Chased (Savage Men 3)

Rage travels through my veins.

How could I do this?

Why?

Why did I let my lust overtake my conscience? My judgment?

Her mere presence in my home has made me do the unthinkable, and now I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my remaining life.

Grinding my teeth, I hold her tight and whisper, “Do you understand now?”

She nods.

“I’m a brute. You shouldn’t have tried to seduce me,” I say.

“It’s what you wanted,” she says, her voice hoarse.

“No, it’s what my body wanted, but it’s not what I want for you.”

“What do you want for me?” Her face lifts, almost as if she’s trying to look at me.

“I …” I sigh. I don’t even know.

How could I ever tell her what my plan was when I first took her out of that compound?

I can’t because it’s cruel, and I knew all that going in. I did it because it was the only way to find out who I really was. But I never expected it to turn out the way it did.

And now I have this girl under my wing who is so hell-bent on seeking freedom that she’d sacrifice her body.

She gave herself to me … just so I’d be more lenient.

Just so I’d be less of a monster.

Too bad monsters can never be anything else but that.

“Why can’t you tell me? What’s stopping you?” she asks suddenly.

I grab her hand. “Because I want you to be safe.”

“Am I?” she asks.

“Yes,” I reply, planting a kiss on her hand. “I won’t ever try to hurt you again. I promise.”

“Then why did you? In that canyon, why did you chase me?”

Her words are like a knife to my heart.

I know what I’ve done.

I know why she needs answers, but I can’t give them to her.

It’d shatter her world.

And as much as it hurts to admit, I don’t want her to think of me in that light. I want her to see me as a good person. A human being, just like her. I want her to see me as her rescuer. And I wish I could erase the memories of the canyon from her mind.

“Please don’t ever think about that moment again,” I ask.

“I can’t forget,” she says.

“It would be best if you did,” I say. “I want us to turn a new page. To start over.”

“How? I can’t forget what you tried to do. What you still do.” She grabs the chain and holds it up to my face, showing me my own depravity.

I push down her hand. “We both know what I like. I won’t deny that.” I grab her chin. “And you knew, didn’t you? And you still chose to seduce me, knowing what it entailed?”

She nods softly.

“This isn’t just me,” I say. “You wanted this too. Tell me I’m lying. Tell me it’s not the truth.”

Her lips part, but no sound comes out other than a guttural groan. I know she’s struggling. I was too. It’s hard to face the reality that you might not be who you think you are. To have your vision of your own self shattered in mere seconds.

Because that’s exactly what happened to me in that canyon, the moment I tried to thrust that knife into her.

I couldn’t do it.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t kill her.

It was an unchangeable moment in time. Something that struck me to my core and moved something inside me. Something I didn’t even know I had.

Humanity.

I’m not just a killer.

I’m a killer with a conscience who thought he’d lost all sense of justice.

She … she was supposed to be the proof of that. The proof of my inability to distinguish right from wrong. If I killed her, I’d prove to myself I was just as evil as the men whose lives I took, and that I deserved nothing less than them.

But she … she proved me wrong.

And to this day, I still don’t know what to do with that truth.

How am I supposed to live now that I know there is a line I won’t cross.

I won’t kill an innocent human being. I can’t.

But now she’s here, still living, inside my home … and I cannot let her go.

No, I refuse to.

Which makes me a sinner.

With her, I’ve sinned … so fucking badly.

And it felt so fucking good.

Finally, I was able to release all that pent-up rage and desire and take it out on her. But at what cost?

Even though she freely offered herself to me, there is still that line. And I crossed it … multiple times.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“For what?” she asks.

“Everything you have to endure at my hand,” I say. I let her go to get up from the bed, gathering my clothes to dress.

I can’t bear to turn around and look at her. Not when those eyes are the sole reason I’m unable to say no to myself.