My lungs stuck together as my heartbeat kicked into a flurry.
Jethro breathed, “It’s become so bad, I can barely breathe. For years I’ve struggled—my whole fucking life.”
I tried to take my hand back. I couldn’t stomach feeling the irregular thump of his heart beneath my fingertips. Its rhythm was screwed up, confused...lost.
His face held such yearning, such turmoil. Staring at me that way gave me too much power. Too much authority over his soul.
But it also soothed me—proved that having control in my future was right here—in my grasp. I only had to be brave enough to take it.
Curling my fingers on his chest, as if I could carve his heart out and hold it in my hand, I stared into his light coloured eyes. “Tell me.”
“I’ll tell you what I can...but later.”
“No, you won’t. Tell me now.”
“What more do you want from me, Nila?” he suddenly snarled. “Don’t you see? Do you really need to hear it?”
His fear thickened the air.
Yes, I could see something was wrong. I could almost understand it.
But I needed him to admit it.
“You can’t hide. Not this time. Not with me.”
Silence webbed around us.
Then finally, his head bowed in defeat, but there was relief in his gaze. “I’ll tell you. All of it. What I am. What it means. I promise. I’ll tell you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jethro
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WHAT I AM. What it means.
WHAT I AM. What it means.
The promise echoed in my head.
Why had I promised such a thing?
Why did I think I could?
Because she needs to see the truth. She needed to know so she could forgive me.
I kissed her again—trying to stop her from seeing my fear at being open and true.
Holding her jaw, I pressed my lips harder against hers, signalling that I would keep my promise, but not right now.
Right now, I needed to be inside her.
Right now, I didn’t have the strength.
It was selfish of me to take more from her when she’d only just recovered, but something inside me howled for what she could give.
I needed it before I had the capacity to talk about what I was.
