“Even if I didn’t have the money to buy you, you were mine from that night. Nothing would have stopped me from claiming you. Not another rich asshole. Not Oscar. Not Julian. Not a calvary of a hundred men. You were mine. And I was yours from the moment I saw you.”
It’s the first time I’ve mentioned ever belonging to her as much as she belongs to me. It was a slip of the tongue, but completely true. I’ve been hers for a lot longer than she’s been mine.
A tear drips, slowly at first, then speeds down her cheek as more moisture pushes it faster, and gravity pulls harder.
I reach out and wipe the tear from her eye. It’s such a normal act—something any couple would do for the other. But we aren’t a couple. She just admitted we will never be.
I was too late.
I don’t know if she meant Julian succeeded in raping her before I got there, or if she just meant too much has happened for us to move forward. Maybe she meant she could never forgive me for letting Julian lay a single finger on her. For buying her in the first place. For letting her think I would sell her.
I’ve sinned too many times for any truth I speak to heal us. Our wounds are too deep. Permanent scars have already formed.
“Your turn,” she says with a deep breath.
I pull my hand away from her cheek. And I feel loss. So much loss.
She grips the bedsheets, pulling them tightly to her chest as she waits for my question. I don’t know if I want to pull a truth or a sin from her. I want answers, especially after what happened with Julian, but I don’t know if I have the strength to hear her past with him. She also, more than anyone, deserves to commit a sin against me.
So I ask the question. The only question I need answered truthfully.
The question that holds my end.
I don’t understand how I know, even now, but her truth will change everything.
“How did Julian hurt you before?”
Her eyes drift up to mine, and she bites her lip. I can tell more than ever that she wants to tell me the truth. She wants to pour her soul to me.
And yet there is something stopping her. Something preventing her from screaming the truth.
“Truth or sin?” I ask. What’s it going to be?
“Sin,” she answers.
I suck in a breath, preparing myself for her sin.
She’s weak—she shouldn’t get out of bed. She might choose to postpone her sin. Or she is going to have to choose something simple she can do from bed.
She pats the side of the bed next to her. Apparently, she’s already decided on her sin. She knew before she answered what it was going to be.
I feel a lump in my throat. My heart is racing. My muscles are aching, trying to figure out what she is going to do.
I’m so close to her. I want to kiss her, taste her. I want to worship her body until she begins to forgive me. Until she no longer thinks it’s too late to give us a chance.
“What do you want? What’s your sin?” I ask, unable to wait, unable to contain myself any longer.
Siren moves hesitantly toward me. Her body inches closer and closer. I prepare myself for a coming slap, punch, or hit. I won’t stop her. I deserve any pain she wants to inflict my way.
I try to keep my eyes open. But my reflexes will stop her if I see it coming, so I sit on my hands and close my eyes and wait.
I breathe slowly in and out, waiting for the pain to hit me. I’m begging it to. Maybe I’ll feel better if I’m hurting even a fraction of the amount she is?
But what I feel is the opposite of pain.
Her lips brush over mine, ever so slowly, sparking something deep inside, bringing me back to life.
My eyes fly open at her touch. Our eyes lock as her lips hover over mine. I don’t move. This is her sin, not mine. But it takes all of my self-control not to devour her.
And then, everything changes. She grabs my neck, pulling my head to her in a forceful kiss I’ve been dying for since the moment I saw her in the water swimming toward me.
My hands fly up, gripping her head and deepening the kiss. My hungry tongue pushes into her mouth, tasting every drop of her. So sweet, sassy, and delicious.
She moans against my lips, kissing me again and again. With promises of what could be.
These kisses are nothing like I’ve ever felt before. These kisses are life itself. I hold her firmer, and she tugs hard on my hair, letting it fall down the way she likes.
I could be the man for her. Her beast in the bedroom, her protector during the day. I could give up everything else for her—my job, my friends, my home. I feel it the second our lips touch.
She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and nothing I knew existed.
When she nibbles on my bottom lip, I’m done. I’m hers.
Completely.
Wholly.
Entirely.
Hers.
And she knows it. She smiles back against my lips.
But then she grips my hands, and gently pushes them away from her face, so she can pull back.
I feel empty without her touching me.
“It’s too late,” she says sharply.
It’s then I realize her sin. Siren kissed me, showing me everything I could have. Everything missing from my life. Everything I could have had if I were a better man. Then she took it all away with three little words.
Fuck—this is my life now. I’ll forever feel empty without her. There is no going back to a life without her.
I can’t have her.
I was too late.
25
Siren
Why did I kiss him?
That kiss was painful.
Well, not the kiss part. The kiss part was great. It was magical, passionate, and everything I’ve been missing.
Cheesy, but it’s true.
And now…now, I’m ruined. That kiss ruined me worse than anything Julian could ever do.
We don’t speak after my sinful words. We both just collapse into the bed, so close but not touching, as is our life together. Close, but never together.
Not as friends.
Not as lovers.
And soon, not even as enemies.
I don’t think I can sleep, but soon the darkness pulls at me. I’m still physically exhausted, so even though I’m anxious, sleep still wins.
I hear a vibrating sound on the dresser.
Zeke jumps out of bed and grabs his phone.
“Yes?” he answers grumpily.
He listens for a minute while looking at me to see if I’m awake. He must spot the white of my eyes staring back at him because he doesn’t stop looking at me.
“Tonight?” he asks.
Fuck, no. He can’t go anywhere near Julian. It was just last night that he had to save me from him—that they fought.
But then I notice the rest of the room for the first time. The IV pole, the bags, the medications, the gauze. That’s a lot of IV bags if I was just out of it for a day. I’ve been unconscious for days, possibly weeks.
Which means it’s time for Zeke to transport the women. To sell them to the highest bidder. To confirm he is just as bad as Julian.
For a long time, I thought Zeke might be different. The way he treated me these last few days. Nursed me back to health. He’s never laid a hand on me, and it makes me believe he is a good guy. Or at least not a bad guy.
But if he sells those women, he’s just as evil as Julian. Just as wicked as every other man in my life.