Up in Smoke (Crossing the Line, #2)(37)

He turned his attention to Erin, who sat beside him silently, pressed up against the window of the bus. So petite, yet so bold. Some of the time. Her sadness was seeping into his bones with every passing moment, and he needed to fix it. There was a part of him that wanted to shout and put his fist through more glass, but it would only confirm to her that they’d failed. And he didn’t think they had. Not by a long shot. How could he when she’d shaken from pleasure on his lap? It was a sight he’d be replaying in his head for a long, long time. What happened afterward didn’t have to take away from it.

“I want to take you somewhere.”

She met his gaze in the window. “Okay.”

Just like that. She trusted him not to take her somewhere she’d be uncomfortable. It made him even more determined to prove today had been amazing. Because, Jesus, he was still hard as f*ck in his jeans just thinking about it. Suspected he would be for a good, long while. Sex wasn’t the answer right now, though, badly as he wanted it to be. Badly as he needed her. No, she’d been vulnerable in front of him this afternoon, and for people like them, that was a tough pill to swallow. So he’d make sure she didn’t have to do it alone. Even if the thought of exposing himself made his head pound.

“I was discharged from the SEALs for beating a civilian.”

Very slowly, Erin straightened. She blinked a few times, as if trying to figure out why he would reveal something like that. On a bus. Out of nowhere. “Why?”

Connor fought the urge to yank her onto his lap, bury his face in her hair while he told the story. “We were on a mission. I can’t tell you where.” He cleared his throat. “For days, we were in a safe house, waiting for our target. Just…waiting. Not moving or talking. We couldn’t.”

“I’d go crazy.” She frowned. “Crazier, I mean.”

He shook his head at her. “My vantage point overlooked a school. This teacher, she…reminded me of my mother. Always fussing with the kids’ hair or making sure they had enough to eat. I didn’t need to speak the language to know they all loved her.” The view from the window was still painted on his memory. “One day, she wasn’t smiling when she got there. She limped into the damn building. During recess, I saw that she had two black eyes. I just knew.” He met her gaze, but couldn’t hold it. “And it was like seeing my mother like that all over again. I couldn’t…separate it.”

As if she could sense he needed contact with her, Erin scooted closer and pressed the sides of their bodies together. “Your dad hit your mom,” she said, not asking a question.

“Yeah.” It felt hard to swallow. “He did. And then he couldn’t anymore.”

Erin seemed to process that, her face solemn. “What happened to the teacher?”

“We got orders to move that night. Just to the opposite side of the village. Our target had become paranoid and changed locations.” He closed his eyes and remembered that night how it happened. “We were on the move when I heard a man yelling. A woman crying. We all wanted to investigate, even if it countermanded orders, but I was the only one who couldn’t make a decision one way or another. I didn’t think. I just went. I saw him beating my m—the teacher, and I just reacted.”

She stroked a hand up the side of his face, into his hair. He leaned into her touch like a lifeline, comforted by the sound of her humming in her throat, her massaging fingers. “The f*cker deserved to have the situation reversed, baby. You stood up for that woman when no one else would. I hope she holds on to that when things get rough. I hope she remembers her husband can be beaten just as easily.”

He felt weightless. Like he’d been carrying around sandbags on his shoulders for the last two years and she’d just slashed them open, allowing them to empty their contents onto the ground. Nothing could excuse what he’d done or how he’d gone about it, but knowing she didn’t judge him was a potent relief.

“What about your dad?”

For some reason, he felt no anxiety anymore in revealing this to her. Even though he’d never told a single soul in his life, save his mother who was there that night. At that moment, in the back of the dim, rumbling bus, they were the only two people in the world and no ugly memories could touch them. “When I was sixteen, I came home and found my mom. He’d hit her.” Connor shook his head. “He’d stopped for a while, straightened up, but…this time was bad. She needed stitches, a cast. It was like he’d decided to make up for lost time.” His hand fisted at the image of his mother bleeding on the kitchen floor. “I chased him out of the house and he got hit by a cab.”

Her breath hitched. “I’m sorry that happened to you. So sorry.”

“That’s not the worst part. I was—”

“Glad. You were glad he couldn’t hit your mother anymore.” She tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder, nuzzling his neck in a way that somehow healed a broken part of him. “You’re human. Sometimes advantages present themselves through death. We can’t beat ourselves up for recognizing them.” A few beats passed before she met his gaze. “You think whatever your father had inside him made its way into you. Maybe it did. But it’s no match for you, Connor. It’s an ember and you’re a beautiful house fire.”

Humbled by her vehemence, her confidence in him, he didn’t know what to say, so he just concentrated on the feel of her. Savored it.