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“I want a baby who’s going to be allowed to be born, Rage. I want a healthy child who’s going to have all the love I can give her. I want—” My voice cracks. “I want to be able to be a mother to my baby, and I want her to know her father too.”
I swipe at the tear careening down my cheek. I don’t want him to see me falling apart. It’s a weakness I can’t afford to show, but I’m so rung out, so tired, I can’t control myself.
Rage stands from the bed, and every inch of me stiffens as I wait to see what he will do. He crosses the carpet, crouching down in front of me, his eyes scanning my face. “If you’re not lying and you truly came here for my help—not for your father’s gain—then I promise you, no one will take this baby from you.”
I shouldn’t, but I believe him. The sincerity in his words isn’t feigned, and when he reaches out and captures one of my tears before it slides down my cheek, I freeze. I like how his hands feel on me. I like the feeling of being touched, even if it is by a man I barely know.
“I will hold you to that,” I warn him. “Because at some point, my father is going to discover what I did to get here and he’s not going to forgive it. Trust me when I tell you he’s going to destroy everything in his path to find me.”
His fingers pause on my skin, but he doesn’t move away. I focus on the little dimple between his eyes, trying not to think about the hell I’ve brought to him and his club. My father won’t care that my baby is his enemy’s blood. He’ll care that I killed one of his men and the daughter of one of his prominent soldiers. He’ll care that I’ve embarrassed him by being here.
“What did you do, Skye?” His voice is soft, soothing, and without reproach. It won’t remain that way, but I let myself soak it in for a moment longer than I should.
Then I swallow down the bile collecting in the back of my throat and pluck up the courage to give him the words that have haunted me from the moment I left the house.
The words stick in my throat like glass shards, tearing at the soft flesh of my windpipe.
“Skye? Talk to me.”
It’s now or never. If I don’t tell him and it comes out later, I will destroy any trust I build between us. There can be no lies, no doubts either. I have to be completely honest with him.
Taking a shaky breath, I meet his gaze, then I drop the bombshell I’ve been holding inside me.
“I…” The pause nearly undoes me, and I have force myself to keep talking before I bottle it. I savour the look on his face, the concern and the need to help me, before I rip the plaster off savagely. “I killed them.”
CHAPTER4
RAGE
Skye’s admission nearly knocks me off my feet. Who the fuck did she kill? She’s not exactly built to murder. She’s not petite, but she ain’t pushing over five-foot-six either.
The thought of her locked in a battle to survive turns my stomach into puree. I can’t bear it, though I don’t know why. She’s right when she says we’re no one to each other, but something has changed between us. Knowing she’s having my baby has awoken some primal instinct within me to protect her and that child.
I’m already scared of the lines I might cross for them, but this is the right thing to do. I’ll never be Trick. I’ll never walk away from my son or daughter.
My mind is already in overdrive, coming up with plans to ensure Skye’s safety if Richardson comes for her. How can I keep her hidden? Would her own father actually kill her? How far would I go to protect them?
“I didn’t want to do it,” she rambles, bringing me back to the conversation, “but I had to get out of that room. Scarlett… she was never going to let me leave.”
“That’s who you killed?”
She chews on her bottom lip before admitting, “And the guard. He was trying to stop me, and I couldn’t fight him physically. He was too strong, so I… I used the car.”
The last part is whispered. I can see how ashamed she is by her actions. Death ain’t something I worry about. I’ve watched the light fade in many eyes over the years and I’ve never felt a hint of remorse for that. Death is inevitable—when it comes depends on the person. If someone gets in my way, I’ll end them.
“You did the right thing,” I assure her.
Her eyes snap to mine, and I see the dismay mix with her anger. “No, I didn’t. Killing people is not right, Rage. The fact you’re not even fazed by what I’ve done honestly scares me.”
She should be scared. She’s sitting in the middle of a hornet’s nest.
“This is who I am,” I tell her. “And I’m not sorry they’re dead because that means you’re not.”
Her bottom lip wobbles as she tries to control herself. “I can’t just switch it off like you.” She ducks her head, gripping the edge of the sofa. “I’ve never hurt anyone like that before.”
And if I have my way, she’ll never be in that position again.
A knock on the door stops my response, and I curse whoever the fuck is on the other side. The interruptions are fucking annoying.
