Say It's Forever (Redemption Hills #2)(36)

Shivers wracked her body, and her nails sank deeper into my shoulders. “Jud.”

“But I’m not sure that’s what you need right now,” I continued.

Peeling herself back, Salem met my eye. “You’re right, Jud. But the problem is, I don’t know what that is. What I need or what I want or if I can hope for it once I figure it out. I don’t even know if I’m staying or how long I’m going to be here.”

My guts revolted at that.

I forced down the riot of possession, the part of me that wanted to demand that she stay. I reached out and set my palm on her cheek.

“All I’m saying is I think I should be a part of whatever that is for however long I can be. I’m right here, darlin’. All of us need someone on our side. Someone to lean on when times get tough.”

Her brow quirked. “As friends?”

I bucked my hips just a bit. “Is that all you’re gonna let me be?”

There I went.

Pushing.

Crossing those lines that kept getting blurred.

But I wasn’t sure there was a thing either of us could do to stop this attraction.

A tiny whimper left those gorgeous lips, and this fierce girl dipped her eyes again like she didn’t know what to say. Finally, she looked back at me, a mystery in her gaze. “You make me feel something I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before, Jud, and honestly, that terrifies me. That you make me feel something I can’t have.”

Rage burned.

A boil in my blood.

I wanted to hunt down whoever had put this look on her face and show them what it was like to really be afraid.

Draw it out.

Make it hurt.

Do what I’d promised myself I’d never do again.

Maybe that was the most dangerous part of all.

“Seems you make me feel something I haven’t in a long time, either, darlin’, and that scares me, too.”

Light laughter left her, and she looked at me with this expression that cut me in two.

With hope and hopelessness.

With faith and despair.

“We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

My fingers threaded through the hair at the side of her head, thumb tracing the angle of her jaw. “Yeah, gorgeous. A beautiful fuckin’ mess.”

For a minute, we sat there smiling at each other like cheesy saps. Like we were meeting in some place that neither of us knew existed.

“I really should go,” she finally whispered.

“Okay, darlin’.”

She hesitated, then asked, “I can trust you, right?”

My chest squeezed tight.

How did I answer that when I didn’t trust myself?

Still, I rumbled, “Of course.”

“Then there’s something you should know about me, Jud. If we’re going to be friends.”

I kept brushing my fingers through her hair. “Yeah? What’s that, gorgeous?”

“I have a child.” Salem’s blue eyes deepened with sincerity. “She’s my world. My entire world.”

I didn’t mean to flinch, but fuck, I did.

A knife driven right into my soul.

I tried to hide it. The impact of what she’d admitted. Of what she was trying to trust me with. I was getting the sense she didn’t show that card often, and that was unsettling, too.

But she felt it. Felt it different than I meant it.

She took the gutting pain for rejection.

Rigid defiance took over her demeanor, and that hypnotic gaze grew sharp and hard, the wildcat showing its claws.

Her love for her kid stark and gutting.

And I was getting it then, the vehemence that lined her bones.

Respected the fuck out of it.

Still, every single thing I wanted to say got locked in my throat when she slipped off my lap.

Every confession.

Every reason.

The purpose that screamed and clawed and made me feel like I was coming out of my skin.

After I sat there like a mute for God knew how long, Salem shook her head in disappointment, snatched the helmet from the ground, put it on, then climbed on behind me.

She curled her arms around me, though they were rigid. Like a canyon had broken open between us and a sea had risen up through the middle of it to push us farther apart.

Heart in my throat, I pushed the button for the ignition and the heavy engine rumbled to life. I turned it around in the meadow and slowly rode back through the trees and onto the road.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like kids.

I fuckin’ loved kids.

My guts clenched. My spirit moaned.

That was the problem, wasn’t it?

Could feel the bitter venom fill my mouth as we rode, as I took the turns just as carefully as we’d come, but somehow the glittering rays streaking through the branches on the trees and onto the road felt different.

A light going dim.

I fought it.

The agony that wanted to lift.

To take hold.

Suck me under.

Where I’d drown in that darkness that would forever possess.

When I made the last turn into Salem’s neighborhood, I pinned a fucking smile on my face so I could give it to her when I dropped her off.

Let her know I wasn’t a total dick.

I pulled up in front of their house.

My guts were in turmoil, torn between wanting to turn around, take her into my arms, tell her it was awesome—that kids gave a whole new meaning for breathing—that I’d protect that too if she’d let me—all while wanting to run.