Page 97 of Talk to Me
“You are not weak and you are not a victim.” I gripped her chin lightly, not letting her look away from me. “You were a prisoner of war. You were tortured. You suffered. Now you’re free. Freedom—doesn’t always fit after you’ve been through the kinds of things you’ve been through. That’s okay. You work it like any other problem—one day at a time.”
“I wasn’t all that normal before,” she protested, then she scraped her teeth over her already abused lower lip. “McQuade… what if I can’t do it?”
“You will.”
“But what if I can’t?”
“Then you’ll find a new way. Remember, what is the only bad plan?”
“Not having one.” She closed her eyes and when I should have pulled my hand back, I found myself cradling her cheek. Then she rested her face against my palm. “I don’t like to sleep.”
“Okay, what can I do?” Because I would do whatever she needed.
“I need—I need to work. I need to have what I can control, what I can do—I need my power back.” The adage that you just had to admit what a problem was to begin to defeat it annoyed me. On the one hand, it was partially true. But identifying it also meant letting yourself be vulnerable.
Right now, the very last thing Patch wanted was more vulnerability.
I dipped my head and brushed her lips with mine. I intended for it to be a quick kiss. A sip. A single taste. But the brief moment turned into so much more. She parted her lips, sealing my fate. I all but fell into the kiss like a dying man in the desert. She was the oasis and the promise of heaven all at once.
Devouring her would be so fucking easy and my cock had gone rock hard at the first tentative touch of her tongue. I’d brought her in here to get her to sleep, not to seduce her. I forced myself to break the kiss because no matter how badly I wanted her, she wasn’t ready for me.
She wasn’t ready for that right now.
“You need a shower,” I told her. “It’ll help with the stiffness. Then into some pajamas and take your pain meds. Then I’ll stay with you until you go to sleep.”
She blinked up at me. The shadows in her eyes darkened the gray to something bruised and aching.
“Trust me,” I whispered. “I know I just kissed you, but I promise, I’ll be a fucking priest while I help you. No one is going to touch you without your consent.”
Her silence speaks volumes and then she presses a hand over my chest.
“I believe you.”
Three beautiful words.
“Will you help me?”
Four more. Raw. Vulnerable. Open.
“With anything,” I promised.
Maybe I couldn’t fight her demons head on, but I could back her up every step of the way.
Chapter
Thirty-One
PATCH
Irocked the pen back and forth between two fingers as I stared at the feed from the bots. I’d released far more this time, sending them on a direct harvest for information rather than just a skim. A timer ran in the upper right corner. Every second seemed to reverberate with my pulse, adding an extra dimension to it.
Movement in the kitchen behind me served as a reminder that I wasn’t alone. The guys took turns. One of them was always awake. It had been that way since we arrived. The only two who left remained McQuade or Locke.
Remington preferred to be here. It was safer for me to remain out of sight and I was fine with it. With the exception of not being in my safe room or having the routine I’d once embraced wholeheartedly?—
Had they noticed I was gone? Jimmy, who brought my groceries and Vince, who often brought up my mail or packages?
Would they have reported me missing?