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His jaw tenses, and his hand around the rope tightens, making his bicep flex and the suit jacket hug his arm.
“You just left me there to process it all on my own. To try to make sense of it alone.”
“I didn’t leave you alone, I—”
“Fuck you. You left me alone. Soldiers don’t count. So, fuck you, Damian. Stop having me followed. You walked away and you can just keep walking. We’re done.”
“Then why haven’t you signed the divorce papers?”
I bite the inside of my cheek and glance away momentarily because I don’t know. It’s what I wanted, to be free. He was giving me what I wanted. All I had to do was sign.
“You almost died, Cristina. I left to protect you.”
“No. You left so you wouldn’t have to face all the shit. All the messy feelings. Your brother is dead. Have you even talked to anyone about that?”
“Like a shrink?”
“Yeah, like a shrink.”
“Didn’t realize you were so positive on them. Liam says you refuse to go.”
I feel my eyebrows creep way up on my forehead. “You’re talking to Liam?”
He clears his throat and shifts his gaze momentarily like he didn’t intend on giving that away.
“Since when have you been in contact with my cousin?”
“Cristina—”
“Since when, Damian?”
“I needed to be sure you were all right.”
“Well, I’m not all right. And I’ll deal with my cousin. You stop talking to him and for the third time, fuck you. Give me that and go away.” I try to take hold of the rope ladder, but he tugs it out of reach and chuckles when I jump to try and grab it.
“What’s so funny?”
“You.”
“I’m done being your plaything.”
“You’re not my plaything. You were meant to be, but you never were.”
That takes me aback, but I force my eyes to narrow. Force myself to feel anger. “I said give me that and go away.”
“No.”
“You’re on my property. I’ll call the police.”
“It’s not your property until you sign the divorce papers.”
He’s right. “Technicality,” I say, jutting my chin out and folding my arms across my chest.
“I don’t want you out here on your own, Cristina.”
“I’m not yours to worry about anymore. And besides, I’m not on my own. You have men following me, remember? And also, you’re here.”
“I’m here to talk some sense into you. Or I was.”
“You’re here to clear your conscience.”
He considers for a long minute. “You’re right. If you’d done as you were told and signed the papers and moved on with your life, I would have a clearer conscience.”
I’m surprised. I guess I thought he’d deny it.
“I’ve never been good at doing as I’m told. I thought you knew that,” I retort.
His gaze sweeps my face, and one corner of his mouth curves upward. He licks his lips and gets a familiar glint in his eyes. It’s the one that makes him look dirty.
That makes me feel dirty.
“You know what? I change my mind,” he says.
“Change your mind about what?”
He tugs the rope ladder, testing it, then extends it out. “After you.”
I drop my arms. “What’s your game?”
“No game. Go on.”
“You’re coming with me?”
“I told you I don’t want you out here on your own.”
I study his face in the moonlight. “What are you doing, Damian?”
“You know what? I’m giving you a choice.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want me, Cristina? Because this time you should choose for yourself.” He pauses for a long minute. “Do you want me to stay or do you want me to go? Truth.” His face is serious again, eyes dark as they study me intently.
Do I want him? That’s what he’s asking me.
I look down at the ground, then slowly back up at him. That swelling inside me is back and it brings tears to my eyes. God, I missed him. I missed him so much.
But isn’t it best to tell him to go?
My hands tremble to touch him for the first time in too long, fingertips just brushing his stomach through his shirt, his chest, feeling the muscle beneath, that strength that feels so good. That feels like home.
I shift my gaze up to his.
Do I want him? Do I want the man who stole me from my life? Who plotted for almost a decade to punish me for the sins of my father?
This man who warned me about monsters when I was just a little girl. This man who was meant to be my monster.
Do I want him?33Damian“I want you,” she says.
Relief.
It’s like my lungs just opened up and I can breathe again.
Cristina seems different. No, not that. She’s more. More herself, maybe. Stronger. She’s always had defiance in her, but this is something else.
But I guess almost dying will do that to you.
She takes hold when I extend the ladder to her and starts her climb. It’s wobbly and she stops to look down when she’s only a few rungs up.
