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“What do you want?” he whispered, moving strands of my damp hair away from my temple. “Tell me, Amelia.” His voice was so soft, so gentle.
I thought about his question, about how maybe I could tell him the truth; maybe this was something I needed to accept, embrace.
“You,” I said softly. I wanted to be with him, wanted to let myself just be free. I knew being with someone, with Dom, didn’t mean all my troubles or my past, or anything like that, would fade away.
Broken bones didn’t heal overnight.
Scars didn’t just vanish.
He gently gripped my chin so I had to stare into his face, into his eyes.
“Mine, Amelia. You’re all mine, forever.”
And for the first time in my life since I’d met Richard, I actually felt like someone gave a shit about me irrevocably, no matter what, and until the end of time.
Chapter Eighteen
Dom
I held her, listening to the even sound of her breathing, letting it lull me to sleep. Although I wouldn’t be able to close my eyes, didn’t want to miss a moment, a second with her.
I kept thinking about Cullen near her, the threat, the fact that he could’ve taken her from me before I got there. It made my blood run cold. I held on to her a little tighter, pulled her closer to my body and buried my nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. That scent would be forever ingrained in me, in every single inch of my body, to the very nucleus of my cells, the very marrow in my bones.
“Is Richard okay?” she suddenly asked softly.
I knew who she was talking about, had scoped out that jewelry store before we’d robbed it, knew it as if I owned it myself. “Why wouldn’t he be okay?”
She was silent for a second. “I saw him get hurt.”
I shook my head. “We didn’t touch him. He hurt himself by tripping. He’s fine as far as I know. He’s fine where we are concerned about it all.”
She nodded slowly and I worried about her, about how she felt, about how she felt about me in all of this. I didn’t want her to hate me because of this, didn’t want any resentment, any animosity. I wanted her to… love me.
“I don’t know anything about you,” she finally whispered sleepily, her voice thick and drowsy.
It was sexy as hell.
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know. All you have to do is ask.”
She was silent for a moment, still. Then she shifted in my arms and I loosened my grip, allowing her to turn to face me. But then I had my arms right back around her waist, my fingers right at the little dip above her ass. God, I was getting hard again just having her close.
“Can you tell me about your life, your childhood?” She sounded a little hesitant about that, as if she were almost afraid to ask me.
I couldn’t blame her for her reaction, because I’d taken her, she’d almost gotten killed twice, and I wasn’t a good man. I was a bad guy, the villain in a movie or a book, the one no one really rooted for despite having the upbringing we did.
I started running the tips of my fingers along her arm, thinking about what to tell her, how to say it. I wouldn’t lie to her. I wanted Amelia to know about me. This hadn’t been about fucking her or keeping her like some kind of pet like Cullen said. This was real, the feelings I had for her strong and genuine… true.
“We didn’t have the best upbringing, the greatest childhood, if I’m being honest.” I stared into her green eyes, wanting to get lost in them, starting to feel like I was. In fact, I was getting lost in her, and her scent and feel, the way she touched me, looked at me… the way she resisted me but then gave in to me. “My father was a piece of shit, raised us to be the thieves we are. We didn’t know love in our household.” I was silent for a moment, thinking about the life we’d led, how Cullen had been the punching bag for our father.
“What about your mother?”
I shook my head slowly. “She stuck around for a while, but only long enough for Cullen and me to really remember her. After Frankie and Wilder were born, she left. The twins were only a year old at the time, so they don’t remember anything about her.”
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling. I hadn’t thought about any of this shit in ages. I tried not to. And even though it hurt to talk about it, dredging up this anger and rage I felt, the fact that I wanted to take it out on that bastard for all he put us through, I was glad I was telling Amelia.
