Split(93)

“Well, I have a theory if you want to hear it.”

He grips me to him and rolls so that he’s on top of me. The weight of his big body presses into mine, and his erection lies against my thigh. I bite my lip and try to focus beyond my desire.

“Yeah, I want your theory.”

I suck in a breath and nod. “It’s simple, really.” I stare at him for a few silent seconds, nervous about how he’s going to take this. “Thing is . . . I love him too.”

His eyebrows pinch together and his mouth pulls into a tight line. “You love Gage.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s part of you.”

His eyes dart to the side. “The bad part.”

I pull his face back to mine and press a kiss to his lips. “I don’t believe that.”

“You said it yourself. He’s not been good to you, Shy.” He starts to push himself up and off the bed. I struggle to hold him close, but he’s too strong and I’m left alone on the bed, watching as he pulls on his boxers.

Feeling suddenly vulnerable, I grab the sleeping bag and cover my naked body. “He’s stubborn, and grumpy, and yeah, he’s rough around the edges but he’s also fiercely protective—”

“He hurt you.” His jaw clenches.

“He threatened me, but he hasn’t hurt me.”

“Yet.”

I push up and sit. “He loves you.”

A humorless laugh bursts from his lips. “He hurts people—”

“Lucas, please.” I reach out a hand, hoping he doesn’t reject it. “Calm down.”

He stares at it for a few seconds before moving to sit on the bed. I push up and wrap my arms around him, fitting my front to his back. “The only way things will work out between us is if I have both of you.”

A long exhale falls from his lips and he drops his chin to his chest. “I hate this for you.”

I run my lips along his shoulder blade, taking pleasure in the trail of goose bumps I leave behind. “I can handle Gage.”

His elbows to his knees, he leans his head into his hands, gripping his hair. “I wish that were true. But if I can’t control him, no one can. He’s already pissed off women in town—”

“Sam got herself—” My body jerks upright. “Oh no, I forgot about Sam.”

He turns to face me. “What about Sam?”

“Remember, we were talking and I got the call about Sam being—” Oh no . . . that was Gage. I purse my lips and bite the inside of my cheek. “She was beaten almost to death in her own home.”

“By who?”

“They don’t know.” My cheeks warm and I find it hard to hold his eyes. “I thought maybe it could’ve been Gage.” His body tenses and I scurry to explain. “But no, there’s no way, I mean, he’d never hurt Sam like this.” It could be the Shadow; I’m just shocked the story that destroyed my career would hit so close to home. “There are a string of serial assaults in Phoenix and a few in surrounding cities. So far it seems Sam’s assault matches, but we won’t know until they finish the investigation.”

“Serial assault . . .?”

“The guy follows an MO. Never any proof of forced entry, and he never rapes. The cops are calling it a hate crime.”

He’s staring openly at nothing and his voice comes out a tiny whisper. “Hate? Against who?”

“Women.”

He jumps from the bed as if he’d been electrocuted. “You need to leave.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m not safe for you. The feelings I have for you, if Gage . . . oh God.” He pulls on a pair of sweatpants, mumbling to himself. “I’d kill him if he hurt you.”

With the sleeping bag around my body, I jump out of bed. “Kill who?”

He sets cold gray eyes on me, and if it weren’t for the softness of his jaw, I’d think it was Gage. “Who do you think?”

“You can’t kill Gage, Lucas. He’s you.”

He doesn’t answer but turns and grabs a long-sleeved tee from the closet.

I cross to him and wrap myself around his waist from behind. “You can’t kill Gage.”

His muscles tense to solid rock. “What if he did it? What if Gage is the one who hurt Sam?”

“No, I don’t believe that.”

He peels my hands from around his waist and moves to the doorway. “Don’t be stupid, Shy.”

“He has every right to have trust issues with women, but that doesn’t mean he’d beat them almost to death.”

“You know that for sure?” His jaw ticks and he takes a step closer. “Sure enough you’d risk your life? Because every second we’re alone together we tempt him.”

My heart pounds in my chest and, craving his comfort, I reach for him.

“Please, stay back.” He’s panting, his fists clenched.

“Lucas, it’s okay—”

“I can’t trust myself around you . . .” He swallows hard. “You shouldn’t trust me either.” He dips to the floor to snag my sweater and tosses it to me. “Get dressed.” His stormy eyes meet mine. “You need to go.”