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The anger was masking his fear. I got it then, and everything calmed in me. “Hey.” I went to him, putting a hand to his arm, stopping him. “Hey,” I said it more gently, reaching up, framing his face. “I’m fine.” My thumb smoothed over his cheek, and his chest rose up in a ragged breath. His hand caught mine, and he held it in his, intertwining our fingers.
He was calming a little. “Jesus.” He moved in, taking me into his arms. “Fuck. You’re gorgeous.”
I tried to smile, but I couldn’t. A part of me felt at peace, being near him again, feeling his touch, but the other part was torn to pieces. He was leaving me. “Well, there’s a dance that I helped plan. I figured I should enjoy it despite the fact that my date dumped me.”
The corner of his mouth tugged up into a half-grin, but it didn’t make it to his eyes. They were still wild, almost feral. He leaned down, letting his forehead rest on mine. “If he’d touched you or hurt you, I couldn’t have lived with that. You have no idea.”
“I heard it all, Scout. I do know.”
He tensed, but he didn’t move back. Thank goodness.
“You were going to leave?”
Tenser. He half-growled, but he never lifted his forehead. “I have to. Didn’t you hear him? He’s got my mom under this thumb. She’s so brainwashed by him, and she keeps going back to try to earn his approval. It’s sickening. He has so much control over her.”
“And you? What would he do to you?”
He started to pull away.
“No.” I dug in. “Stay.”
He did, but his chest was a frozen wall. “You don’t know these kind of people. You go into their world, and if you think you can get out unscathed, you’re kidding yourself. They’re not like your dad’s killer and his family. That family’s like kittens compared to mine.”
“Why are you going now?”
He lifted his head, his gaze holding mine. He was haunted. “Because my mom showed up with bruises. He put actual hands on her.”
He began to step back. My hands curled into fists, holding onto him. “So she can go to the police?”
“My grandfather owns the police. He owns the FBI. You don’t get how much power he has. Think the illuminati. If they were real, he’d be a member. And my mom won’t say anything. He’s been brainwashing her since she was born. It’s over. I can’t let him keep hurting her.”
“He said it was her or me.”
A tenderness came over him, softening around his eyes, his mouth. His eyes were warm. His hand moved to cup the back of my head. “I won’t let him hurt either of you.”
I started shaking my head.
“Hey. Hey.” He moved back in, his chest against mine. He framed both sides of my face. His thumbs smoothed out over my cheeks, lingering on my jaw. “I want to be with you tonight.”
“No, Scout.” Not just tonight. I knew that was what he meant.
“Yes.” His thumbs moved over my cheeks again before one hand lifted, tucking some of my hair behind my ear. A single strand. “I didn’t come here because I knew you were with him. Cohen mentioned the hotel, and I knew this was him. It’s our family’s hotel. He’d made his second move, like I said he would. I got here, tore up to this floor. It’s where he always stays at every Chelton, and then I heard your voice inside. I was terrified of what he could’ve done to you. Knew it then. Wanted to kick myself for not knowing it earlier, but I should’ve known. But you hated me, so I had to hate you back.”
“What?” I whispered, confused. “What are you talking about?”
He cupped both sides of my face, bending down to me. His eyes so solemn, so grave, so serious, and all seeing inside of me.
I… I didn’t know what was going on.
“I love you.”
What?
He grinned, almost sad, but so beautifully. “I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. I just didn’t know.”
“What?” I couldn’t talk. Was he…
“I didn’t know I could love someone.” He shook his head, his eyes raking over my face as if he needed to memorize every inch of me. “But I did. I do. You’ve told me you were broken, but I was too. I was broken before you. Feel like I’ve only been broken. Then you came here, and I didn’t know what hit me. Still don’t. You bulldozed over me. All of this is new to me, but I love you, Ramsay. Fucking completely. It’s your fault. You made me fall for you.”
A small laugh left me, but it hurt. “You’re blaming me?”
He loved me?
My chest rose, filling with hope. With warmth.
With love.
I loved him too.
“Yeah. On that one, I am. If you hadn’t hated me . . .” he teased, his eyes haunted.
