Page 47 of Redemption

“You want me to walk you back to your room?” he asked.

“No.”

“Want to head back on your own?”

She shook her head.

“I could call Mia…” He was out of ideas, and she seemed miserable.

“I don’t want to leave.” She inched back on the mattress, turning to face him. “I like being near you.”

“You look as though you’re going to fall off the edge.”

A sad laugh fell from her lips. “I don’t trust myself. My thoughts. My… me. I’m so lost.”

She didn’t want to sit on the bed, didn’t trust herself—just like when she confided about her job, thinking that she was a sham and couldn’t go back home.

“Give yourself a break. It’s alright to feel however you do.”

“Maybe.”

“What is it that you want? That you don’t trust.”

She looked away. “It’s so stupid.”

“Try me, love.”

“It sounds terrifying, and it’s not. I know it’s not because I sort of almost had it.”

“When did you almost have this mysterious thing?” he asked lightly, urging her on but not playing down whatever terrified her.

“Last night.”

His stomach dropped, not expecting that answer. “What was it?”

“A hug. Being held.” She lifted a nonchalant shoulder that was anything but. “You put your arm around me, and it was fine. Asking for a hug sounds as silly as it does scary…” Her voice trailed. “But it was nice.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, and not for the millionth time, he said a prayer that would let him seek vengeance against Ivan Mikhailov. “Not stupid or silly or anything you might worry about.”

“Logically, I know.”

“You dealt with a lot over there. It’s bound to creep up in ways that don’t make sense.”

“Mia mentioned that.”

Thank God Mia had a conversation with her about that. He didn’t want to press, but having a therapist in the house was exactly what Victoria needed. Yet another reason why Titan and the Winterses were likely letting Victoria stay as long as she needed: Mia could offer counseling whenever. “Good. Mia’s helped a lot of people work through a lot of things.”

She fidgeted on the edge of the bed.

“Victoria?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to come up here?” He held an arm up, needing her to make it her move.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

The hoarse neediness of the plea nearly killed him when she scurried close to his chest. He repositioned and angled down as if she were to lie next to him. Ryder scooted down also, wrapping his arm around her back, and Victoria laid her cheek below his shoulder. She wrapped an arm over his torso, and her fingers flexed into his side as she clung to him.

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