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My chin shakes, and I bite my lip to stop it, needing him to understand.
“I walked into Fading Ink needing a change. To take charge of my pathetic life and turn it into something else so my children would be proud of me.” Tears roll down my cheeks into salty rivulets. “And now, I’m probably throwing it away for a chance to be with you. You asked me to be brave. To take a chance. But it’s you who’s wary of doing the same. What are you afraid of, Mark? Why is everything you see deception?”
He exhales, rubbing his face as if he wants to erase whatever he just said.
“The people I came across had dark, warped motives behind their smiles and kind faces. Some of them got off on others’ pain or playing with their innocence. I guess I stopped believing in good, stopped seeing the light. It’s much easier if you appraise the threat of malice before it has a chance to seize you.”
His hands cup my face, brushing away the tears. Those whiskey pools, full of liquid turbulence and fierce love but also shadows, capable of reaching the abyss within me. Even if it scares him to trust his heart, Mark’s lowering his shields to let me in. He’s willing to open his tortured soul for me to descend. I can’t help it, I want to heal him, I want to touch his dark and kiss those scars etched so deep in his being. But I’m afraid he might awaken my own demons, and this time, they might destroy me from within.
My hand weaves into his hair, and I pull his face to mine until his hands fall to my waist, connecting us together. The vulnerable look on his face vibrates through me until I feel resonance deep within.
“I won’t hurt you, Mark.”
His eyes flick between mine, gauging my sincerity.
“I won’t steal your dignity.” I kiss his parted lips and he groans as I linger. “Break your heart.” I feel robust thumps in my palm. “Or enslave your soul.” I pause, letting him see me too. “All I ever do is feed you with my passion you awakened and love your faults.”
“Cassandra.” He swallows, and his head lowers to my neck, fighting his emotions as I hold him in my embrace. We both are jaded, our souls tattered and hearts broken, but we can fit our pieces together if we try.
“Who are they? What have they done to you?” I whisper.
“I can’t . . . not yet.”
My heart aches, watching him struggle. What the hell did they do to him?
“And the Cades? Have they ever deceived you?”
His gaze snaps to mine as if he didn’t expect me to ask this.
My mind races, thinking about his earlier reference. What did he mean by ‘they bite, you bleed’? “Don’t hide the truth from me, please.”
“I’ll tell you one day, I promise, just . . .” He closes his eyes. “I need more time, okay?”
I nod, curbing my need to know it now. The moment needs to be right. I have a feeling we both might need a safe place for this conversation. Maybe his home can give him comfort to open up to me.
“Let’s go, show me your flat. I yet need to see it in the daylight.” I lick my lips as he strokes my jaw with his calloused fingers, watching me like I’m his salvation. “Bes
ides, I’m starving.”
“I’ll cook something for you,” Mark offers, and I nod, letting him lead me to his sanctuary.
I want him more than anything, but I don’t know if I can survive his demons, living in the grooves of his soul like shadows, consuming all the light. They’re violent and his heart’s full of mistrust. When it claws at you, it bleeds you raw.
16
Hunger
~Mark~
She slays me.
I’m undone, an open book for her to read and taste every emotion ever written. She disengaged the barriers I raised to protect myself, leaving an opening for her to slip inside. I just don’t believe our relationship is strong enough to withstand the earthquake. We need to build a stronger foundation to survive the truth and grow as a couple or even a family.
“This is amazing,” she breathes out, walking farther into the room, looking like she belongs here. Her gaze skims over the knick-knacks, scattered on the shelves, and then stops to study photos. She picks up one with Rob, Lamar, and me. “When was this?”
“After graduation. We were three idiots, believing we could take over the world.” And years later, we did. We created our own empire.
“You look happy,” she remarks. Vanilla scent drifts to me as I come closer. “I love your man cave,” she adds, studying my bookshelf, and it makes my chest burn hot.
