Page 126 of Broken Saint

Needing more, I drop my hands to her waist and lift her from the passenger seat.

“Colt,” she gasps as I place her across my waist. “We can’t?—”

“Fucking can,” I grunt, gripping her ass tight and dragging her closer.

“But—”

I cut her argument off with my lips, allowing myself to drown in her instead of what this place represents and all the pain and regrets that surround it.

She hesitates for about two seconds before her own desire takes over.

It’s always been hot between us, and I hope it never changes.

“Oh god, Colt,” she cries, her head falling back as I suck on the sweet spot beneath her ear.

“You’re my everything, Bombshell. You always have been,” I confess.

My hands are locked around her hips, grinding her against my aching length.

“Colton,” she gasps, rolling her hips in time with mine.

The windows around us are totally fogged up; no one outside would be able to see what we’re doing. Although, they’d probably be able to guess.

“Oh god,” she moans, her voice deep and raspy with need. “Do you…do you want to go and see her?” she forces out.

I still, her question turning my boiling blood to ice in an instant.

Feeling my reaction to her seemingly innocent question, she drags her eyes open and finds mine.

“W-what?” she stutters, her eyes bouncing between mine, trying to figure out what’s wrong.

“I-I can’t go and see her,” I confess quietly, my grip on her hips relaxing.

“Oh, why not?” she asks innocently.

Shaking my head, I reluctantly allow her to climb off me and back into her seat.

I miss her warmth and connection instantly.

“She…” I blow out a breath. As hard as everything else was to confess, this hurts even worse. “It’s my fault she’s in there.”

“No,” Ella argues just like I knew she would. “None of this is your fault.”

“It is if you ask her. She’s refused to see me since I secured her a place there. It’s the best facility in the state. But she doesn’t want it. Thinks I’ve thrown her in there because I don’t want to deal with her.”

“That’s not true,” Ella assures me.

I know that. I do. But it doesn’t make it any easier.

Mom wants to be independent and live her own life. I get it, I really fucking do. But we can’t allow it. I’ve experienced the outcome of that more than I’d ever wish on anyone.

I’ve found her in so many awful states. Some I’ve been able to deal with myself; others that have required immediate medical attention.

All of them just add to my fears of what my life could look like. I might have experienced a few lows, but they’ve been nothing compared to hers.

“I haven’t seen her in years, El. She refuses to let me in.”

Sympathy washes over Ella’s face.