Lie (Betrothed 8)

Emotion moved into his eyes, like he was both hurt and pleased by what I said. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

I was broken and damaged all the way down to my core, and it would take a while for me to bounce back. But I knew I would overcome it, not allow it to defeat me—with time. “You’re the one who saved me. If you hadn’t come down there…” I couldn’t finish the sentence because my silence implied so much. “I don’t even know how to thank you for what you did.” I moved closer to him and rested my hand on his arm. “Thank you.” I looked up into his gaze and felt my eyes water as so many emotions hit me at once. I’d survived something so horrific that words couldn’t describe it. But this man came to my rescue.

“You don’t need to thank me.” He pulled his arm away like he didn’t want me to touch him.

“And thank you for the food, the door, staying here so I could get some sleep…”

“You can call me if you need anything. I’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

It was hard to believe, but this man had captured me and put me in a cage. It was hard to believe that he’d let me go and then we tried to resist our physical attraction to each other. And now he was in front of me, visibly moved by the pain I’d endured like he had a heart bigger than mine. “You’ll save those other girls…?” If he didn’t, I would have to ask Damien to do it, but I wasn’t sure if he would help. That wasn’t his arena.

“I’m a man of my word.” His blue eyes were more beautiful than they’d ever been, so clear, like words on a page. His jawline was covered in stubble, a deep shadow that matched the dark strands on his head. His shoulders were so broad and strong, and when his shirt was off earlier, I could see just how powerful he was.

“How long have you been going down there and collecting money?”

Shame moved into his eyes. “Awhile.”

He’d seen that scene many times, saw those naked girls in those iron cages, and he didn’t blink an eye until now. “Then why did you agree?” He could’ve vetoed my request. He could’ve told me it couldn’t be done.

He dropped his gaze for a few seconds before he took a deep breath and met my eyes again. “Because I feel differently about it now…” His eyes shifted slightly back and forth as they looked into mine, staring at me in a way he never had before. There was vulnerability, passion, and sympathy.

I didn’t know what to say to that. “Thank you.”

When there was nothing else to say, he prepared to leave. “You don’t need to be scared, not because of the door and the alarm system. Don’t be scared because no one is going to bother you again.”

“Because of you?” I whispered.

He nodded. “Always be aware of your surroundings. Always be careful. But something like that will never happen again. I promise. They know you’re off-limits.”

“Who’s they?”

He took a long time to answer. “The rest of them.”

So, there were more.

“Don’t let it change your spirit. Because you’re damn perfect the way you are.” He turned away and headed to the door.

I felt a pain in my chest the second he moved to depart. I felt like I was losing something special, and even though I could call him if I wanted to see him again, I still didn’t want him to leave. My opposition to our relationship hadn’t changed, and if anything, it increased because I wanted nothing to do with men in general right now. But I saw him differently. I saw him as the hero rather than the villain. I saw him as a man that any woman would be lucky to have. An emotional attachment had begun, and I knew it would always be there after what he’d done for me. So, I didn’t want him to walk away, didn’t want him to leave my side.

I grabbed his arm and gently pulled him back to me.

He turned his head to stare down at me, his expression guarded like he wanted to cover up every emotion he possessed. He prepared himself for the real world outside my door, prepared himself to be the Skull King once again.

I rose on my tiptoes and gripped his arms for balance as I leaned in and kissed him. I was probably undesirable with all these bruises. I wasn’t the beautiful woman I used to be. Now, I was a victim of abuse and assault. I wasn’t the strong and resilient woman that he remembered. I kissed him because I wanted to kiss him, to feel the strongest bond I’d ever felt with another person.