“You don’t think I can save you?”
“No.” Lower lip trembling, I gripped the white sheet blanketing my aching legs tight. “No one c-can.” My voice cracked on the last word, revealing just how hopelessly broken I’d come to feel. “Not when my soul is already halfway to hell.”
The rage lining his face vanished.
“Beautiful—”
“Don’t call me beautiful when I am the furthest thing from it,” I interrupted, shaking my pounding head the slightest bit. “And don’t tell me I’m wrong one more time, because I certainly am not. After the things I’ve done, after the pain I’ve caused—that I continue to cause, I deserve nothing less than unending torment.”
Eyes flashing with understanding, hurt seeped into his pupils; silence descended. Then, “Once again, you are way off base,” he whispered, shaking himself free of the fog that had seemingly overtaken him as my previous words obviously stirred something inside him.
His own demons perhaps?
“And I’m going to prove to you exactly how far,” he continued to argue. “But first”—he raked his tongue across his full bottom lip, leaving a gleaming trail of wetness behind—“there’s something else I need to do. I just pray it isn’t the wrong thing.”
My brows drew together. Confused, I stared up at him, my pain-stricken body frozen in place. “And what is it that you need to do?”
Eyes never leaving mine, he softly stroked the sensitive column of my throat. “This.”
He quickly closed the tiny amount of space that remained between us and pressed his mouth to mine, giving me no chance to react.
The kiss—the first genuine one I’d ever been given—quickly stole what little oxygen my lungs still held.
Head spinning, my brain rioted, screaming that everything about the moment was wrong.
Evil men had hurt and abused me for almost half my life, and though James swore that he was no longer the devil he’d once self-admittedly been, common sense shrieked that I needed to push him back.
But my heart, the idiota, roared the opposite.
Unable to fight the inexplicable pull between us and increasingly desperate for the continued feel of his lips caressing mine, I accepted the kiss, along with the man giving it to me.
Though my yo-yoing feelings made no sense to me, especially given how enraged and sickened I’d been over the confessions he’d made weeks before, I couldn’t battle the truth that I felt to the depths of my rattled bones.
And that truth? It was that there was a lot more to James Cole than the bad past that stained his soul and marred his heart. I don’t know how such a thing was possible, but I sensed the light in him.
A light so bright it was nearly blinding.
Feeling every ounce of my resolve melt away, I lifted both of my trembling hands without thought or continued hesitation and palmed his stubble-covered cheeks as the heavenly feel of his beautiful mouth touching mine brought a euphoria stronger than any high I’d ever experienced before.
That kiss, as unexpected as it had been, was nothing short of bliss, and I prayed that it would never end. Unfortunately for me, it did just that, when seconds later, three loud knocks—and they were loud—reverberated through the small room as someone pounded their heavy fist against the door in rapid succession.
Boom, boom, boom!
An incoherent curse slipped past his lips after James ripped his mouth from mine. Panting for precious breath, he clenched his jaw tight and snapped his head toward the door.
Glaring at it through hard, narrowed eyes, he slid off the bed and climbed to his booted feet, his entire body a wall of tense, rigid muscle.
“Don’t move.”
Succumbing to the wave of fear that flooded my veins, I said nothing—though I tried like you wouldn’t believe—as he hurried toward the door. Upon reaching it, he wrapped his hand around the flimsy handle and peered through the peephole drilled into the center of the painted metal slab.
Mind in freefall, my heart thumped in time with each of my ragged breaths as I studied his reaction for any sign of who stood on the other side.
Was it El Diablo?
Faye?
Mi chicas?
I barely bit back a terror-driven scream when he stepped back, disengaged the deadbolt, and pulled the door open without speaking a word.
Left in the dark and not knowing who was about to emerge into the room, I pushed to my elbows and quickly scanned the area for a weapon of any kind to protect myself if the need arose.
Spotting my ratty old fur coat across the room, one which I wore as a shield to cover the invisible shame that was tattooed across every inch of my skin, I sighed in momentary relief.
My knife would be in the pocket. But to use it, I had to get up, a task that seemed almost impossible in my weakened state.
Please don’t let it be Dominic.
If it is—
My frantic thoughts dissipated on the spot when a young woman, followed by a man, stepped inside. It was the first time I’d ever set eyes on her, but I’d seen him before, though I didn’t know his name.
And that man? He was James’s son.
Hidden in the alley across from the fire station, I’d watched him, along with his father, on more than one occasion. Yet, even if I hadn’t seen them together half a dozen times before, I would’ve known who he was with one quick glance. Other than their noticeable age difference, he was nearly identical to James.
Their resemblance was uncanny.
“Hi,” the woman said, pulling my gaze from James and his lookalike son. With her freckle-covered face, emerald-colored eyes, and warm smile, she reminded me of Little One.
Immensely so.
“My name is Maddie.” Her voice was soft and sweet. Almost melodic sounding. “And I work at the Toluca Battered Women’s Shelter over on Sycamore Street.”
I immediately froze.
“I don’t mean to intrude, but I’m here because Handsome back there”—she hooked her thumb and pointed over her shoulder to James’s son, who stood behind her,
