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“Even back then you didn’t like asking fo

r help,” he murmured.

I held his chin and tipped his face up to me so I could wash the blood off his neck. “Yes, even back then,” I said as our eyes locked. “So when I had just turned fifteen, he upped his game. He started confronting me more and touching me when he did. He’d whisper shit in my ear and tell me the things he wanted to do to me. The guy was seventeen then, and I’m pretty sure he already had psychopathic tendencies. The shit he wanted to do to me was violent. I told my parents who spoke to his parents. Of course, they didn’t believe it. Dad took it to the police, but there wasn’t anything they could do without proof.”

“What happened?” Nitro asked through gritted teeth.

I stared at him, not wanting to go on. He moved his hands to my waist and held me there, his touch reassuring. Protective. It said, “I’ve got you.”

Taking a deep breath, I shared one of my greatest regrets. “The threats went on for weeks, until the point where I was scared out of my wits. I wasn’t eating, hardly slept, and spent my days too frightened to leave the house. This was during the school holidays and Chris was away during those weeks. When he came home and found out what had been happening, he beat the guy up and tried to protect me. A few weeks passed and I didn’t see him anywhere. We thought he’d backed off. And then there was a party at the end of the summer holidays. I went with my friends and told Chris I’d be fine because it was a party and the guy usually only approached me when I was alone. We all drank a fair bit that night and my friends all got trashed. And that’s when the guy took his shot.”

“He attacked you?” It was like Nitro was holding his breath while he waited for my reply.

I shook my head as a single tear slid down my face. “No. I was walking down the road to go home when he pulled up in his car. He trailed me for ages, not saying much, just staring at me like a crazy guy. I called Chris to come and get me, and in that time, the guy tried to actually run me down with his car. I ran into the bush to get away from him and he came after me. But that was when Christ arrived, so he didn’t get to me before Chris started punching him. They fought for ages, until Chris had beaten him so badly that he didn’t walk for over a week.”

I’d stopped washing Nitro’s face as I told him the story. He stood and pulled me into his arms when I finished. I hesitated to embrace him, though, because I didn’t want to hurt him.

Pulling back a little, he found my eyes. “Put your arms around me, Tatum,” he said gruffly.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

He gave me a look that told me just to do it, so I did, and he held me tighter. We stayed like that for a long time until finally he let me go and said, “What happened to the guy after that?”

“His parents agreed with mine to keep quiet and not go to the police with what happened. They didn’t want Chris to be charged with assault. Their family ended up moving away after that, and we never saw or heard from that guy again.” I dropped my eyes as I thought about what that assault did to Chris. When I found his gaze again, I said, “The thing was, though, that one of the local gangs took notice of Chris after that. They saw him as a fighter and wanted him on their crew because of his fighting ability. And from then on, he was always tied up with crime and violence and drugs.”

“Fuck,” Nitro swore, his hands cradling my head. “You can’t blame yourself for that shit. He made his choices, and you couldn’t control them.”

“I should have called the police that night, instead of Chris. If it wasn’t for that, he would never have caught the eye of that gang and his whole life would have been different.” I was lost in my memories and thoughts. I’d lived with this regret for years and it had been stirred when Chris was murdered. It almost suffocated me some days. I was convinced it would never let me out of its grip.

Nitro’s jaw clenched. “Regret is a bitch, Vegas. A motherfucking bitch.” He spat his words out as if he couldn’t get rid of them fast enough. Like they twisted in his gut and he needed them out to ease that pain.

“Who scares you?” I whispered, my heart beating wildly again. Nitro wasn’t a man who I thought would scare easily, if at all. When he’d thrown that question out there, I knew it was because someone did.

His chest rose and fell hard and fast. “My uncle had this man who did most of his training for him. Joseph would find the soldiers and then William would beat them into submission. He was ex-army and specialised in torture. He programmed us to respond to him with fear.” He stared at me while he talked, almost vacantly, and I could see how much his memories consumed him. How much they still owned him.

And then it hit me.

“Did you see William today?”

His heavy breaths filled the silence. He nodded. “I thought I was done with all that. Thought they had no control over me anymore. Turns out I was wrong about all of it.”

He let me go and I quickly reached for him, managing to hook my hand around his neck, stopping him from moving away from me. “But you fought back today?” His wounds told me that much.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t count for fucking much if simply being in William’s presence causes me to lose my shit.” His face contorted. “I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. I almost fucking threw up.” His voice was ragged, and I read all the things he wasn’t saying in between what he was saying. My strong man cracked that day and he couldn’t make sense of it.

I knew there was nothing I could say that would make this any better. No words would ease his torment. So I simply held my hand out to him and when he took it, I led him to my bedroom.

Lifting his shirt over his head, I pressed my mouth to his chest. He’d taken punches all over his body from what I could see, so my kisses were a whisper across his skin in an effort not to hurt him further. Though there was no wild abandon, my passion simmered deep.

Moving down his body, I undid the button on his jeans and lowered the zip. He hissed as I removed his pants. A moment later, he pulled me back up so our faces were close.

Running his finger down between my breasts, he said, “This looks good on you.”

I glanced down at his shirt I wore. “Yeah, it does. I’m keeping it.”

“Yeah, you should.” He took it off and threw it on the floor. “But you shouldn’t wear it often,” he added while he flicked my bra undone and removed it, too. His mouth closed over my breast and he sucked my nipple between his lips.

I loved the sight of Nitro’s head bent so he could suck and lick my breasts. Running my fingers through his hair, I moaned as he worked his way across to my other nipple. His tender touch was in stark contrast to his fury that I craved. But this other side of him was a side I could love just as much.

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