I suspect that is the tip of the iceberg, but I can tell how hard it was for him to even tell me that. So I don’t speak, don’t ask probing questions. I let him process that he’s taken this monumental step. His entire body is rigid, and the warmth of me pressed against him no longer seems to be helping.
He turns his head and glances at me. “What about now?”
My brow furrows. “What about now, what?”
“Now that you know, it’s okay to feel different.” A muscle in his jaw ticks as he swallows. “I won’t blame you. I understand.”
I blink at the words, not comprehending how he believes his past will send me running, before I realize that’s all he’s ever known. I’m the only person he’s ever opened up to.
He’s taken a huge risk. He doesn’t trust it.
The only bonds he trusts are trauma and pain, which is why he’s insulated himself from them since he escaped.
I pull away, getting up from the bed and coming to stand in front of him.
He watches me with wary, shuttered midnight eyes.
I fall to my knees, and his expression flashes with such surprise, my heart breaks. I put my hands on his thighs and peer up at him.
He seems transfixed by me.
I wet my lips. “You know what I think?”
He shakes his head. “I have no idea.”
I lever myself up, so our faces are close and slide my palms over his hair-rough skin. “That I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”
His brows draw in. “Jessica…don’t.”
“Yes.” I grip his chin and pull him to me, brushing my lips against his. “Don’t you understand how rare you are?” I thread my hands through his hair, nipping at his mouth. “What a miracle it is that you became the type of man you are?”
“I’m not—” he groans when the tip of my tongue slips along the seam of his lips, and as if he can’t help himself, he pulls me from the floor “—good.”
“That’s okay,” I whisper, straddling his hips. “I don’t need you to be good.” I rub against the length of his burgeoning erection. “I’m not good either.”
“Jessica.” My name is reverent as he slides his hands over the curve of my ass.
“Thank you for trusting me, Charlie.” I push at his chest, so he falls flat against the mattress. “Let me show you how grateful I am.”
And I do.
Until the haunted look is gone.
Until he falls into a peaceful sleep beside me.
Chapter 23
Charlie
“Okay, where are we at?” I ask Ryder and Sadie, rubbing my eyes, gritty from lack of sleep. For the past two days, we’ve been combing through the lists of names Jessica has given us from the river project. But so far, we’ve come up empty.
Sadie holds up the list. “We’ve eliminated 75%, but we should be close to finished by the end of the day. Anyone who’s been flagged as a potential connection to the project, either through money or business, has been sent to Claire for a deep search. So far, the three businesses we’d clocked aren’t turning up anything.”
I turn my attention to Ryder. “Has Diaz’s team gone over the dashcam footage again?”
He nods. “They spliced together the sequence of events based on the footage we recovered, and it shows exactly what it did the first time. Crenshaw was at fault. He was speeding, driving erratically, weaving in and out of traffic before losing control of the vehicle and T-boning the SUV of a housewife driving with her two kids in the car, setting off a chain reaction. There is zero connection between him and the family.”
I’m tired and dull-witted, my brain churning through information but unable to find the connection. I promise myself, yet again, that tonight I’ll get a good night’s sleep. Something exceedingly difficult to accomplish with Jessica invading my life.
