Page 72 of Ruthless Savior


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“I was arrested because my bastard stepfather set me up. He and my mother got together when I was a toddler. They started a family—a real family; a good family. I was the demon that they allowed to live in their house, taking up their valuable resources and ruining their perfect happily-ever-after bullshit.

“When mom got pregnant with their third child, there wasn’t room in the house for me anymore. My stepfather finally grew the balls to defend his family. He made a plan to drive the evil out of their home. He had friends on the police force. They arranged a raid on our house and planted cocaine in my bedroom. My stepfather told them I’d been dealing, and his cop buddies made sure the charges stuck.”

I rubbed my thumb over the watch, tracing the scratches scored into the glass. “I only went back to that house once after I got out of lockup. I went back to prove to them that I was exactly what they’d always said I was: evil, dangerous. Once I kicked my stepfather’s teeth in, he got the message. He never dared to fuck with me again.”

Marisol was silent for a moment, eyeing the way I was touching the watch.

“You told me that’s your stepfather’s watch. You told me that you wear it to remind you of who you are.”

“Now you’re finally getting it.” My lips split in what was meant to be a mocking grin, but the knifing pain in my chest twisted it into a grimace.

“You said it reminds you that you’re powerful. That you’re untouchable. That’s not evil, Raúl. You were an abused child. Your family hurt you in ways I can’t even imagine. All because of something you had no control over. Whatever your biological father did to your mother, it wasn’t your fault. I know the pain she must have gone through, but that doesn’t excuse how she treated you. His cruelty has nothing to do with you. You aren’t like him.”

“I’m exactly like him!” I flung the truth at her like a dagger. “Open your eyes, Marisol. I brought you into my home, and I’ve trapped you here against your will. I wanted you all to myself, so I kept you. I used you for my perverted pleasures, and I’ve reveled in my victories over you.” My litany of sins took on a fevered rasp. “I shackled you down and beat you while you screamed. And I loved every second of your suffering. You resisted me for so long, but I finally took what I wanted. I fucked you, and I planned to keep on using you. I never had any intention of letting you go.”

The evil inside me oozed through my veins, poisoning every inch of my being. Until I’d captured Marisol, I’d had one line I wouldn’t cross, but the inevitable had finally happened. It’d been stupid to resist this single, most essential part of my true nature when I’d always known there was nothing that I could do to change what was in my blood.

“I am just like my father.” The pronouncement was flat and cold, devoid of humanity. There was no point pretending. Not anymore.

“No.” Marisol’s horrified whisper twisted the knife in my heart.

I tipped my head back, staring up at the dark ceiling to avoid looking into her expressive eyes.

“Raúl, no.” She spoke more forcefully. “That’s not how it is between us. You didn’t rape me. Please, look at me.”

Her pained plea compelled my compliance, and I found myself dragged deep into the warm, dark pools of her eyes.

“My reaction to the birth control shot was about my own demons, not you. I thought my chance to have children—the big family I’d always envisioned when I lived in Comitán—died when I chose to flee from my home. I thought I’d carved that dream out of my heart, but it turns out it’s still there.”

She placed a hand on my forearm, testing my receptiveness to her touch. My muscles bunched under her fragile fingers, but I didn’t pull away.

“I’ve learned to feel safe with you. I’ve found happiness with you; something I thought I’d never experience again. I want a future with you, but until today, I hadn’t thought about the possibility of having children. The birth control shot stirred up my grief for the life I left behind. Hearing you say that the door was still closed forever triggered the agony of that loss.”

She leaned closer and placed her palms on my cheeks, holding me without tentativeness or hesitation. Her gentle heat sank into my skin, a warm light that pushed back the darkness in my mind with the inevitability of the dawn.

My brain blanked, soothed to a purely sensory level where my words weren’t necessary. I didn’t have to scrape together an argument to refute Marisol. I didn’t have to say anything at all. She knew me in ways I didn’t even know myself, and I was greedy for her to fill my mind with her soft reassurances. I welcomed her sweet truths to sink into my soul, taking root amongst my darkest beliefs about myself.

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