Split(92)

She laughs and shakes her head. “I know. I haven’t cried since—” “The night in the river.”

Her smile falls, but she doesn’t seem embarrassed at my bringing up my seeing her naked. I suppose having sex means we’re beyond that now. “Yes, the night in the river. And before that it’d been years.”

I run my thumb along her cheek. “Why now?”

She shrugs and smiles sadly. “Because I’m pathetic, weak . . . and madly in love with you.”

Every muscle in my body turns to stone and I stare openly at her. There’s no way she just said that . . . to me. “W-what?”

She sighs heavily. “Yeah, I do. I love you, Lucas.”

I blink. “What?”

Her hand comes up to cup my cheek. “I. Love. You.”

My eyes slam closed and I push away the thoughts that tell me I’m unworthy, that all this is too much to be true and I must be dead. Somehow, somewhere I was deemed good enough for heaven and I’ve finally made it because outside of heaven this would never happen to someone like me.

I rest my forehead against hers and hold my fingertips to her lips, needing to feel her mouth move to convince myself it’s not a hallucination. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Lucas.”

I suck in a breath at the feel of her lips moving against my skin, the gust of her hot breath as she says the words I never thought I’d hear.

“Please . . .” Let this be real. My fingers tremble against her mouth. “Again.”

“I love you, so much. All of you.”

I rock my head from side to side against hers. “How is that possible?” I move inside her, this time more forceful, overwhelmed by her words.

By her acceptance.

My eyes burn, but I refuse to cry. Refuse to fall apart at the one time in my life when I’ve never felt more whole.

Her hands sift into my hair. “Kiss me.”

I nod, knowing now and this day forward I’d give her anything she asked for. I’d pull my beating heart from my own chest if she wanted it.

Tilting my head, I kiss her with the emotion of a man who never believed in love but who with this one woman has learned that even the damned have a chance at redemption. Even the vile can find acceptance.

There are hearts big enough to love those who are different than them, who are hard to understand.

And I, by some freak accident, found her.

I’ll die before I let her go.





THIRTY-TWO



SHYANN


Rain pummels the roof of the river house while Lucas and I lie naked and tangled in each other. The window is open and the smell of the forest is intensified as it blows over our heated bodies.

My cheek is pressed to Lucas’s chest, and I find peace in the gentle rhythm of his pulse. He’s relaxed, and if it weren’t for fingers tracing a pattern on my back, I’d think he was asleep. I pretend he’s creating one of his drawings, maybe an image of our future together or perhaps a recollection of our lovemaking.

“What’re you thinking about?” He accents his words with a squeeze to my hip.

“Trying to figure out what you’re drawing on my back.”

He chuckles and the sound washes over me, sinking me deeper into his embrace. “You’re so soft. Can’t stop touching you.” His fingertips continue to dance across my skin.

“So you’re not creating your next masterpiece?”

His hand flattens against my skin and he kisses the top of my head. “You’re the masterpiece, Shy.”

I close my eyes and absorb his words.

“But I can’t concentrate enough to draw right now.”

I turn at his serious tone and rest my chin on his pec. “What’s wrong?”

He blinks down at me. “You told me you love me.” Confusion darkens his gorgeous face.

I lie back down and throw my arm over his belly. “That’s because I do love you. And if it’s hard to believe, I’ll just keep telling you every few minutes until it sinks in.”

“That could take a while.” There’s no smile in his voice, no hint of levity, but the weight of seriousness drips off his tone.

“You’re gonna get sick of hearin’ it.”

“Never.” He kisses my head, and a deep silence builds between us, his fingers resuming movement on my back.

This is the most time I’ve ever had alone with Lucas. Usually whenever we get close, Gage bursts through and rips us apart. A tiny grin ticks my lips; a relationship with Lucas seemed so impossible in the beginning, but it doesn’t seem so impossible now.

“What’re you smiling about?”

“How do you know I’m smiling? You can’t even see my face.”

He chuckles and the vibration rumbles against my cheek. “I can feel it.”

I shrug. “I’m celebrating a small victory.” I press a kiss to his chest, then push up to my elbows. “We’ve uncovered a lot in a couple hours and . . . no Gage.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “This is usually the kind of thing he’d rather . . . enjoy . . . for himself. And you telling me you love me seems like—”

“He’d show up to protect you.”

He makes a noise of agreement.