The sincerity in his words molds around my heart and constricts it mercilessly. Another sob crawls up, and I cover my mouth, muffling the horrible noise.
I judged and convicted him without thought or examination. His innocence is all over his face, his unblinking eyes, and the strength of his posture. It’s been there all along.
We stare at each other through the shadows, separated by five feet and a bottomless well of regret. He fucked up by not communicating, and I made it a thousand times worse by giving up on him.
I thought I was doing the brave thing by dropping the hammer and running away. I thought it was the right thing. But as it turns out, I didn’t just hurt myself. I hurt a man who has only ever protected and loved me.
I should’ve stayed at the penthouse that day and let him explain. It’s the least I could’ve done after sleeping with his best friend and digging the blade of jealousy deeper and deeper.
Cole isn’t a cheater. I am. Those are the truths I conveniently ignored to convince myself to walk away.
“What I did is unforgivable.” I wipe the tears from my face and slow my breathing. “You must think I’m a hypocritical piece of shit.”
“Don’t—”
“Let me finish.” I suck in a breath. “I took one look at those photos and used it as ammo to leave you. The woman, the dead body, the cameras—it was all excuses to avoid the decision I couldn’t make. I couldn’t choose between you, and those photos gave me the coward’s way out.”
“You’re not a coward.” He takes a step forward, his timbre soft and low. “You’re an emotion, a passion. You run deep and wild, rise with the storm, and adjust with the wind. No matter what direction life takes you, you endure with remarkable strength.”
An ugly, sobbing laugh tumbles past my lips. “I’m a reckless, unsorted disaster.”
“If I wanted prudence and order, I’d hook up with a nun. I want you, Danni.”
Warmth unfurls inside me. I didn’t realize how badly I needed to hear that, even if I don’t deserve the assurance.
“I hurt you.” The words tremble on my lips, thick with self-loathing.
He remains several paces away, doesn’t reach out or close the distance. But I feel the mystical cohesion between us, the union of parts of the same soul. The comforting sound of his exhales opens my lungs, and the steady touch of his gaze expands my ribcage. I can finally breathe again.
How terribly foolish I was to walk away from everything I ever wanted, when I had it all standing right in front of me. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not.”
My eyebrows pull in. “What?”
“I’m not sorry for my actions. I disabled your car, drugged your coffee, and drove you three-hundred miles away from your home. I won’t apologize for it. In fact, if you leave before I say what I need to say, I’ll tie your ass up and drag you back by your hair.”
Unbidden, my insides tingle and heat. “You are the reason I’m here? Not Trace?”
“It was his idea. I executed it.”
I try to picture the logistics of transporting an unconscious woman across the state. “Did you drive separately or—?”
“I drove the Range Rover. He rode in the backseat with you.”
My eyebrows rise. That’s unexpected. Too bad I wasn’t awake to experience the awkwardness of that four-hour drive. “Is the car yours, too?”
“Yes.”
“A lakefront estate, a Range Rover, boats, ATVs…? I know you have secrets, but it feels like the life I shared with you was a big fat lie.”
“I brought you here to explain. I’ll tell you everything.”
“How?” I wrap the blanket tighter around me. “I thought you couldn’t tell me anything?”
“I’ll explain that, too.” With his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, he steps closer and stops within arm’s reach, gazing down at me. “We’ll talk inside, where it’s warm.”
It’s a trap. If I go back in that house, I’ll stay. It’s two against one, and they know how to control me. The dynamics of our personalities put me at a disadvantage. I’m passive by nature and don’t stand a chance against their domineering, persuasive modes of operation.
“I don’t know, Cole. I’m outnumbered.” I meet his eyes. “Like a lamb among wolves.”
He huffs an exasperated sound. “You really don’t know, do you?”
I shake my head, not following.
“This is your world.” He spreads his arms wide. “I just live in it. You own my heart, my every thought. You have the power to take whatever you want when you want it. You’re fucking gorgeous, Danni. Compassionate and smart. Independent and cool as hell. A titan of feminine influence.” His eyes glimmer, and he laughs. “It’s impossible to not feel…completely possessed by you. And I’m not the only one.”
He glances at the house, where Trace awaits our return.
“Why are you telling me this?” I shift uncomfortably.
“The ends to which we’ve gone…” He swipes a hand down his face. “We’ve shared you, fought each other for you, broken laws to keep you. We’re both so eaten up in love with you there isn’t anything we won’t do.”
He says we as if they’ve worked out some kind of truce, but I’m not buying it.
“Will you let me go?” I ask. “Right now?”
“No.” He releases a slow breath. “Trace and I will be making the decisions going forward. But there’s only one decision that really matters, and it’s in your hands. Whatever you decide determines the rest of our lives. So let me ask you…” He cocks his head. “Who do you think has the most control here?”
A knot swells in my throat. “I do.”
“You got it.”
“What do you mean you’ll be making the decisions going forward?” I rise from the bench, heart pounding.
Why am I getting worked up? It’s not like I’ll be sticking around long enough to be pulled into their plans.
Cole smirks and thrusts his chin in the direction of the house. “Come on.”
Without waiting, he walks down the dock, headed toward the shore.
“I’m not staying.” I trail after him, holding the blanket around my shoulders.
“Okay.” With a wolfish grin, he opens the gate and holds it for me as I pass.
“I mean it. Cole. I’ll listen to what you have to say. Then I’m leaving.”
“Not without your punishment.”
“You’re not spanking me.” I walk beside him on the bridge that leads to the house, quickening my gait to match his long-legged strides.
“Do you prefer a different punishment?” He regards me out of the corner of his eye. “Hot wax? A ball-gag and blindfold? Orgasm denial?”
“Where the hell did that come from?” I squint at him. “Are you into those things?”
“I’m into anything that involves you naked and willing.”
My legs tremble, and I gulp down a breath. I’m not in the right mindset for this conversation, especially not with Trace’s silhouette looming on the terrace up ahead.
He stands about thirty feet away, beneath a wrought-iron lamppost, wearing a black overcoat and an intense expression. His bearing is so striking and soul-shakingly commanding I lose my footing and trip over the stone steps to the patio.
Cole catches my arm and casts an irritated glare at Trace.
“How long have you owned this place?” I ease away from Cole’s grip and concentrate on walking in the stiletto boots.
“Eight years.”
He owned it the entire time I’ve known him and never mentioned it. My shoulders crumple as a fresh wave of hurt crashes through me.
“It was a safe house, Danni.” He rests a hand on my arm, stopping me a few steps from Trace. “I let people in my profession stay here to recharge and regroup. I couldn’t bring you here or tell you about it and risk you running into someone or something I couldn’t explain.” His gaze sweeps over the sprawling estate. “It has an armory, control room, office, workshop—”