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“Cullen, being the oldest, got the brunt of our father’s anger. He was a drunk and an addict, stealing to make ends meet, then using the majority of it to buy his booze and drugs. Cullen had more black-and-blue days than I want to remember.” My chest ached as I remembered all the marks and cuts Cullen had endured, the pain my older brother had gone through to protect us.
“He wasn’t always like this, you know.” I looked over at Amelia and saw unshed tears in her eyes. Despite all the shit Cullen had thrown at her, she was feeling empathy for him.
“Dom.” She whispered my name, and I felt my heart race.
“But life experience, my father, pain, and anger made him who he was. Who he is. And he’s been like this for as long as I can remember.”
“But you said he wasn’t always like this?” she asked softly, and I shook my head.
“No, he wasn’t always like this. But that was when he was very young. He had to harden up really quick, had to become the person you’ve met. It was the only way he could survive. The only way he could protect us.” I held her tighter. “But that’s not an excuse for what he did to you, what he would have done because he thought it was the right call for the family.”
She didn’t say anything, but I could feel her emotion as easily as if it were my own. It was a strange connection, something I’d never experienced before. I wanted to hold on to it, to never let it go.
“I’m sorry. I know about shitty childhoods all too well.” Her voice was soft but strong. There was no self-pity, and it was because she’d become hardened over time, like we all had when faced with adversity, degradation, and just being stuck in a shitty situation.
I wanted to know all about her, about what it was like for her growing up. I longed to be the person she talked to, confided in. But not now. The conversation we’d just exchanged had been enough. All I wanted to do was hold her, to let her know and feel that I was here, that I wasn’t going anywhere. I leaned in and buried my nose at the crook of her neck, inhaling softly. She smelled like me and it was fucking incredible, had me hard and aching, wanting and desiring her all over again like I hadn’t just been buried between her thighs.
“Why did you take me?” she asked almost too softly for me to hear.
I didn’t move from the crook of her neck for long seconds, but then I pulled back and cupped her face with one of my hands, smoothing my thumb along her cheek, right below her eye. “I told you,” I said just as quietly as when she asked me the question.
She shook her head slowly, staring into my eyes. I knew she wanted an answer, but I didn’t actually have one to give. I couldn’t explain it.
“This isn’t something I do, kidnap women when I’m on a job, but I saw you and I felt something in me awaken, become alive.” Those words hung between us, and I let her absorb them, to fully understand what I meant. And I knew she did. I didn’t have to explain those words, my feelings. We were on the same wavelength.
I smoothed my hand down her neck, over her shoulder, and cupped her waist. She was so tiny compared to me. I leaned in and kissed her. “I can’t let you go. I won’t,” I murmured against her mouth. Her breath was sweet and warm as it brushed against my lips. “You were mine from the moment I first saw you.” I pulled back and stared into her eyes. “Say the words. Mean them.” I said that harsher than I probably should have. “Tell me so I know you won’t leave, so I know I won’t have to chase you.” I gave her one last, lingering kiss before pulling back again. “Because I will, Amelia. Chase you. Find you. I won’t stop until you’re mine forever. Tell me with no doubt in your mind that you know you’re supposed to be here with me, that the stars lined up, the cards were in our favor, whatever the fuck you want to call it, that you know with certainty that this was exactly the path we were both supposed to take.”
She was silent for long moments, and I could see her mind working, saw the expression on her face. I didn’t know what I expected, what I thought she’d say. Maybe I thought she’d tell me to fuck off or that I was crazy.
I was. For her.
But I held my breath as I waited for her to tell me, to say the words or hit me, tell me this was a mistake, that she regretted being with me. And when she leaned in and was the one to kiss me, I knew she was mine. I knew with that one touch of her lips to mine, because she’d made the initiative; she’d been the one to reach for me.
