Kiss of Fire (Imdalind, #1)(47)

“What changed?” I asked.

“You have seen my father what… maybe a handful of times?”

I nodded in agreement.

“I see him every day of my life. He is a vicious, ruthless man, who uses people and throws them away, just to get what he wants. He used my mother to give him a son. He uses Timothy to make him powerful. He uses…” He stopped suddenly like he’d caught himself. “I don’t want to be anything like him.”

“Then what do you want to be?”

“I want to be good; I want to look back on my life and be proud of what I see and what I have done.” His hand moved from my back to tangle through my hair, his fingers running down the long strands that fell down my back.

I felt my body tense for just a moment, but put it aside. I shouldn’t be worried about a stupid mark right now.

“Well, that shouldn’t be too hard. Just do it.”

“I wish it was so easy.”

“Why can’t it be?” Our voices were whispers.

He paused. “I have to leave.”

My hand tensed against his chest. Leave? What did he mean? Like leave the house, leave the state, leave the family? Where?

“Leave?” I asked in a panic, hoping for some clarification.

“Yes, leave. I don’t know where to yet, but it has to be far away.”

My heart felt like lead in my chest; a tense, un-beating mass, causing more pain than joy.

“I’m planning to tell him tomorrow. And, to be honest, I am terrified.” He laughed to break the edge in his voice, but his heart rate still hadn’t decelerated.

“Why are you so scared?” I reached my hand up and placed my palm on his chest, right over his heart. His heart rate increased again before dropping. Hearing the change made me smile.

“I am afraid of what he will do to me. He has… a temper.” His last word ended as if it was not what he had meant to say. The idea of Ryland getting hurt by his father in some way made my skin crawl.

“Then, just stay, Ryland. Don’t leave.”

“I have to go; it would be worse if I stayed.”

I didn’t know what to say. His voice was so calm, but the terror behind it was so evident; it made my heart hurt. I wrapped my arms around his torso and pulled him toward me; he responded to my gentle tug, pulling me into him further.

“Will you wait for me?” His breath caught on my hair as he lowered his head to whisper in my ear.

“Wait for you? What do you mean?” I turned my head up to face him, surprised to see his face only millimeters away from mine. My words got caught in my throat.

“Oh, Joclyn,” he sighed. “You are the reason I want to be good. The reason I have seen the evil in my father. You make me good. You make me whole.” He paused, studying me as his fingers moved over the skin of my cheekbone. “I need to leave; for you, for me.” He paused again, his eyes searching deep into mine.

I could have stared into the endless depths of those eyes forever. I could have asked a million questions to dissect the mysteries behind them. He stopped me with three words.

“I love you.” He whispered it, his voice weighed down with the deep emotion of the million times he had tried to tell me.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. My heart caught in my chest as his eyes continued to search mine. They were so full of passion, of conviction, of love. I felt tears build beneath my lids as I looked at him; so overwhelmed at what he had just said.

“Oh, Jos. Don’t cry, sweetheart.” He reached up and wiped away a rogue tear that slowly trailed down my face. His finger trailed up the right side of my jaw, moving toward the mark. My body tensed for just a moment before I cast it away. He had told me he loved me; what did one cursed mark matter?

And then, his finger made contact with the raised mark.

It felt like a thousand volts shot through my body. I gasped in surprise at the sensation, shock whipping through me. My vision went white as the jolt encompassed me, my back arching in surprise or pain; I didn’t know which. The electricity had gone as soon as it had come and my vision refocused on Ryland, but he didn’t have the same look in his eyes as before.

He was terrified.

His body had tensed around me; his arms tightening as his eyes darted around the room. He stood up, taking my body with him, keeping me plastered against him.

“No,” he moaned, and his voice sounded like an agonizing sob.

“No!” His yell of pain and fear echoed around the room as he tilted my head to the right side, his hands jerking my hair aside to reveal the mark.

“No,” he repeated, but this time his voice strained into a sob.

He lowered his head to mine and pressed his lips to the brand, a smaller shock moving through me at his touch. He stayed like that, with his rigid arms surrounding me, his tender lips against my mark.

“I’m sorry.” My voice was panicked. His reaction was so unexpected and fearful; I felt my body begin to shake.

“How long have you had the mark, Joclyn?” he demanded.

My body froze; my heart dropped. I wanted to kick and scream and hurt something. Why did this mark always have to ruin my life?

“Joclyn!” Ryland yelled in a panic. “How long?” He released my body and moved me away from him, his eyes meeting mine with the terrified look they held earlier.