Page 102 of Brutal Knight

And because he was so good to me, because he sacrificed so much, I couldn’t bear to tell him that there was just one more thing wrong with me. That I couldn’t give him this.

It was another sacrifice. And after all that Connor had sacrificed to protect me, I didn’t want to let him down again. Especially after I fell in love with him.

How could I ever be okay with it? How could I ever be happy with failing the man I love?

I never worked up the nerve to tell Connor that I couldn’t have children, and now, my father is telling him. It’s the worst way for him to find out.

The old fear rises in me again, reminding me that he’ll see me as damaged or useless.

That he’ll abandon me.

I can’t help the shame that wells up inside me. It chokes me, swelling my throat, stopping my words as I try to get them out. I can’t just stay silent. I have to say something.

Tears sting my eyes. I curl in on myself like I can block invisible blows, hits that aren’t landing. I can barely breathe. I realize I’m standing away from Connor, just inches, his arms no longer supporting me. It makes me feel empty and cold.

“I wanted—I tried,” I correct myself. I know what I have to say, but the words aren’t coming out right.

I don’t know how to tell him that I didn’t want him to know because I was afraid, but that I tried to gather the courage anyway.

I have no clue if he’ll ever believe anything I say again.

“I was going to.” I shake my head. My vision is blurry, my ears ringing like an alarm. “To tell you. I know—”

My father laughs. The sound makes me flinch, instinct kicking in. I step sideways, dodging from a blow that isn’t coming.

His laugh is ugly, uneven and unhinged. I try not to look at him, but I can’t help being drawn to his face. He just laughs at my pain, glee glinting in his eyes, and I know he thinks he’s won.

He might win. He might turn Connor against me.

“She’s a lying whore,” he says, his voice low. “You shouldn’t have trusted her. You should have just let me deal with her.”

Panic rises in me, acid in my throat.

“You can still let me deal with it,” my father continues. There’s a lopsided smile on his face, cruel and thin. “I don’t mind. We could all walk away from this. Say it never happened.”

I can’t move. Connor’s face is hard, and I can’t read his expression or guess what he’s thinking.

I feel sick. I know he wouldn’t hurt me. Would he let my father hurt me, though? Would he break this one promise in return for this truce?

Just the thought of it makes me cold. Imagining all the soft touches turned to hits and bruises, thinking of Connor’s mouth on mine turning into something harsh and sour—all the images assault me with darkness and hate.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” my father whispers, his voice harsh in the empty space. “What good is she to you now, anyway? You can let her go. Let her go, and just let me get rid of her. Then you can move on. To something better.”

Connor turns to me, finally, and I look for what I expect to see. Revulsion. Disappointment. Disgust.

I don’t see any of that.

I can’t tell what’s on his face. I can’t figure out what emotions are in his gaze, in the way he looks at me. I’m scared of the uncertainty, of what might come next.

“I always meant what I said,” he murmurs.

I’m still, frozen in place. “What do you mean?”

“We are a fucking family,” Connor says. “And we will be. No matter what.”

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I can’t even gasp.

He gestures to his brothers, still holding my gaze. “This is your family.Theseare the people who will always look out for you, no matter fucking what.”

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