Fractured Freedom(90)

“Sure.” He shrugged as he stared out at it. “Or maybe he stole it from someone or made them sign it over. Never really looked into it.”

“Have you ever looked into him or wanted to get to know more about him?”

“Not anymore. I got his name, and that’s about all I need from him. The rest is dead and gone. No point in dwelling on what can’t be.”

I nodded. His words held more meaning than he probably realized. “You’ve come to terms with that. Can you come to terms with what can’t be between us?”

“Lilah.” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “I almost lost you, Little Lamb. I held your hand, and the fire between us was so damn small—you know what that feels like? To have someone you love almost dead in your grasp, no way to bring them back?”

I pictured him on a battlefield because his eyes were far away as he said the words. I knew there were things he’d never tell me, war stories, mob stories, heart-wrenching ones. “I’m sorry I put you through that, especially if you’ve had to go through it before.”

He slammed his hand on the wheel. “Shit, I put you through it and myself. Your brother is right. I should never have dragged either of you into this.”

I shrugged and stared out at the sunset over the hills. “You wouldn’t have been able to make me leave.”

“Beautiful, smart, and stubborn,” he grumbled as we turned toward the big red barn. “You remind me of one of my mom’s horses, even though you’ll always be my little lamb.”

We pulled into his driveway and followed it around to the back of the house, out about another acre. The land was lush with green grass and rolling hills. A couple of horses gathered near a hay bale, and the gravel crunched under the tires, making a few cows moo.

He turned toward the big red barn we used to go to when an animal was in distress.

“Is she sick? The horse?” I asked.

“Sort of.”

Dante turned off the ignition, and we sat there for a minute before leaving the car. He breathed in deep, and his hand was on his abs for about two seconds before he dragged his gaze up to mine. Pain and hunger and determination swam in his eyes. “I’m going to show you Autumn in that stable, and we’re going to work out what is between us in there too.”

“I don’t think we can have anything between us. Not after what we’ve been through. Not after seeing you let another woman kiss you, and not after how my heart felt about it.” It was anger and pain and regret all mixed in my tone.

“Lamb, don’t even try to do that today. I’m not in the mood.” He opened his door and slammed it. I watched him stare up at the sky, pull on his neck, and swear once or twice before he rounded the hood of the car and came to open my door.

“Do you need me to carry you?” His green eyes trailed up and down my body and then stalled at my head, like he was trying to figure out if the brain trauma had healed.

“Carry me? What for?” I tried to push past him and get out of the car myself, but his hands were at my waist immediately, then around my back to aid me in walking like I was a porcelain doll. “Dante, I’ve been resting for a week. It was a minor brain trauma.”

“It wasn’t minor. You were in a coma.”

“From the pressure against my skull, and it’s completely subsided. It’s not … I’m fine.” I chuckled at how ridiculous he was being.

He took a step and pivoted in front of me, never letting go of my body. My chest was to his, my stomach against his abs, and other things touching other things. Of course my body reacted immediately, but what I didn’t expect was for the look of anguish in his eyes to affect me most.

His hand trailed up my back to my neck where he wove his fingers through my hair. His forehead fell to mine.

“One.” He breathed in, and my body immediately relaxed into him. “Two.” He sighed, and I closed my eyes.

He counted the rest of the way to seven. And then his eyes opened with a sparkle of unshed tears beneath a furrowed brow as his thumb rubbed a sensitive spot just below my jaw. “I almost lost you. And it’s my fault for letting you run around on that island in the first place. It was reckless, and I’ll have to live with that the rest of my life.”

I pulled back from him, stepped out of his reach even though my body longed to stay in his arms, and shook my head. “Not true. I made the decision to stay there myself.”

His lips thinned into a disapproving line before he slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks and began walking on the dirt path toward the barn. It was a sight to see, a man so beautiful in business attire, dirtying his loafers to walk to a stable. “You can say that, Lilah, but I should have forced you to come home rather than letting you run wild over there.”

“Wild?” I trotted up to him to poke him in the arm. “I had a job. I was a responsible adult. And you know I didn’t go there to get wild.”

He hummed. “Can you admit why you went?” Dante peered over at me before he opened the barn door. It was one of two large wooden doors, the handles black metal with a large drop bar latch across them. He paused, like he was waiting for me to admit and accept everything in my life.

Maybe I needed to. Maybe we both needed to hear I was healing.

But I wasn't healed yet. “I went there to be free of myself.”