Buttons & Hate (Buttons 2)

“I’m disappointed that you’ve lost your fire. And I’m more disappointed that you let a piece of shit like him put it out. That’s not the woman I know. That’s not the woman I met. You’re a fighter—through and through.”

I held his gaze and felt something similar to joy radiate through my veins. He gave me a compliment—and those were seldom. I knew I let Jacob take me down. But I simply wasn’t strong enough to pull myself back up. “You’ll never understand how I feel. You’ll never understand that kind of betrayal.”

“I understand a lot more than you give me credit for.” He threatened me with his eyes, refusing to accept anything less than what he wanted.

“I loved this man. I lived with this man. The fact he sold me into a lifetime of slavery just to pay off a gambling debt...” I shook my head because I couldn’t finish. It was beyond despicable. It was hurtful just to think about it. It was because of Jacob that I killed two men. It was because of him that I was viciously raped by a madman. My insufferable existence happened entirely because of him. I couldn’t get over that in a week. I’d probably never get over it.

“Don’t think about it.” He kept his voice firm, unbreakable. “Don’t stress over something you can’t change. Don’t live in the past when you’re in the present. What happened to you was terrible, I’ll admit that. When I read it in your file, I was in a dangerous mood for at least a week. But you aren’t going to let it define you. You aren’t going to let it push you down. You’re going to get back up on your feet and push on. You’re stronger than this.”

He still didn’t get it. “I’m not just hopeless because of what he did. I’m hopeless because there’s nothing for me to go home to. I don’t have a family searching for me. I don’t have a best friend who’s worried sick over me. Jacob was the closest thing I had to a family. And he doesn’t care whether I live or die. Whether I’m here or in America, it doesn’t make a difference.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t have a home.”

***

I washed my face and got ready for bed. My bedroom used to be a safe haven, but now I hated being in there—at least when I slept. The only time I was at peace was when Crow had his arms wrapped around me.

He was my knight, my protector—even in sleep. But I couldn’t ask to sleep with him every night. I didn’t have a lot of buttons left, and I didn’t want to use them all within a week.

There was a light tap against my door, masculine knuckles rubbing against it.

“Come in.” I’d just brushed my hair and pulled it over one shoulder. I wore the t-shirt Crow left for me. It was ten sizes too big and reached my knees, but it was comfortable. In a way, it felt like he was wrapped around me at all times.

He walked inside wearing his gray sweatpants without a shirt. His body was solid and defined, his muscles protruding against the hard lines that held his body tightly against his skeletal frame.

He watched the fire burn in the hearth before he sat beside me on the bed. His long legs widened as he sat, his knees bent slightly up because of his height.

My feet didn’t touch the floor.

He rested his arms on his knees. “Do you want me to sleep with you?”

I eyed the buttons in the jar. Six sat at the bottom, all different and unique. It was a savings account, in my eyes. I had to spend it wisely. I may have a nightmare or worse that I needed them for. “No, it’s okay.”

He turned his head slightly my way, watching my expression. “I wish there was something I could do.” His voice trailed off, showing his pain for the first time. It was never clear whether he cared for me or not. Sometimes, it seemed like he did when he protected me. But then he’d snap and treat me like a dog the very next day. He was an enigma.

“There’s nothing you can do, Crow.”

“I just want you to know that I do understand that kind of betrayal. I do understand that kind of pain. And I do understand what it’s like not to have a home.” He stared at his joined hands. The short strands of his brown hair were messy from running his fingers through the slightly curled ends. “You aren’t alone. You never are.”

I listened to everything he said, hanging on to every word. “What happened?” He never told me anything personal before. All I knew was he had a brother. And I knew they had a strained relationship.