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Daniel’s whole body turns to stone behind me. “He said that? Those words?” His sharp tone cuts through me.
Shit.I don’t want to answer, but I want to leave him waiting even less. “Yes,” I croak. “But he was just thinking of you. I’m okay,” I reassure him.
The temperature in the room drops, and it’s not from the steadily cooling bath water. I reach out and rub his knee, squeezing it in a way I hope conveys that I’m okay with Michael’s words, that I understand them.
The man is willing to take something away, to make a call no one else will in order to protect his brother. Who wouldn’t understand and respect that?
Daniel’s hand joins mine, our fingers interlacing over the skin of his thigh where he settles them. “You have two brothers and a sister now.” I feel the weight of his words sink in just as he adds, “You won’t ever be alone again, Charlotte.” Our chests rise and fall in sync as we just breathe, resting and relaxing away from the world, hiding in our own bubble.
“When did you first kill?” The question slips out into the quiet room, disturbing the peaceful energy.
At first, I don’t think he’ll answer. His hand dips into the water pooled at my hips, soaking the sponge in his hand. Raising it, he pours water over my chest, ripples of water wash over my skin.
“When I was eighteen.”
I wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. Soaping his hands, he rubs my shoulders with firm hands as he washes me.
Images of Daniel as a young boy float about my head, but after what I witnessed on Friday, I cannot imagine such a young man doing something so evil, not even him. “Why?”
“They deserved it.”
Again, Daniel doesn’t elaborate. My brow furrows, and my shoulders sag under his hands.
“Our parents,” he tells me, kissing the nape of my neck, “the ones before Helen and Christopher, they weren’t kind or loving. Our father would drink, get mean, and beat the shit out of whoever made the most noise.”
I swallow my response, not wanting to interrupt in fear of him stopping.
“One night, Michael cried too much. He was scared. Our father came for him in the night, but I was waiting. I was big, even then.” His hands gently wash me as he speaks, as if he can wash the words away with the soap. “I taunted him, egged him on. Said things I knew would make him forget about Michael. And he did.”
My tears roll out, hiding in the water dripping down from my hair.
“But it didn’t matter how big I was or how much I wanted to protect Michael. He was a forty-three-year-old grown man. I didn’t stand a chance.”
I lace my fingers with his and raise our hands to my chest, letting him feel the way my heart beats for him.
“He beat me so bad that my mother thought I was dead. I had a broken jaw, a fractured skull.”
Now I know why Michael would do anything for Daniel. He deserves it. His past actions demand loyalty.
“I don’t remember most of the beating, just the pain and his angry yells of what he would do to Michael if I ever talked back again.”
My mouth feels bone-dry, and sobs shake my chest. Who would do that to a child? Any child.
“It was a while before I could speak again anyway, but by the time I could, I found I didn’t want to. Michael accepted that and so did the Cromwells, our new family.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “Kaleb’s birth mother was a whore from a few towns over. She didn’t know who his father was and had no interest in feeding another mouth. They took him in a few years after us, but he’s not adopted. They couldn’t without his mother’s permission.”
Daniel’s fingers flex under mine.
“You’re a part of this family now.” Those words turn me on, or maybe it’s the way his tongue traces the shell of my ear.
Either way, I let the sensations roll over me and push my hips back into his.
Our exploits don’t go too far before shouting from downstairs penetrates our haze, and angry voices float up. Daniel is quick to react. Jumping from the bath, he rushes out ready to defend his family.
The thought shouldn’t make me clench the way that it does, shouldn’t make my heart ache for him. It shouldn’t make me love him more.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
Charlie
