They’re coming faster. I can’t stop them. They’re soaking down the front of my sweater. Trailing down my throat. Making my skin itch.
“And when I run?” I throw back at him. “Nick’s right. I’m a risk. I’ll hurt you and I’ll never forgive myself—”
His free hand closes around my jaw, gentle but unyielding. “Then we’ll find you. We’ll bring you back home. But you won’t run, baby. We’ll make you so happy. We’ll keep you safe. You will never want to run again.”
It sounds so good. So rational. He’s painting such a beautiful portrait of everything I have ever wanted that it almost hurts not to grab it with both hands.
“What if you’re wrong?” I bite my bottom lip like that might stop myself from telling them the truth. “What if you don’t want to find me? What if you realize you made a mistake? I don’t think I’m strong enough to lose you…”
I don’t see Nicolas move until I’m freed from Dom and scooped up into his arms.
“Enough,” he growls into the side of my neck.
His hold crushes me. Hoists me up until my legs are looped around his waist. He cradles me and moves in the direction of the sofa.
He sits with me in his lap. One big hand cups my back, holding me in place while I sniffle into his shoulder.
“No more,” he murmurs into the hot flesh of my neck, long fingers combing through my hair.
I think he means crying, but maybe, also, no more running. It’s hard to tell when he’s holding me so tight, I can’t breathe. When his heart is drumming as erratic as mine.
He forcibly nudges my face up so I have no choice but to meet the firm focus in his eyes.
“This isn’t your fault. None of it, do you understand?” His big hands lift and — with a gentleness I never would have expected — wipe my cheeks. “Everything you’ve been told is bullshit, Isla. You are not those things. You’re not broken or useless. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from that. It was my job and I failed you.”
I’m dreaming.
This has to be some drug-induced hallucination brought on by years of mold build-up in the walls.
“What do you mean?” I ask at last.
His gaze lifts over my shoulder to where Dom is standing a few feet away, arms folded, looking as confused as I feel.
“I’m talking about this morning…” he states in a tone that isn’t convincing. “Hearing the way they talked to you… I didn’t know, but I should have seen it. I should have paid better attention. I took everything I was told about you at face value and I let you down.”
I’m still baffled. I know I should be delighted that someone believes me, or concerned by the abrupt change of heart from a man who could barely look me in the eye without scowling.
“Are you dying?”
It’s a legitimate question, but Dom bursts out laughing and Nicolas jerks back like I grew another head. The calmness in his expression dissolves into his usual glower.
And I’m honestly happy to see it.
“I’m telling you that I won’t let anyone hurt you again.” He must realize he’s growling at me and softens his tone. “That, no matter what, I will keep you safe.”
Having never been on the receiving end of such kindness or acceptance, I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. So, I fall back on what’s normal when someone offers to protect you.
“Thank you.”
To my surprise, he gives a faint chuckle. Like my gratitude is somehow amusing.
“I don’t want your thanks, baby. I haven’t done anything to deserve it. You have every right to want nothing to do with me after everything you’ve gone through.”
What the hell is happening?
He can’t possibly know any of this. Not to the extent that he’d be swearing eternal protection. Mom definitely wouldn’t have led him to believe that she was ever the problem. But he’s acting like he suddenly has all the answers and that’s impossible.
Anxious, I cast a glance in Dom’s direction, but he’s staring down at his feet. With no choice, I face Nicolas again.
