“No,” he said quickly. “No, that was a mistake. The way I told you was shitty. I just…I’m not sure you should be with someone like me.”
“Let me decide that for myself? I want to know what happened, Flynn. I know that you’re a good man.” I pressed my hand to his chest. “I’ve seen how big your heart is. Iknowyou’re not evil.”
His exhale was shaky. “Okay. Let’s go inside. I’ll tell you everything. You should know before…”
“Before?” I asked hopefully when he trailed off.
“Before you decide whether we should stay friends.”
He stepped past me and inserted the key into the lock. I followed him inside.
We stood awkwardly just inside the door.
“Before you tell me anything, I’d like you to do something for me. But I’m going to ask this time.”
“What is it?”
“Kiss me?”
He hesitated, eyes conflicted, then dipped down to skim his lips over mine in the sweetest kiss ever. I grabbed the plackets of his coat, holding on, as he wrapped a steely arm around my waist and lifted me a few inches from the ground.
My head swam, even as my chest glowed like a sunrise.
Flynn set me back on my feet, gently ending the kiss. It wasn’t a sexy kiss—aside from Flynn’s amazing strength always being a turn-on. It was a declaration of trust.
From both of us.
Flynn cleared his throat. “Um, let’s sit down for this next part.”
Flynn took my hand and led me to the couch, where we sat close enough our knees touched. He kept hold of my hand, squeezing almost too hard.
“You can still change your mind after this,” he said. “I won’t blame you.”
“Just tell me,” I said, tense now.
I believed in Flynn. I wasn’t going to run out of here no matter what he said. If he did something truly horrible, he was remorseful. He wanted to do better. That much was clear.
But the suspense was killing me.
I gave a little laugh at the turn of my thoughts. Jesus. That phrase,killing me, took on new significance when sitting next to a man who really had killed someone.
Flynn looked concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Inappropriate reaction. Sorry. Just nerves.” I took a breath. “Please tell me. Before I combust from the tension.”
“I killed my stepdad,” he blurted. “He was hurting my brother. He was abusive. After my mother left, I guess it gotworse because she wasn’t there as a target anymore. I’d moved out too, and Aiden was alone with all that anger and violence, and he called me one night, frantic about his dad being in a rage. I came over, and when I got there…”
My hand tightened on his. “How bad was it?”
“Aiden was on the floor. He was curled into a ball, hands over his head, not even crying out anymore as my father stomped on him like he was nothing but a…but a bug to squash. I charged him, furious. He took a swing at me. I hit him, and he went down like a sack of potatoes.”
“That sounds justified. What happened next?”
“Nothing.”
I blinked. “But…you killed him, you said?”
“One punch was all it took. I guess I put all my strength into it. I wasn’t much of a fighter. My size usually kept anyone from fucking with me. I didn’t know—” His voice broke. He took a breath. “I checked on Aiden. He was bruised and swollen. His ribs were broken, and his lip split. I wanted tokillthat bastard. Only, when I turned to snarl at him angrily, I saw that he still wasn’t moving. I called an ambulance when he wouldn’t wake. Right away, Bailey. I didn’t mean to do it. I thought he’d have a concussion, that’s all. But he never woke up. He died in his hospital bed a few days later. And I was charged with second-degree murder.”
