Convict Me (Broken Heroes 1)

“I wasn’t,” I lie, knowing I’m not good at it.

A humorless laugh escapes his lips. “You’re a shit liar, Elyse.”

I can tell he’s hurt by my response, and I’m not sure how to deal with it. “I didn’t—I mean…I don’t think you’d do that, but I don’t know you, and I don’t…” I stumble over my words, unsure of how to make this all right. It started with a forced kiss, and now, I’m here in his bed with him.

“If I wanted to fuck someone who was unconscious, I could’ve picked any of the chicks at that party last night. I brought you here because I wanted to protect you—I had to protect you. I didn’t intend on touching you, Elyse…and I wouldn’t have even if you had begged me to,” he grits out.

He’s battling with his own emotions.

His fists are clenched at his sides, his face contorted in anger, his lips almost in a snarl.

Anger terrifies me. It gives me anxiety, but a small part of me knows Hero would never hurt me.

Hesitantly, I lift my hand and rest it against his thigh to reassure him I’m not afraid of him. The air sizzles between us as his eyes move from my hand up to my face. When he lifts his hand, I flinch.

The anger in his eyes intensifies when he sees my reaction. “I’m not a good man—not at all. I’ve done things. Seen things. I’ve killed people.”

The air in my lungs stills, blood pounds in my ears. The need to run is so strong, but I remain kneeling beside him, my body trembling.

“But I will never, ever fucking hurt you, Elyse. Never.”

The conviction in his voice makes me believe him.

God, there has to be something wrong with me for believing him, a man I don’t even know, but I do. “I know.”

The smile Hero gives me is grim. “If you knew, you wouldn’t be trembling or have that look in your eyes that says you’re ready to bolt out the door.”

“This is just all new to me,” I sigh. “This is my first experience out in the real world. The last eighteen years of my life I’ve been under my parents’ thumb, living the life they wanted me to live, cooking, cleaning, never asking questions, and only speaking when spoken to.”

Hero’s gaze goes wide, and he runs a hand through his hair as if it’s a nervous tick.

His dark locks look so soft, I want to reach out and run my own fingers through them.

“What do you mean this is your first experience in the real world? Were you in like a fucking cult or something?”

I think about his response for a second. A cult? I had never heard the word before.

“I don’t know what a cult is, but I can tell you things weren’t fun, and they were never easy.” I cringe, thinking of all the times I got the belt for something one of my siblings had done. Blame was placed on everyone. Yes, we all got food and a bath, but we were never really loved, not like most parents loved their kids, and we were never given a choice. Never.

“That explains a lot…” Hero sighs.

I wrinkle my nose at his response. “What do you mean that explains a lot? Do I have a sign on my forehead or something?” I smile, feeling the tension seep out of the air.

Hero smirks, pushing from the bed.

I stare at his ass as he walks away, my insides turning to mush as I watch his muscles move, my mind thinking of all the different ways I could use my mouth on him. My thoughts shift when he walks out of the room.

As soon as he’s out of sight, I scurry from the bed, find my pants on the floor, and pull them on. I gaze down at the shirt I’m wearing. I suppose I’ll keep it and give it back to him later since I have nothing else to wear.

“What did you mean?” I ask once more as I run into the kitchen.

Hero shrugs, pulling out a carton of orange juice as he leans against the counter. “It doesn’t really mean anything. You just have this innocence about you. You’re sweet and quiet, and it fits your personality.”

I feel slightly insulted at his words. “Well, excuse me for fitting my personality. I couldn’t exactly tell you were a murderer from your personality.”

Hero raises a thick brow. “It’s not like I wanted to be one. I wasn’t born a killer, Elyse.”

I nibble on my bottom lip, feeling guilty for saying something so harsh. “What happened?” I ask, afraid to know, but curious enough to ask.

“I’m not sure you’re ready to hear this,” he states, like he actually has a choice whether he tells me or not.

“All my life, I’ve been told no. All my life, people have hidden things from me. Don’t do that to me, Hero. Don’t hide something that made you who you are today.”