I nod once, already moving away. “Sit with her.”
“Of course.”
I find Wynter in the shower, and I strip off to join her.
After, we’re lying in bed, skin to skin, her tucked against me exactly where I want her.Exactly where I need her.
“You look sad,” she whispers, her fingers brushing over my cheek.
“You make me happy,” I murmur.
She smiles softly. “You make me happy too.”
I study her face for a moment, committing every detail to memory. “It’s only been a few weeks,” I say quietly, “and I can’t get enough of you. It’s like . . . I can’t breathe when you’re not beside me. Everything outside of this,” I gesture vaguely, “is a fight. And all I want is to get back to you.”
Her expression shifts, concern creeping in. “Is everything okay?”
I nod, though it’s not entirely true. “Seeing that guy tonight . . .” I exhale slowly. “It makes me think about losing you.”
She huffs out a small laugh. “I don’t think I’ll be dropping dead any time soon.” Then she grins. “Unless you try that thing again, that you did the other night,” she says, her tone teasing.
I shake my head, a quiet laugh escaping me as I run my hand through her hair. But the humour fades quickly. “After what happened to Anika,” I say, my voice lower now, “I don’t take chances.”
She stills slightly. “What did happen to Anika?”
I hesitate. I don’t usually talk about this to anyone, but with her, it feels different, like I suddenly need to unburden all the shit that’s been weighing me down. “She got hurt because of me,” I admit. “Someone came looking for me. I wasn’t there, but she was.”
Wynter’s hand doesn’t leave my face. “What did they do?”
My jaw tightens. “They didn’t just hurt her,” I say carefully. “They made an example out of her.” Her fingers pause against my skin. “She was attacked,” I continue, keeping my tone controlled. “Badly. The doctors said her injuries were . . . extreme.”
I don’t give her every detail. I don’t need to. The look in her eyes tells me she understands enough.
“Why were they after you?” she asks softly.
“Because men like me make enemies,” I reply. “And those enemies don’t play fair.”
Her thumb brushes along my jaw. “Sofia said people are scared to come after you now.”
My mouth curves slightly. “Sofia talks too much.” I lean in, pressing a slow kiss to her lips. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of,” I murmur. “But I’d never hurt you. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure no one else does either.”
She studies me for a moment, like she’s trying to piece me together. “Why doesn’t Luke help out more?” she asks gently. “He must have loved her . . .”
“He wasn’t in a relationship with her. She was his mistress. Luke’s been in and out of her life since she got pregnant. He was never reliable, and he certainly wasn’t committed.” My jaw tightens. “He’s not a good man, Wynter. He got into her head, twisted things, made her question herself. It took me a long time to make her see it for what it was. Abuse.” I exhale sharply. “That’s why I don’t let him around here. Every time he shows up, he chips away at her until there’s nothing left.”
Wynter’s hand slips from my cheek. It’s only a small thing, but I notice it, just like I notice the way her brows suddenly furrow like she’s worrying.
“Oh,” she says quietly. “So, he hasn’t been around her for a long time?”
There’s something in her tone.
“No,” I reply, watching her closer now. “Not for a while. And if it were up to me, he’d be long gone.” My voice hardens. “I’d have killed him years ago.”
Her eyes flick up to mine.
“But Anika begged me not to. For Sebastian’s sake.” I pause. “I think part of her will always love him. No matter how much damage he’s done.”
Wynter swallows, her gaze drifting away for a second before she brings it back. “Didn’t she ever make him choose?” she asks. “To leave his wife . . . or at least tell her about Sebastian?”
