Page 42 of Ruthless Savior


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When the chore was finished, he reached into his pocket and drew out a watch. He must’ve stored it there to protect it while we were cooking.

As he buckled it securely around his wrist, a sizzling lightning bolt lanced my gut. I recognized the scuffed band and dully gleaming white stones around the scratched glass face. This was the watch I’d stolen from him when I’d fled from Stefano’s fortress; the one I’d pawned for a paltry sum to cover my bus ticket to Juárez.

“You found it.” The surprised remark left my lips without thought, little more than a breathless whisper. A gaping hole seemed to have been burned through my stomach, spreading slowly as guilt ate away at my insides.

His eyes glinted like hard, polished jade when they met mine, devoid of the warm light that I’d been basking in only minutes ago.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, dropping my gaze. I was apologizing for so much more than theft. He’d said he forgave me for my betrayal, but his sudden iciness indicated that he hadn’t forgotten.

How could I expect anything different? I’d put his life at risk and left him for dead. No matter how my worry for him had tormented me, that didn’t negate what I’d done.

He sucked in a deep breath, and when he finally spoke, his tone was calm, if a bit brusque. “I said the topic of your escape is closed. That includes discussions of what happened in the past. I got my watch back, and you’re safely here with me. That’s what matters.” His lowered cadence on the last indicated that he was speaking as much to himself as he was to me.

I peek up at him. His face was fixed in hard, stony planes, but his scowl had eased.

“I’m glad you got it back.” My voice was small, but I meant every word. “It must be very important to you.”

His softening gaze remained fixed on me, but his fingers traced the scratches scored into the watch face before rubbing the tiny cavity where the fourth stone should’ve been set at nine o’clock.

“Yes,” he agreed in a monotone. “It was my stepfather’s.”

My shoulders slumped, and I shrank beneath the weight of my regret. “Oh. I’m sorry,” I repeated. “You must’ve been very close.”

His scowl returned, twisting his harsh features into an unnerving mask. The only thing that prevented me from shrinking away was the fact that his gaze focused inward rather than piercing my skull.

“We weren’t.” His rebuttal dripped acid. “This isn’t a remembrance of him. It’s a reminder of what I am.”

Dread churned my stomach, but a shaky question left my lips of its own accord. “What does that mean? What are you?”

“Ruthless. Powerful. Untouchable.” His fists furled at his sides, and this time, I did step back. He didn’t seem to notice, still focused on something I couldn’t see.

After several seconds of tense silence, my thundering heartbeat slowed. His huge body practically vibrated with unspent aggression, but his unfocused eyes blazed, as though he was speaking his most fervent, deeply held belief aloud. As though by putting his truth out into the universe, he made it real.

A pang lanced my heart. Despite his ferocity, I sensed his pain.

Could the goodness I saw in him be the real man, and the evil was simply a protective mask?

I’d been wrong about Gehovany. I’d been burned by my naivete before.

But I found myself reaching for Raúl, my fingers tentatively brushing over his corded forearm. His muscles danced beneath my touch before a small shudder rolled through his body.

He blinked, and his gaze found mine. His luminous eyes widened with something like awe, and he lifted his hand to my cheek. Just before his palm made contact, he hesitated. His brows drew together, and I knew he was doubting his ability to be careful with me. This afternoon in the woods, I’d experienced how harsh he could become when volatile emotions overtook him.

Drawn to soothe him, I turned my face into his palm and rested my hand atop his, holding it against my cheek.

He drew in a deep, shaky breath, and the last of the tension drained from his rough-hewn features.

“Marisol.” He rasped my name, and his free hand cupped my nape.

He stared down at me as though I was the most precious treasure in the world, and I melted into him, utterly intoxicated by the tenderness of this fierce, ruthless man. When he lowered his lips to mine, I welcomed him on a sigh, marveling at the complete contentment I found in his strong arms.

Chapter 15

Marisol

“Stay inside the bedroom!” My father’s voice cracked on the panicked command. His weather-beaten cheeks were pale, and the warm, molten chocolate tone of his eyes had been swallowed by the blackness of his dilated pupils.

Boom! The front door rattled on its hinges, and the wooden barrier that separated us seemed far too flimsy to withstand Gehovany’s assault.

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