Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(122)

“Oh, sweetheart, no,” he admonished. “Why would you even think that?”

“She doesn’t feel good about herself.”

“And so it’s your fault she’s letting some guy hit her?”

My rationality said “no” but my guilty conscience said, “Yes, it is.”

His thumbs brushed my cheeks with soothing strokes. “How? How are you responsible for his actions? Or hers?”

“I bought the alcohol for her that night.” The memories ripped through me, fresh as if they were from yesterday, but oddly I couldn’t seem to stop myself from confiding in Adam. “I’d just turned twenty-one. Kate and her friends were underage. I thought they were staying in but they took it to a party. She’d called me three times begging me to come get her but I didn’t want to leave my dorm and drive all the way back up here. Don’t you see? If I would have just gone and gotten her she would have never been in that accident. She would never have gotten into a car and tried to drive. She was perfectly healthy and I ruined that.”

“Oh, babe. No. It’s not your fault.” He swallowed hard and pulled me to his chest. “It’s not your fault.”

“The scars… the seizures… She’s letting that bastard abuse her. I saw the marks on her neck. I know what strangulation looks like, Adam. I’ve seen it before.” My breath hitched. “Women… at the hospital… I’ve seen it before.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, but no woman deserves to be hit. I’ll make some calls and do a background check for priors. Whatever it takes, babe.” He ran his fingers through my hair and kissed my face, my forehead, soothing me. “Whatever it takes.”

“My mom had enough to worry about tonight. Kate, my cousins, my family.” I sniffed. “She didn’t need to be worrying about me, too.”

“Sweetheart, you can’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You can’t. That shit will break you. Trust me, I know. It broke me. Look at me.” He held my face. “I’m here. Right here. You’re not alone in this.”

His eyes were laced with sincere concern. His hands skated over the ropes binding my arms, inspecting. “Are you in pain? Is the rope hurting you?”

I shook my head and wiggled my arms. “It’s not that comfortable but no, it doesn’t hurt. You can untie me now.”

He brushed my hair away from my face. “You mean a lot to me, Erin.” His fingers slipped underneath the bindings at every point where they wrapped around my arms. “I want this. Us.”

I let his words soak in, trying to erase my dejected emotions with the admission he just laid out. “I want it, too. I do.” I also wanted to believe he was interested in something more than playing with me until he’d had his fill and I would be left a broken shell of a woman again. “I’ve never told… anyone… about Kate’s accident.” It was hard to speak; my confession was choking me. “No one knows I bought the alcohol for them.” She didn’t want me to go to jail again.

“We all have secrets.” Adam wiped my face with his fingertips until he covered my mouth with his. His fingers fanned into my hair, holding me fast, as though he was taking in my pain as his own. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. You know that, right?”

No matter how I painted it, it was and always would be my fault.

“I want to hear you say it out loud.”

“I can’t.”

“Say it,” he ordered, his fingers pressing into my scalp. “It’s not your fault.”

Oh, but it is. I provided the booze. I put her in peril. Our foreheads rested together, but I was still trapped in my own head, hearing my mom berating me for not being there for Kate when she needed me. Little did my parents know…

Adam gently sucked my top lip between his teeth, stopping my head from shaking. “Say it.”

I relinquished my hold, albeit reluctantly. My lie sputtered out in a sob with my deeply embedded regret. “It’s not my fault.” But it is and always will be.

His fingers tensed behind my ears. “That’s right. It’s not.” His grip gentled and he drew in a deep, steadying breath. “It’s not mine, it’s not yours. We didn’t pull that trigger. They did. It was their decision to do that, not ours. Not ours, baby. Understand?”

His breathing became slightly erratic, making me acutely aware that he was no longer talking about my sister. His burdens flowed from his lips right into mine, both of us needing a lifeline to keep from drowning in our sorrows. I nodded, forcing myself to agree with him, wanting for just a second to let go of the guilt.

My poor, wronged man.

His tongue slipped over mine, replacing the isolating loneliness with a flood of unbridled need. His hands were in my hair, on my neck, squeezing my thighs, my rear, washing my pain away with each touch.

He pushed my skirt up, bunching it around my waist, squeezing the fabric in his fists. I felt his desperate hunger right through the indents he was making on my skin. It mirrored my own.

I was so aroused. It was difficult to breathe. I wanted the use of my hands. “Untie me.”

Adam’s mouth skimmed my jaw. “No.”

It was a firm, yet playful answer. His tongue swirled with mine, cutting off my ability for rebuttal.