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“Who hurt you, buttercup?” he asks, cutting through the silence like his blade sliced through my skin.
A lone tear rolls down my cheek. “Someone who should have protected me.”
His arms band tighter around me. “Did what we just did help?”
“It did, yeah. Kind of cathartic. Is that strange?”
“Not at all. But where is he now? The man who hurt you?”
I almost tell him the truth. It wants to pour out of me like syrup from a jug, slow and deliberate. But I can’t. “He no longer exists in the life I’ve built for myself.” Before he can question me further on my vague answer, I add, “Who hurt you, Zeke?”
“Someone who should have known better.” He lets out a deep sigh, and I think that’s going to be the end of the conversation, but he keeps talking. “He was my foster brother and the first guy I ever loved. At least I thought I loved him, but I had no idea what that really meant back then. He was nineteen, and I thought the sun rose and set with him.” He gives a self-deprecating laugh.
“How old were you?”
“Fourteen.”
My heart breaks for a young adolescent Zeke. “What happened?”
“Turns out he was just experimenting.” He snorts. “With his sexuality. With his fetish for cutting things open. People get kind of freaked out when their kids start slicing open their family pets, not so much when it’s just the new foster kid.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Don’t be, buttercup. I moved to a new foster home and met West and Fitch, and I made a promise that no one would ever fucking touch me or hurt me again unless I wanted them to.”
I flex my fingertips, feeling the ridges of scars hidden under his beautiful tattoos. I hate that someone hurt him that way. “Thank you for letting me touch you.”
He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger and angles my head so he can look at my face. “It takes a whole lot of trust to allow someone to slice you open with a knife. Thank you for giving me that.”
I love him so much. “It was beautiful. Thank you.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he stares at me intently, like there’s something he wants to say but can’t. Or won’t.
My stomach growls, and I wrinkle my nose. “You mind if we grab a bite to eat?”
He drops a tender kiss on my forehead. “Whatever my girl needs.”
ChapterThirty-Five
WEST
“Iknow what it means, Mason, just get it done.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I want all the paperwork complete by the fifth. We go live on the sixth.”
“Okay, West. I’ll have it pushed through.”
“Thank you.” Sighing, I hang up. Merging three media companies into one conglomerate is turning out to be a way bigger headache than I anticipated.
“You okay there, buddy? You need a little relief?” Zeke asks with a wicked grin. He’s so much more relaxed now that Lily’s in our life. Whatever happened between them the night before last changed them both. I saw the wound over her ribcage, so I know he cut her, and it seems like it brought them closer together.
I should get her over here and make her work from my office all day every day. Have her at my disposal so she can offer me some of that relief Zeke’s hinting at whenever the fuck I like.
Instead, I arch an eyebrow at Zeke. “Are you offering?”
He tilts his head, his eyes roaming over my body. “I could give you something, but probably not what you’re looking for right now.”
“Mr. Archer.” My secretary’s voice fills the room via the intercom on my desk. “You have a visitor.”
I check my watch. I’m not expecting anyone, but my heart rate kicks up a notch. Please be Lily. I press the button to answer. “Who is it?”
