The Wolf (Black Dagger Brotherhood - Prison Camp 2)

“I wish . . .” she whispered.

“What? What do you want.”

Rio eased back a little, and unfortunately, took her palm with her. As her eyes shifted away from him, he knew she was somewhere else in her mind—and he missed the contact of her flesh against his.

“I hate the idea of you hurting.” She shook her head. “I hate anyone in pain, actually. I’m a wuss.”

“You’ve got a good heart. Like that’s a bad thing?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Who left you,” she blurted. “Who was the person who made you feel like you were so unworthy.”

What did he say. What could he say? “It was a whole group of people. My family, actually.”

Her head tilted to one side. “What did they do to you?”

“They put me in here.” When she looked confused, he wanted to kick his own ass for forgetting all she didn’t know, couldn’t know. “I mean, I’m in this line of work because of them. It’s a long fucking story. Just know . . . I wouldn’t choose to be doing what I am if there were any other way for me. I would not be in this life except for everything that went down years ago.”

As she opened her mouth, he put his palm up. “And there’s no disrespect intended toward you. I don’t judge you or anybody else for the way they make their living. I am in no position to be critical.”

Her smile was tight. “Funny. You wouldn’t choose this life, and I . . . wouldn’t either in so many ways.”

“Tell me.”

“It wouldn’t make any sense.” Rio fell back on the bed and locked her eyes on the ceiling. Then her words came out in a rush. “My brother, Luis, died of an overdose at the age of sixteen. I was the one who found him. I was two years older.”

Lucan shook his head. “I am so sorry. Rio. That’s terrible—”

“But the destruction didn’t stop there. My mother started drinking after he passed. Hard. She collapsed from liver failure two years ago, got on dialysis, and died six months later. Not that we were close or anything. On my father’s end, he left town pretty soon after my brother’s funeral. Just took off. I have no idea where he is, and after all these years, it’s going to stay that way even if I find him, you know what I mean?”

“Wait . . . he just deserted his mate—wife, I mean? And you?”

“There was debt he couldn’t cover, he said. Money that was owed to people who were dangerous. Either he left or they were going to come and hurt me and Mom.” She glanced over with a hard expression. “But no one ever came looking for him, so maybe it was just a lie—something he told my mother to make himself feel better. I don’t know.”

After a moment, she covered her face with her hands, and he touched her knee. “So you have no bloodline, either.”

“It’s true, I’m alone. But it’s okay.”

“You’re not alone anymore.”

Lowering her arms, she stared across at him. “You don’t want me, Luke. You really don’t.”

He had to laugh at that. “The hell I don’t.”

Rio blushed in a way that made him fall for her even harder. “I don’t mean like that.”

“I’m not your brother, Rio. You don’t have to take care of me and you do not have to save me.”

“This isn’t about him.”

“I think it is. I think you’re trying to save all kinds of people, in all kinds of ways, because you couldn’t do it for him.” He shook his head again. “I just don’t know why you didn’t get out of this life altogether. I don’t get the logic. If drugs killed your brother, why are you doing this?”

Her eyes went back to the ceiling. “Like I said, it’s complicated.”

All Lucan could do was nod. He sensed that there were things she was holding back, but considering the encyclopedia’s worth of shit he was keeping to himself? He wasn’t going to fault her for not filling him in on everything.

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” she said as she sat back up.

“I’m not judging you, Rio. Just know that. All the details don’t matter to me, and neither do your choices. They’re your own to make peace with, and God knows that life can put us in situations where there are nothing but rocks and hard places.”

She frowned and seemed to inspect her fingernails, as if she had a manicure even though she didn’t.

“You said that your family is making you do this,” she murmured. “Are you involved in the mob? I mean, given this operation’s size, I’m figuring it can’t be an isolated thing, you know? So many people, so many moving parts.”

“Call it whatever you will,” he hedged. If it was a truth that made sense to her as a human? She might as well believe it.