Forsaken (The Secret Life of Amy Bensen #3)(78)

“Yes. Okay. But that really sucks, Chad.”

“I know, sweetheart. Believe me, I know, but it has to be this way.”

“Yes. Okay.” She squeezes her eyes shut a moment and then looks at me. “That day, at the car lot. Do you remember you told me your family died six years ago?”

“Yes. I remember.”

“That was when it hit me that my father was murdered, and the man I’d known as my godfather had done it. That’s why I went into the bathroom. I melted down. I tried not to, but it doubled me over.”

I pull her to me, holding her close. “I’m sorry. I was an ass to you that day.”

“Yeah. You were. A really big ass.” She inhales and lets it out. “Do you think . . . could my father be alive? Maybe they have him in a lab somewhere?”

I don’t know what to say to her. They killed my family. I know they killed her father. She shakes her head. “Never mind. I know he’s dead. Sheridan wouldn’t need me if he wasn’t.” She buries her face in her hands and murmurs, “I just don’t want him to be.”

I cup her face, forcing her gaze to mine, and I dare to say what I have not even allowed myself to think. “I know, Gia. I want my family to be alive, too. But we have each other, now. I know I pushed you away. I told you not to trust me. But it was only because I wanted you too much. And because I was, and am, falling in love with you.”

“I am too,” she whispers. “I’m falling—”

I kiss her, deep and slow, and when I finish, I murmur, “Don’t tell me you feel the same as I do. I don’t deserve that yet, but I swear to you, Gia, I will.” I try to kiss her again and she presses her fingers to my mouth.

“Don’t try to be what you aren’t. That never works for people. They wake up and realize they can’t do it, and they leave.”

They leave. It hits me then why she’d thrown my leaving Amy in my face earlier. She’s lost everyone in her life. Her mother and father, her unborn child and even the godparent she thought she’d had. And all I’ve done is tell her I’m leaving her, over and over and over again. “I’m not leaving.”

“Until you do.”

“Gia, I know you see how I left Amy. I know you heard how many times I said that we didn’t exist. I realize now that I’ve spent six years of my life aspiring to be a man worthy of the blame I felt I deserved for my parents’ deaths, filling the holes inside of me with everything wrong, not knowing everything right was out there. And I know what’s right is you.” I roll her to her back and she tangles fingers in my hair. “I can’t breathe when I think about losing you.”

Her fingers curl on my jaw. “Then don’t talk yourself into leaving.”

“I’m not going to take that fear from you with words. I’m just going to stay.” My lips quirk. “No matter how many times you call me an *, or how irritated I make you. We’ll fight and we’ll make up. And it’ll be good.”

“You could just not be an *,” she suggests.

“I’m still me, sweetheart—so maybe I should just practice apologizing.” I brush my lips over hers. “By doing what I’m going to do, and what I should have already done. Make love to you for all the right reasons, instead of f*cking you for the wrong ones.”

“Chad,” she whispers, and I swallow my name on her lips, kissing her passionately, intensely—licking into her mouth, tasting her, and then slowly undressing her, reveling in each new spot my tongue can travel. She moans, delicate, sweet moans that thicken my cock and soften my heart.

By the time I toss the last piece of her clothing away and settle between her legs, finding her clit, lapping at it, then sucking, she is already coming unglued. This is power. The only kind I need. I lift her legs over my shoulders, dip my fingers inside her, take her to the edge and back, and do it again. And finally, when I am hard and hot, and in need of her body wrapped snuggly around mine, I carry her to the bed, spreading her legs again and settling between them. I watch the pleasure ripple over her face when I bury myself inside her. Brushing my cheek against hers, I roughly promise, “I am definitely not going anywhere. And neither are you,” thrusting into her a moment later.

That’s when the wildness starts, the frenzied hot need that has my hands under her hips, lifting her to drive deeper, to take more. Now we are f*cking, and it’s the best damn f*cking of my life. Because she’s the best damned thing in my life. The woman who has pulled me back from the edge of hell, where I wasn’t burning alive, but raising hell of my own. Now, I’m putting it to rest.

But when I finally pull Gia into my arms and she falls asleep, I stare at the ceiling, with Jared on my mind. And I keep thinking about Gia disappearing at the coffee shop, and how I never once questioned her. Never once did I think she’d left and betrayed me. But I have always held back with Jared, telling myself it was about protecting him. He walked away from treasure hunting for honor. He was better than me. It doesn’t make sense. It just . . . doesn’t.

And yet, while I could reason away many things, no one else knew where I was when Meg found me. No one else. It’s then that I know we can’t just wait anymore for something to happen, digging through paperwork, waiting for answers. Hell can’t be put to rest until we shove Sheridan and Rollin Scott inside the hole.