Page 44 of Ruthless Salvation

She shrugged. “I told you. If there’s anyone who understands, it’s me. Sometimes life is complicated, and it sucks, but sometimes life is complicated in the most incredible way imaginable. I’ve never been happier since Keir came into my life. With a knife. After breaking into my parents’ house.”

I grabbed her hand. “Okay, that’s it. We’re finding a place to sit, and you’re telling meeverything.”

She laughed and let me tug her along.

We sat in the mall food court for over an hour, completely forgetting about shopping. I ate up her words far more hungrily than the soft pretzel in front of me. Their story was fascinating. It helped me realize that unconventional wasn’t necessarily bad.

“I appreciate you sharing all this,” I said with a warm smile.

“Absolutely. I just hope it helps. I may not know Torin well, but I know Keir, and I’m learning more about their family every day. They’re good people. Maybe not the most lawful, but still good. It took me a while to understand the difference.”

Rowan didn’t know, but she’d just touched on the crux of my dilemma. One of them, at least.

I was relieved to hear that Torin might not be as dangerous as my mind led me to believe, but that didn’t change my situation, did it? Even if he was a good man, was I willing to bring so much danger to him and his family by having a relationship with him? Keir and Rowan and Oran and all the other Byrnes. Could I, in good conscience, drag them into my nightmare?

Is that your decision to make? They’re freaking gangsters. Maybe what you think of as dangerous is just another Tuesday to them.

Time seemed to grind to a halt as the thought formed. Had I nurtured my fears so ardently that I failed to consider they might not be a problem for someone else? Or was I merely being selfish? I didn’t want to rationalize away the dangers just because I wanted to be with Torin.

I would have to give it some thought because my pastwasdangerous. It had long, pointy talons that could shred my world to pieces. My present wasn’t all that innocent, either, but was I willing to pit them against one another in a fight to the death?

The possibility chilled me to the bone.

Past

“Ivan’s wife seems nice.”If you were into beautiful and aloof—she hardly said five words all evening. Her English wasn’t great, but that hardly stopped the other wives and girlfriends I’d been introduced to in the past eight months. At least they smiled and tried to be friendly. I’d even become close with a couple. It felt so good to have female companionship again, especially since Damyon had been on edge ever since we’d returned from the trip to Paris he’d surprised me with two weeks ago.

“She was rather stunning, yet I noticed Ivan could not take his eyes off you.” His menacing undertones put me on alert.

I’d thought we’d put this sort of behavior behind us. He hadn’t stepped a toe out of line for months. But his temper had resurfaced, and I found myself constantly monitoring his moods and my actions. The last thing I wanted was to set him off, but it was so hard to tell sometimes what might flip that switch. I’d even begun to question whether staying had been the right decision.

“He probably wondered why someone as devastatingly handsome as you had picked a country bumpkin like me,” I teased, hoping to lighten his mood.

“Or he was enjoying the way your tits were on display.” His icy stare drifted down to my cleavage. “I knew I should have made you change before we left the house. You looked like a whore.”

My shoulders curled in as my hand drifted up to cover my chest. I wasn’t sure anyone had ever said something so hateful to me in my entire life. I wanted to wrap myself in a blanket to keep the downpour of shame from soaking me to the bone.

“You don’t mean that,” I whispered, eyes cast down to the floor. My chest had filled out the dress, but I hadn’t thought it was distasteful.

“I did not say you were one. Do not get melodramatic with me.” He walked dismissively to the crystal decanter full of his favorite vodka and poured himself a drink. “When you take that off, I expect to see it in the trash where it belongs.”

Tears pooled in my eyes as I walked away.

This wasnothow a relationship should be. I wrote off the incidents early on, but I couldn’t accept this type of behavior if it was going to be a pattern. He was like two different men. I adored the devoted man I first met, but this darker side of Damyon was terrifying. Hurtful. I needed some time to think. I needed my Honey.

Two hours later, I was curled up in bed when Damyon joined me. I’d been rehearsing what I wanted to say over and over in my head, but the words were still fragile and uncertain when I spoke.

“I was thinking, and I’d really like to take a short visit back home. I miss my friends, and that’s been weighing on me. It’s made me sensitive.” I hoped that if I made it sound like the conflict between us was my fault, he might be more agreeable. No matter how perfectly I worded my request, however, I fully expected resistance.

“You have a credit card. If you feel you need to take a trip, you’re welcome to make the arrangements.”

I turned to face him in my surprise. I’d been certain he would be upset.

“I knew there’d come a time when you wanted to go back,” he explained.

“Just for a visit. I’d love to see my family and friends and eat my weight in fried chicken.” My voice was light and carefree. I wanted to reassure him in every way possible that he was making the right choice.

Damyon clicked off his bedside lamp and lay on his side facing away from me. “Do what you need to do, moya angel.”