Page 66 of Betrayed
My tone goes to coals. “I was certainly burning tonight.”
“I thought that’s where you were.” She looks down.
“Scoot over.”
She slides over, making room for me on the bed beside her. I sit with her, wrapping my arm as tightly around her shoulders as I can. She stays wrapped tight in her little knot. Snuggling in close to my side.
Finally, she asks, “Is it over?”
“He’s gone. Caleb is dead.”
She peers up at me with a shy smile. “You wanted to be the one to do it, didn’t you?”
“You think I was going to let anyone else avenge you?” I shake my head. “Not a chance.”
She throws her arms around my neck with a choked sob. “Thank you, Lucian. Thank you…” Her words fade, but her kiss says everything.
I kiss her back, then kiss the salty tears from her cheeks.
She pulls away to ask, “And my other hostage?”
“We released him tonight. His freedom in exchange for Caleb’s life. Rory swore that there will be no retaliation from the Hoax.”
We hope he keeps his word to prevent a war.
“Can you imagine? Your own son? Even if it is Caleb.” She falls silent, thinking. Then says, “I can’t ever thank Bayne and his men enough. I don’t want to leave them with any mess to clean up.”
She goes quiet again.
I stare over at her. “Are you okay?”
“I worry Rory will come for his grandson. Cass can’t lose Ryan.” She shrugs. “I worry so much that I don’t know what okay means anymore.”
I sit on the edge of the mattress. “You don’t have to be anything right now, Erin. You just have to breathe. You’re safe and they’re safe.”
“Thank you, Lucian,” she whispers in my ear, hugging me tightly. “You didn’t have to do any of this. But you did.”
I hold her tightly. “I wanted to.”
“I should’ve told you sooner,” she whispers. “About what Caleb did to me.”
“I know why you didn’t. It would hurt Cass if she found out. Always protecting those you love.” I tip a finger under her chin, forcing her gaze. “Thank you for trusting me with your secret. I’ll never tell, it’s only yours to share.”
“There’s something else I want to say.” Silence lingers between us. I wait. “I thought maybe,” she says, voice trembling, “if I hurt you… a faceless mafia man bidding on a vulnerable woman, if I took the money and used you, maybe I’d feel in control. That I’d have some kind of twisted revenge.”
I smooth a hand over her hair. “Makes sense.”
“It doesn’t,” she says. “Not really. Especially since you were never supposed to be—you, someone I cared about, someone good. And it turns out you were vulnerable too.”
“Careful now. I’m made of bullets and steel and barbed wire. No emotions.”
She laughs. The sound is sweet.
I move to the floor to kneel in front of her. I take her hands and press them against the sides of my face. She gasps. Her fingers tremble.
“Look at me,” I say.
She does.
