Sweetest Taboo (SIN 3)

Well, if she knew that, it would break her. She could never un-know it. And even if we never learn for certain who the kidnapper really was, the possibility it might be Colin would haunt her forever.

So I can't tell her. I can't do that to her. Not until I'm certain. Not and live with myself.

And that's when it hits me--that's when I finally understand what Dallas did. And, more importantly, why.

"Sweetie?" my mom presses. "Are you okay?"

I realize that I have pulled the covers up to my chin. "I'm fine," I lie. "I'm just so very tired."

Even as I speak, I realize it's true. Exhaustion is carrying me away like a riptide, threatening to pull me down into the black.

"Tell him," I whisper before I succumb. "Tell him for me."

"Tell him?" my mother asks. "Tell him what?"

But the weight of sleep is too much, and I can't speak the words that ring through my head. I love him, Mommy. Tell Dallas that I love him.

It was two-fifteen in the morning, and Dallas couldn't sleep. He poured another glass of bourbon, knowing damn well it would do nothing, and tossed it back.

The liquor burned his throat and clouded his head, but that's what he wanted. Punishment and forgetfulness. To just fucking erase all of it.

Not possible though, and so he turned to alcohol to take the edge off. And right then, there were a lot of goddamn edges.

Fuck.

Liam had rightfully pulled him away from Colin, then Jane had rightfully sent him away from her. He didn't have a place with the man he now despised, and he didn't have a place with the woman he loved.

He was alone and he was drunk and he couldn't sleep and the whole situation was just too goddamned fucked up for him to wrap his head around.

A soft tap at the door startled him, and he cringed. Adele.

Goddammit, he'd told her he didn't want to see her when she'd called earlier to tell him she'd visited Jane. "She's doing well, but I worry about you two. Are you sure you're prepared for this? Living in the spotlight?"

"I've always been in the spotlight," he'd countered.

"Not like this."

He'd almost tossed back a sarcastic comment--something about how his sex life had always been front and center. But she was right. This was different. With Jane, he wasn't in the spotlight because he was a player, but because of who he was playing with.

"And it's not just the fact that you're sleeping with your sister," Adele had continued. "Eventually they'll find out what happened between you two. Innocent children trapped in a horrible situation, and they'll make it seem dirty."

"It won't come out."

"I hope you're right," she'd said. "But secrets have a way of being discovered."

She'd told him she was on her way over to keep him company, but he'd shut that down quickly. But Adele was Adele, and apparently she'd decided to come anyway, probably bribing the doorman to let her into the elevator.

"Dammit, Adele," he said as his hand closed over the knob. "I told you I didn't want you to--Jane."

She was wearing hospital scrubs, and her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. The bruise on her cheek had turned a sick shade of yellow, and the dark circles under her eyes were large enough to get lost in.

She looked exhausted, shattered.

She looked beautiful.

He wanted to pull her into his arms, but he forced himself to stay still, not sure where this moment was leading, but praying that it was leading her back to him.

Right then, her hands were deep in her pockets, and she lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. "I don't have a key. For that matter, I don't have a purse."