Page 90 of Darcy
She pressed a finger against my lips. “You never meant for any of this to happen. Men like Miguel prey on people with kind hearts. They don’t possess even a fraction of your goodness, and they use that.” She pauses. “That’s why there are people like me. To even the scales.”
I offer her a sad smile and kiss her finger until she moves it. “It doesn’t exactly make it better,” I point out. “I caused this mess, and now our beautiful girlfriend has to come save us? Some men would be unmanned by that.”
She raises a brow, asking a silent question.
“Fortunately, I’m not dumb enough to be one of them.”
Darcy has always been every inch a warrior. Even when the only thing I thought she was slaying was revenants and demonic spawn on the internet, I saw that about her.
Our girl is a contradiction. Nerdy, yet deadly.
It’s hot as hell.
“I have never once failed to get my mark,” she murmurs. “But this time, I’m going to make Miguel’s death hurt. I promise you that.”
Then, without warning, she slides her hand into my hair and pulls my face towards hers to capture my lips with her own.
Thirty-One
Darcy
Idon’t know why I do it. Maybe it’s because I’ve never seen him look so lost, or maybe it’s the simple human urge to offer comfort to those who need it.
Fuck it. I’m not lying to myself anymore. It’s because I love him. I always have. Trying to deny it is just not working.
I love the others, too—that’s why what they did hurt so damn much—but none of them has really tried to make things right as Arlo has.
Right now, he’s hurting, exhausted, and fighting a battle I can never really understand. But he still took the time to come and apologise to me, even though he didn’t have to. Even though we broke up, and he owes me nothing.
At the mental reminder, I draw back, blushing.
I don’t get far.
Arlo’s hand snaps out, long fingers grabbing my chin and holding me still as he fuses our mouths together again. This time, our kiss is deeper. His tongue sweeps out to dance with mine, and I can’t help melting into him. My eyes flutter closed, and my body tingles with awareness of him, demanding I get closer. Everything in me wants to kiss this man until our souls are so closely entwined that nothing on earth can tear us apart.
“What a surprise to find you two here,” Dodger teases.
I jerk back, and this time Arlo lets me go. I barely have time to catch the twin trails of moisture bisecting his brutal cheekbones before they’re wiped away and his glasses are back on. With all traces of his vulnerability erased, he turns to glare at Dodger and Slate.
The two of them are standing on the catwalk a few feet away, side by side and grinning from ear to ear.
“Did Ems tell you where I was?” Arlo demands. “What? Did you think I brought Darcy up here to get high with me?”
Dodger shakes his head. “Ems told us where you were because we asked her. We were coming to speak to you…”
“We wanted your input on our plan to get our girl back,” Slate continues, offering me a wry smile. “And here you are, already on the case.”
I stand, ready to stride away, but Arlo grabs my hand. “Stay,” he pleads. “They might be idiots, but they mean well.”
My walls, which are already halfway rebuilt after our intimate moment, tremble.
“Cariño,” Slate murmurs, sensing the weakness. “We never wanted to hurt you.”
Dodger meets my eyes. “I regret everything we did and said. Miguel threatened you, and I just about fucking died. I would’ve never forgiven myself if what happened to Sully happened to you.”
“The way we went about it was stupid, but our hearts were in the right place,” Slate finishes. “Can you give us another chance?”
Arlo slays me when I glance back at him and his lips form a near-silent, “Please.”
