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“You’ve got a soft spot for me, Nate. And let’s say you hadn’t come for me. Then I would have been free, and you wouldn’t have been hurt. But you did and…well, the Lucianos wanted you here.”
“I will always find you.” He smiles dumbly, like this is not a life-or-death situation.
“Stop.” Distress threatens to strangle me. “Please, stop.”
His eyes flick to the gun and back to my face. “Sam warned me. He said you earned your reputation for a reason.” He nods to himself, like remembering the conversation. “He said I should kill you before I become one of the people who wish they had.”
I lick my lips, but they still tremble when I breathe in. “Do you wish you had?”
The hint of another genuine smile breaks his flat lips. “No.”
“Even though I’m about to kill you.”
He nods slowly. “Even though you’re about to kill me, baby. I don’t regret one single moment with you.”
What?
No, Kayla. He’s manipulating you. Again.
I shake my head, chasing the thoughts away. “I told you, Nate. I told you to give me back my freedom. I told you to let me go, that I wouldn’t adapt.” I pause for a split second, losing my voice. “I told you yesterday that I wouldn’t forgive you.”
“You did. And I didn’t listen.”
“Why?” I croak. “Why didn’t you listen? Why didn’t you just give me what I needed?”
“Because.” He shrugs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. It wasn’t an option for me, little sunflower. I have no way of explaining it.”
“Kayla.” Vito’s voice brings me out of the conversation. “You need to do this. The longer you wait, the harder it will be.”
“Just… give me a fucking minute.”
I swallow thickly as my hand trembles. I have killed countless men before. My hand has never shaken. I crack my neck, looking deep into his eyes.
“Name it,” I push out with a wobbling voice.
His eyebrows shoot up to his forehead, surprise clear on his face. It’s one of the only emotions that is so clear on him. It breaks through the mask, softens his features.
“I don’t know.”
“Nate,” I plead. I’m holding the gun, he’s bound to a chair, and yet I’m still the one begging. “You know your weakness. It’s me. You let me get under your skin. You got addicted to me. You wanted to keep me safe, to protect me. You know what that is. Like warming up your hands on the coldest winter day. You bit more than you could chew. You did.”
“I did,” he admits, his eyes never once leaving mine. “All you’re saying is true. But it’s your choice to get your freedom, not something I will give you. Put the gun down, we’ll go home, and everything will go back as it was.”
“I can’t do that,” I hiss between clenched teeth. My pulse thunders in my ears, my hand holding the gun now sweating. “I can’t go back to your house as your captive. Tell me how you feel. Name it, and maybe…maybe we can move forward.”
“Kayla—”
“Name it!” I yell. “I did it for you. Every day, every time you asked, I named it. For once, please. Just this one time. Name it.”
“Love.”
His voice is flat, his eyes empty, his face relaxed.
But the way he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down roughly, speaks to me. The way he shifts in his seat is telling. He cracks his neck, and his shoulders twitch with the need to move. Maybe his hand wants to rub just below his ear.
“I am in love with you, Kayla.”
Weirdly, not much changes within me at his admission.
