Vengeance Aside (Wanted Men 0.5)(66)

“He just stared at me. He didn’t greet me. Didn’t smile. Didn’t do anything. Not even when I screamed.” She wiped at her chin when she felt her tears drip off. “He just stared without seeing me because he’d hung himself before lunch. Or that’s what the coroner told my dad a couple of days later.”

The feeling of Lukas’s hands coming to rest on her shoulders had a strange effect on her. Rather than shake them off and run, she turned and burrowed into his chest. His arms banded around her and she appreciated it because that’s what held her together as she went on.

“I’ve tried not to feel responsible or guilty about his suicide because when he was alive, I did everything I could think of to draw him out. But I could never reach him, and since it happened, I’ve just felt…nothing, really, because I stopped. I don’t care about people, which means I don’t feel for them, and that protects me from being hurt. But I’ve wondered about things. You know? Like, was he thinking only of himself that day? Or did he think about who he was leaving behind? Was he sad to be leaving me? Did he know I would cry for months? Every time I went into the bathroom at school where I used to text him, I cried. When I found myself alone in our kitchen where he’d spent so much of his time eating, I cried. When I went into our backyard and saw our bikes, I cried. When I walked by his bedroom, I would open his door and stand there, not knowing what else to do because he should have been there. When I went back to school, I walked alone…with the wind for company when it used to be him. Did he know I would miss him for the rest of my life? Why didn’t he care enough to get some help? Or did he? I know he must have tried talking to our fucking parents. Or maybe he didn’t, I don’t know. But if he did, and they failed him, it wouldn’t be a shocker. I’d like to ask, but if I knew for sure, I’d probably kill them.”

She clutched at her anchor’s lower back. “You know what the worst is? The anger. The anger I feel because he knew my parents wouldn’t bother him in his room. They liked when we stayed in the basement. Which meant he knew I’d find him. Why didn’t he care that he was leaving me with an image of ceiling tiles on the floor and him hanging there like that? Did he not know I would try to get him down? Did he not know, for the rest of my fucking life, I would remember how tight that motherfucking rope was?”

As she began to cry in earnest, she tried to apologize. “I’m sorry. I don’t m-mean to put these f-feelings on you.”

Lukas didn’t say anything but to shush her. He cupped the back of her head, kissed her temple, and held her against him as the inferno burned through her chest.

A long time passed, and when she finally quieted, he stripped them both and brought her into the cooling water of the pool. She was so exhausted, she didn’t even protest but to say, “Your people.”

“Are used to Samuel and Farah. They know enough to stay away when they hear the pool being used in the middle of the night. Hold your breath.”

She took half a breath and closed her eyes. He gently dunked her to wash her ravaged face, then turned her around so she basically floated on top of him as he bobbed in the refreshing water.

As the minutes passed, she began to feel lighter and lighter. But it wasn’t because, for the first time since her brother’s suicide, she’d unloaded all she’d kept inside. It was because the man behind her was holding her up. Supporting her. Sharing his strength in an unassuming way she couldn’t help but appreciate…and accept.

***

Lukas held Dale, feeling her skin against his, her breath feathering over his shoulder because she’d turned her head to the side.

Suicide.

Jesus Christ.

“Something else that’s non-negotiable in this relationship,” he murmured. “You’re never again to apologize for sharing your grief with me.”

As she nodded, she sent her hands under the water to stroke his hips and thighs. “I just know how overwhelming other people’s emotions can be, and I hate the idea of making you feel the way others have made me feel.”

Empathy was definitely a burden on her. “You’re affected by others’ feelings more than the average person.”

She nodded again, her touch on his thighs becoming even more gentle. Almost reverent. “Their energy—their emotional energy—comes at me in…waves. I try to block it so that only ebbs and trickles touch me because it can be overwhelming. Yours I don’t feel the need to protect myself against. When you’re sad, I’m sadder. When you get angry, my heart races and I feel my blood pressure rise because I get angry right along with you. When you’re feeling passionate, I’m bombarded. It’s like a tidal wave sweeps over me and pulls me under so that my desire becomes ten times what it was and, yeah, that’s how I lose my mind when we’re in bed.”

Well, fuck. That was interesting. His cock certainly thought so, because it solidified between her ass cheeks. “Ignore that. It was bound to happen.”

Disobeying him, she turned in his arms and wrapped her legs around him, trapping his length against her pussy. She rubbed her breasts on his chest as he looked into her face. Her guard was down completely, and the natural way she smiled at him proved it. She wasn’t hiding from him anymore. He’d finally gotten through her defenses.

“I can’t express to you how sorry I am for the loss you suffered, Magdalena.” Now that he knew her past, he understood why she was afraid to let anyone close. How did one trust when the people in their lives consistently let them down? Or turned their backs on them altogether?