy quick, huh?”

I took a shaky breath, resting my hand on his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart. “Yeah, they did.”

His lips twitched, and I knew he was trying to shift the mood for both our sakes. “Let’s lighten it up, then,” I murmured, letting my voice drop, husky and teasing.

Spinner smirked, his hands moving to pull me on top of him. “Go ahead, darlin’. Start changing the mood,” he murmured, his lips finding mine.

I let myself get lost in him, in the heat and safety of his touch. But no matter how hard I tried, the guilt of what I hadn’t told him clung to me like a second skin. Tomorrow. Tomorrow night, I’d tell him everything. Whatever happened after that, I’d deal with it.

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