The Thief (Black Dagger Brotherhood #16)(79)

Her brows lifted. “I never saw you do drugs.”

“Why would I ever have snorted a line in front of you? I wanted you—I still want you—to find me suitable as a mate. That is not the kind of behavior that creates such an impression.”

“Were you…did you do anything intravenously?”

“No, I never used needles.”

She seemed visibly relieved. “I, ah, I knew you were dealing it.”

“But you didn’t know I was my own customer.” He focused on her socks because he was afraid of what he would see in her eyes. “When one is in a fancy suit, living in a house like this, drug addiction is far easier to hide than if one is a junkie in a cardboard box in an alley. But the reality is, both the homeless man and I are exactly the same when it comes to being crippled.”

“You detoxed,” she murmured.

“I did, yes. Three months ago, I went to the clinic to be medically supervised while I got off the cocaine. Unfortunately, my”—he touched his head—“my brain did not do well. I had a period of psychosis.”

“Why didn’t your cousins just say this?”

“Would you have come if you’d been told I was dying of insanity?” He wanted to reach out to her, but he stayed where he was because he didn’t want to pen her in. “I am very sorry that you were deceived, and I do believe that you, and you alone, are the reason that I am here instead of still at that clinic. But you shouldn’t have been lied to. That was wrong.”

Marisol opened her mouth, but didn’t speak right away. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I haven’t been thinking correctly. And more than that…I was ashamed. Addiction is an ugly, nasty disease, and I didn’t want you to know I was so weak as to get lost in it.”

She looked up at the ceiling. Refocused on him. “So you are not dying.”

“No, I am not. Not more than any other living, mortal entity.” He shook his head. “And please know I am sorry. I truly am.”

It was a long while before she moved toward him, and at first, he assumed she was leaving the room to go gather her things and her grandmother. But then she stopped in front of him.

Tilting his chin up with her forefinger, she stared into his eyes, and he prayed that she found whatever she was looking for.

“I’m glad you’re going to be okay,” she said after a long moment.

Will you stay, he thought as he put his hands lightly on her hips. Will you still stay with me?

He kept those questions to himself. He was too afraid of the answers.



* * *



—

God was so odd.

As Sola stood in front of Assail, she thought she probably needed to rephrase that, even though it rhymed. After all, she had prayed at that mass for just this kind of break in the bad news, had hoped for this unbelievable outcome, this reprieve.

But instead of jumping for joy, she was left off-kilter and feeling betrayed. Part of her told her to get off her high horse and understand Assail’s and his cousins’ point of view. The other half, though, was feeling manipulated.

“I hate that you’ve put me in this position.”

He nodded. “Myself as well.”

“So I guess I should just go home.”

“Your home is not Miami and you know it.”

“It’s not Caldwell, either,” she countered. “I’ve been here for ten years, and you know something—they’ve all sucked. Which is a helluva commentary considering how bad the decade before this was.”

“Your grandmother is your home. Wherever she is, you are at your place of residence.”

Damn you, she thought. For knowing me.

“Marisol, I am out of the life. I am as free as you are. I would like to start a new chapter—anywhere. Miami, Caldwell, overseas. Like you, my home is where another is, not specific to any particular zip code.”

As he stared up at her, his moonlight eyes were steady and sad.

“So you’re at home with your cousins.” She took a step away from him. “Wherever they are you—”

“Don’t be daft. This is naught to do with them.”

“Watch your tone. You are not in a position to get pushy.”

“I can protect you. My cousins and I are a safer bet for the two of you, and well you know it.”

Sola narrowed her stare on him. “I’ve been doing a pretty good goddamn job on my own.”

“Are you willing to gamble your life on that? Your grandmother’s? There is safety in numbers.”

“Do you really want me to stay with you only through self-interest?”

“Whatever it takes.”

She shook her head. “You have no pride.”

“Nope. None. Not when it comes to you.”

Sola went back over to the drapes that he wouldn’t let her open. Jesus, it was like living with a bunch of vampires in this house, everything buttoned up during the daylight hours. Then again, that was the way of drug dealers. Night owls, the lot of them.

Staring at the opaque fabric, because there was no looking through it, she tried on for size the idea of them moving around together as a pack, Assail, her grandmother, the two cousins, Markcus, herself.

Turning back to him, she looked at him for the longest time, weighing everything. He was right, there was strength in numbers. And he was still so weak, his body frail under the button-down that he’d tucked into those too-loose twill slacks.