Page 71 of Ruthless Salvation
Torin had returned sooner than I’d expected. To what end? I wanted to peek at him to assess his mood but was too embarrassed. Instead, I sat motionless and listened to his steady footsteps as he passed behind me and sat on the bed.
“I was sixteen when I was charged with possession of cocaine,” he started in an achingly hollow voice. “It wasn’t mine. I had permission to use the family car for the afternoon and had taken some friends to the beach. We’d had a few beers, so when I got pulled over, the cop smelled alcohol and decided to search the car. They found a dime bag of coke under the driver’s seat. I was handcuffed and arrested on the spot.”
He took a long, even breath, making me realize I’d been holding mine, riveted by what he was telling me.
“I yelled and begged for my friends to fess up, knowing one of them had been responsible, but they wouldn’t even look me in the eye. They watched me get taken away and did nothing.” The disgust in his tone was understandable. I couldn’t imagine being punished for something I hadn’t done. “My dad was the only Byrne brother who didn’t fall in line with the family business. He was of the opinion that my crime was hanging with the wrong crowd. He didn’t reach out for help to get me off, hoping the sentence would be a wake-up call for his youngest and most undisciplined kid. I spent a year in that cesspool, and those guys I’d called friends let it happen to save their own asses. I may have been young, but I learned some hard truths I’ve never forgotten.That’swhy I don’t let people in. Because I don’t trust anyone. And I had no reason to expect you to trust me.”
This wasn’t supposed to be happening.
I should have been leaving, not growing more attached. Yet with every word Torin spoke, my heart rooted itself further in him and everything about this life I’d created in New York. Tearing myself away would mean severing parts of myself that would never grow back.
When I first came to the city, I’d already craved stability—a home and friends where I could settle in. Maybe I was meant to find Moxy. Maybe Torin and I crossed paths for a reason.
But what did that mean? Was I supposed to take the leap and come clean? I was terrified he’d get hurt, not to mention worried he’d be furious that I’d hidden so much from him.
You’ve faced near death and total heartbreak multiple times and survived. You’ll survive this too.
It was true, but one thought bolstered me more than any other. If I told him everything, I’d know how he’d respond—one way or the other. The endless uncertainty would be over.
Torin had presented a chance at honesty and vulnerability and hope. A chance to have everything I’d ever wanted. Couldn’t I summon the courage to meet him halfway?
Slowly, I turned and met his stare. The sight of my tearstained cheeks softened his features, but he didn’t move. He’d done his part. The rest was up to me.
I stood and walked hesitantly to where he sat, then crawled onto his lap, straddling him. Torin held me in place, his hands clasping my backside. His nostrils flared as his fingers gently kneaded my flesh, but he made no other move. He only watched and waited.
My fingers toyed absently with the neckline of his shirt while I summoned my courage, eyes cast down between us. “Idotrust you. That’s what scares me,” I finally admitted on a breathless whisper.
Voicing the words made my heart flutter like a drunken butterfly. I didn’t get any more out when his hand cupped my jaw and forced my gaze to meet the savage intensity in his.
“Say it again,” he ordered in a low rumble.
“I trust you.”
His thumb swiped slow across my bottom lip, then tugged it down before his strong hand collared my throat. “Again,” he demanded.
“I trust you, Torin Byrne.” This time, the words came with more ease—confident and bolstered by a hint of challenge.
A feral growl wrenched from deep in his chest as he pulled my lips to his. He brought his hand around from the front of my neck to the back, holding me precisely where he wanted me while his tongue plundered my mouth.
What he did was so much more than a kiss. With each press of his lips and swipe of his tongue, he penned a binding contract between us. An oath I worried would shatter when he learned the truth about me. When he heard the name of the man who was hunting me and discovered the extent of my trauma, because it was so much more than what could be seen by the naked eye. More than the emotional damage.
I’d been robbed of my ability to bear children.
On top of everything else, that strike against me felt like the kiss of death. And maybe it was just my own feelings of inadequacy, but I couldn’t imagine anyone thinking a relationship with me would be worth the trouble. And there would be trouble because Damyon was here in the city. It was only a matter of time.
Torin tore his lips from mine as though he’d heard my thoughts.
“I’m fucked up, Storm. I won’t deny it. I couldn’t be normal if I tried.”
“I don’t want normal.” Normal would never understand me.
His hand fisted in my hair, and I felt him grow impossibly harder beneath me. “Don’t say that shit unless you mean it because I’m already in too deep. I can’t explain it to myself any more than I can to you. I just know that you’re meant to be mine.”
“You don’t mean that.” My heart began to crack as I whispered the words because I felt the end coming as the truth forced its way to the surface.
“Why the fuck not? You don’t believe me?”
I shook my head. “Not that. It’s just that … you wouldn’t want me if…”