Burned Deep (Burned 1)

I resisted the overwhelming urge to just walk into his embrace and let him swallow me up with his body and heat. Not say a word, just let him consume me.

Finding some inner strength, I said, “You sent Kyle to check on me.”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t tell him exactly what had happened.”

“He needed to hear it from you.”

“Why?”

He gave me a come on, Ari, sort of look. “He’d believe me? If I’d warned him what he’d find—about your injuries—do you think for one second he’d trust that I didn’t physically do that to you? He’d latch onto any possibility to make me a demon when it comes to you.”

“It did take some convincing that you weren’t responsible.”

“Jesus.” He shoved a hand through his hair and started to pace, looking painfully tormented. “This has eaten at me, Ari. Sent me into a fit of rage I never knew could exist. I admit I’m at fault and—”

“Wait,” I interjected. Everything inside me seized up, but I propelled myself forward. “I don’t blame you for what happened. Vale plotted it out perfectly. I’ve never blamed you for how I got trapped in it all. Even I played a part, Dane. I’d just accepted that you were out front in your car, waiting for me. Because I wanted you to be waiting there for me.”

Really, it’d all been such a fucked-up situation.

I said, “What I can’t deal with, accept, is you killing someone. Even for me. For the Lux. It can’t happen. It just can’t.”

“He’s not dead.”

“I know.” Throwing my hands in the air, I demanded, “Don’t miss my point!”

Tears stung my eyes. The sickness I’d felt that night threatened to return full force. I could still smell the scent of blood, because it had been everywhere. And it’d traumatized me enough to linger in my memory.

Dane gently gripped my biceps and stared deep into my eyes. “I’m not looking to be absolved, Ari. I lost control. Not because of the Lux. I can work that out, pay them all off, if I have to. Not easily, but … It’s different. The hotel used to mean everything to me. Then I met you. I fell in love. And whatever I might have to rebuild, I never wanted it to be a relationship with you. I can figure out other funding sources. There is no other you. Not for me. Not ever.”

I saw the agony, the misery, the desperation in his beautiful emerald eyes, and his pain tore at me.

“Dane.”

“I should have just brought them all back in. No one would have hurt you.”

“No,” I insisted. “You can’t just bring them back in, Dane. They wanted to exploit your efforts, extort profits from you. And in the long run, you’d still be connected to the members you disagree with and want to be disassociated from. How could you ever live with yourself if you just … caved?”

I suddenly remembered that moment at the bar when he’d slammed snake-tat guy’s shoulder to the table and Ethan had grumbled at him with both admiration and shock.

Looking beyond everything I found confusing and scary, I realized I felt as Ethan had.

“It can’t happen again,” I said with conviction. “What you did to Vale. But you can’t hand over the Lux, either. And … even though you terrified me, I respected that you saved me, that you fought for what you’ve dedicated yourself to, for defending what belongs to you and what you love.”

His hard features softened.

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nbsp; I repeated, “It can’t happen again. You have to find another way to fight them, if they’re still a threat to the Lux.”

Dane released me. As he walked away, he quietly said, “I already have.”

“What?” I followed him into the great room. He poured two brandies and handed one over.

“Vale won’t be a problem going forward. You don’t screw something up that badly and get a second chance to rectify the situation. Not with these people.” His shoulders still bunched, so I knew we weren’t out of the woods yet.

“Then, what? How will you save the Lux?”