Splashing some water on my face, I rinse out my mouth, wishing I could wash away the feel of Bull’s lips on mine. But I can’t. He’s imprinted on every part of me.
Sighing, I reach for the towel, needing to get the fuck out of here. But when the door bursts open, fleeing is no longer an option. I lunge for the only weapon within reach—a small silver nail file. Bull is across the room in three long strides, coming to a stop in the bathroom doorway as I shakily extend the nail file out in front of me.
He peers down at the weapon with a deep frown.
I can’t control the tremble that wracks my body, but I steady my hand. “Get o-out of here. I’ve called the po-police.”
My warning falls on deaf ears. He storms forward, and I instantly back up until my ass hits the wall. I expect him to disarm me, but he doesn’t. He stops inches away and slowly raises both hands in surrender. “Please, please let me explain.”
I’m caught completely off guard because his request holds only sincerity. I should shout out for help because nothing he can say will ever excuse what I saw. But my heart, the traitorous bitch, begs I listen to what he has to say.
He takes my silence as submission. “That man I…killed.” His pause has my lower lip quivering. “He deserved it. He, and three of his friends, changed my life when I was fifteen years old. They are the reason I am the way I am. Or maybe they triggered who I was always going to become.”
The nail file trembles in my hand.
“They took away the only person who really understood me. They killed someone who didn’t deserve to die,” he reveals, lowering his chin as his chest begins to rise and fall dangerously slow. “Fourteen years ago, they ambushed me and my brother. The asshole I killed; he was the muscle. He held me back as I watched his three friends beat, humiliate, and eventually, kill my seventeen-year-old brother by splitting his head open with a fucking rock.”
Tears stick to my lashes. I try to blink them away.
“I went to prison because I found one of them two years later and shot him dead. A perfect fucking bull’s-eye straight through his heart.”
A stunned gasp leaves me; the mystery behind his nickname has been revealed.
“I went to prison for twelve years for killing one of my brother’s murderers. But prison didn’t reform me. I didn’t repent,” he states, slowly lifting his chin to meet my wide eyes. “It just gave me time to plan my revenge. I envisioned all the ways I was going to make those who hurt my brother pay.
“Two down, two to go,” he utters, nodding once. “Before I ended his pathetic life tonight, he told me who the remaining two are. Now, I just have to find them and make sure they receive the same punishment as their other two friends. This is about revenge. It always has been.”
He yanks down the collar of his T-shirt, exposing the inked flesh over his heart, before reaching for my hand. When his hand locks over mine, a surge of fear and excitement swarms me. He draws the nail file to his chest and forces me to dig the point into his flesh.
I try to recoil, but he holds me tightly.
“You can do whatever you want to me, but all I ask is that you let me finish this. When I kill those responsible for hurting Damian, then I will have no reason left to live.”
“Bull, no!” I frantically attempt to pull away, but he continues to coerce my hand until, eventually, a trickle of blood seeps from the wound he forced me to create.
His gaze never leaves mine. “I deserve to die. Tonight, I robbed two kids of their father, and even though I was well aware of the fact, it didn’t change my mind. I have no heart, Tiger,” he says, revealing why he asked the question in my kitchen about Jordy growing up without a dad.
But his question contradicts his claim. If he didn’t have a heart…he wouldn’t care. But he does. He may not realize it, but I do. It’s why I didn’t call the police. It’s why I allow my tears to fall.
“I’m sorry for making you cry,” he says with regret.
But I shake my head, confusing him. “These tears aren’t for me…these tears are for you.”
His lips part, and his grip on me slackens, allowing me to release the nail file, which tumbles to the floor.
“I’m the one who’s sorry. I can’t even imagine what you went through. You were just a kid. You and…Damian”—he squeezes his eyes shut—“both were. I’m not excusing what you did…but I understand.”
God strike me down, but I do. There is no right or wrong in this situation. I don’t condone taking a life, but the circumstances aren’t black and white.
And before me, an amber-blue kiss flickers to life as he opens his eyes. “Understand?” he asks, shaking his head slowly.
With a hesitant touch, I place my hand on his cheek. “Yes. If anyone hurt someone I loved, I would want revenge too. And the way your brother suffered…oh, god, Bull, I’m so sorry you went through that. Who are the other men?”
He hisses, turning his cheek to sever our touch. But I won’t let him escape, not this time. Gripping his chin, I force him to look at me. “Tell me. The thing about secrets is that they’re not secrets if you tell someone. Let me be that someone.”
“Why?” he questions, the desperation heavy in that single word. “Why would you want to get messed up in my shit? After everything I just told—”
But I don’t let him finish. “It’s because of what you told me that I want to know. You’re not a cold-blooded murderer.”
“Then what am I?” he questions, begging me to shed light on this.
“You’re human,” I conclude, using his words back at him.
Bull sees himself as nothing but a monster. He’s not. He is acting on the one emotion that proves he is anything but a villain—love. His love for Damian has driven him to do some awful things. But he has happily sacrificed his life to ensure his brother’s death doesn’t go unpunished.
Do two wrongs make a right? Maybe this is the exception to the rule? I honestly don’t know.
“I hurt everything I touch. I hurt you,” he adds, recoiling from my grip angrily.
“Yes, you did, but you also made me feel good. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. From the first moment we met, you’ve protected me. You didn’t have to. But you did. If that doesn’t prove you’re a good person…then let me show you what I see.”
Bull stands rigid, his fists balled by his sides. Undeterred, I wrap my fingers around his wrist and draw his hand to my chest, placing it over my hammering heart. “Every time you’re near me, I can’t take in enough air fast enough. You leave me breathless with your brutality because you live life unapologetically.” His jaw hardens as he slowly unfurls his fist and lays his hand on my chest over my heart. “You’re here with a purpose. While most are stumbling through life, you know what you want. Yes, it’s not conventional, but it shows your loyalty, your strength to those you love.
“You tell me you’re dead inside, but how can you be? You’re doing all of this to ensure your brother is never forgotten. You have sacrificed your life to pay homage to his memory. Those men took something away from you.”
Interlacing our fingers, I lock eyes with him, realizing my feelings for him are deeper than I thought. “I could only wish for that sort of loyalty. That love.”