CHAPTER 27
The flash of Amber’s eyes and the set of her jaw made Van’s stomach drop. Fuck, his words had come out all wrong. They clotted the space between them, shoving them apart.
She yanked her head from his hands. “That’s why you’ve been forcing me outside? You thought you could fix me, that I could vouch for you?”
The sadness in her voice ripped him in half, but he refused to let go of her or give up on this. He grabbed her wrists and held them against his chest. “You could tell her I’d be a good father, that I would never hurt my daughter.”
A tremble skittered across her chin. Her arms twisted in his hands, her fingers clutching his jacket. Then, in an unexpected move, she lifted on tiptoes and pressed her mouth against his.
The beat of his heart stumbled as she kissed him without resentment or anger or any of the reactions he’d feared. He was numb with shock, dizzy with lust, swirling his tongue over her lips. Fuck him, those lips. He needed them on his body, on his cock. He needed to tug it out and shove it inside her, to bury himself in the place she accepted him.
She broke the kiss and spoke quietly. “I don’t think you’d hurt your daughter like you’ve harmed all the other women in your life.” He opened his mouth to agree, and she pressed a finger over his lips. “In fact, I think you’re done treating women that way.”
“I am—”
“Shh.” She dropped her hand. “You would be a great father. Fierce and protective and attentive.”
God, that felt good to hear. He pressed his lips tight to keep from smiling like an asshole.
Her eyes darted away, and she leaned back. “But I can’t be the one to confirm that, Van. I can’t...” She shook her head. “I can’t leave. I’m not fixed.”
There lay the crux of his conflict over the last few weeks. He didn’t just want her fixed for his purpose. He pulled her back to him with her forearms pinned against his chest. “That’s not why I want you. I just want...I need you to want to be by my side.”
She sniffed, her eyes closing then cutting back to him. “You said there were four? Four people you cared about?”
Ah, there was his little countress. He might’ve grinned if his chest didn’t hurt so badly. “Number four...” He blew out a breath, lowered his brow to hers, and told her the truth. “When I met her, I wanted to pick apart her mind and play with the pieces. I wanted to become her obsession, her solitary devotion, her fear.” She tensed and so did he. “But along the way, she picked me apart. I’m the one who is obsessed, devoted...scared. Come with me to see Liv?”
She wrenched from his hold and backed up. “I can’t.”
He prowled after her. “You handle the agoraphobia just fine while hanging from a tree in subspace.” She stumbled against the wall, and he closed in, blocking her on either side with his arms. “You don’t even know you’re outside when I’m fucking you beneath the shelter of my body.”
“Right.” She straightened her spine, hands clenched at her sides. “So you plan on whipping and fucking me during this meeting with Liv? ‘Cause I’m not sure that’ll help your fatherly image.”
“No. I’m just saying you can do this without the mental distractions. I won’t leave your side, Amber, and I would never let anything out there harm you in any way.”
She shoved against his chest with a shriek and slipped beneath his arm, shuffling backward. “My enemy isn’t out there, Van.” She thrust a finger at the garage doors. “It’s here.” She gripped her head. “Right here. I sit in this house day after day and tell myself I’m strong, that I’m better than this. But once I step outside, something takes over. Something more powerful than me invades my body and I can’t fight it. I try.” She sobbed. “I fucking try. But it brings me to my fucking knees. Every. Time.”
He reached her in two strides and lifted her into his arms. His chest was so fucking tight it felt like his heart was shrinking. He couldn’t fail her. He wouldn’t. He carried her out of the garage and through the house. “When you’re ready” —he climbed the stairs— “you’ll be there with me.”
With a heavy sigh, she hugged his neck. “So you won’t go see her? You won’t leave?”
God, she sounded so relieved, and he was about to steal that away. He set her on her feet beside the railing in the loft. “Liv is singing in a bar tonight. It’s neutral ground, a good place for me to feel her out.”
“What?” She gripped his hair and pulled his face to hers. “You can’t. She’ll turn you in, Van. You can’t go.”
He removed her hands from his head, walked to the nightstand, and grabbed a length of rope. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
She gaped at him. “No. Why?”
“On your knees.” With the rope taut between his fists, he returned to her with a clear sense of purpose in his strides. He promised her a punishment, and he expected her to remember. She must’ve read the intention in his eyes because she lowered to the floor.
“Arms up and together.”
She obeyed, but of course, she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “You can’t punish me for having thoughts, Van. They’re just thoughts!”
Insidious thoughts that fed an eating disorder. He wound the rope around her wrists—nineteen times because she’d told him once it was her
