I don’t know why I asked that question. Deep down, I know there are no guarantees in life. And no matter how badly we all want her to be okay, right now, we all have to live with the crippling uncertainty that maybe she won’t be. However, I desperately need my father’s reassurance.
He faces me, tears rimming his soft blue eyes. My pulse flutters at the base of my throat as the sinking feeling in my stomach returns. The same dreadful feeling I’ve had since he told me my mother was sick. “She is one of the strongest humans I know. Whatever happens, she’ll get through it. We’ll all get through it with her.” His throat bobs as he swallows. “Together.” Bringing a large hand to my shoulder, he gives me a reassuring squeeze. “Because in this family, no one fights alone.”
***
She’s quiet on the ride back to the cabin, fighting a battle with her emotions. I can’t imagine what she must be feeling now. Anger. Confusion. Betrayal. The hurt is written all over her face. Her instinct is to bury her feelings and shove them aside, but she’s putting them on full display for me, and I couldn’t be prouder of her, despite what she’s going through. Reid was still gathering up a team when we left and putting a plan in motion. In the meantime, he instructed us to go back to the cabin and wait for his call.
We pull into the driveway of the cabin, and she’s out of thecar before I can utter a single word, barreling inside and slamming the door behind her. She’s pacing the length of the living room when I walk in, bare feet slapping against the hardwood with each step, hands fisting in her hair in frustration, breaths coming in sharp and uneven.
“He lied to me,” she bellows. “My whole fucking life. He lied about who he was. About who I am.”
I don’t move, standing at the far end of the couch, watching her. I don’t interrupt. She needs to feel this. To process and work through it on her own.
“And the money,” she continues, voice cracking. “Stolen drug money. Blood money. And he’s not even—” A harsh and disbelieving laugh leaves her throat. “He’s not even my real father.”
She stops pacing.
“For the first time in my life, I don’t know who I’m supposed to be now,” she whispers brokenly. “I feel so stupid. Betrayed. Like my entire life has been a lie.”
I cross the room in three long strides, cradling her face. “None of this is on you.”
“I feel like I should have known. Like, there is something wrong with me for constantly seeking his approval and his love all these years.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Her breath stutters as the dam finally breaks, tears streaming down her blotchy cheeks.
“I’m so angry, Benson,” she whispers through gritted teeth. “And I don’t know where to put it, how to deal with it.”
I lean down, dropping my forehead to hers. “I do.”
His lips stake their claim in a brutal kiss.
Demanding.
Grounding.
A promise that whatever was stolen from me in the past, the present is mine by choice. I meet his kiss with the same intensity, all my pent-up emotions, the ones I’m struggling to convey, pouring into the space between us. My back meets the wall, one hand firm on my hip, while the other closes around the front of my throat, and the possessiveness of his touch settles me. My anger softens into need with each press of his fingers into my heated skin and the slide of his hot tongue against mine.
“Benson, please,” I beg, clutching the front of his shirt to pull him closer. He lifts me off my feet, carrying me down the hall to the bedroom, and places me on my feet at the foot of the bed.
My body ignites at the steel in his voice.
Yes, my mind screams.This is exactly what I need.
“Do you remember your safe word?” he asks, his deep, steady voice causing goosebumps to pebble across my heated flesh.
I nod, biting my lower lip.
“Say it,” he orders.
“Pink.”
He grins.
A color I once despised until I met him.
He undresses me. First, my top and bra, then my jeans and panties, leaving me completely bare before him. When he stands back up to his full height, his eyes are filled with dark hunger.
