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“There are some things that I have to tell you,” I say turning my head back toward her.
“Okay. I’m listening.”
“There’s a lot that you don’t know about me. I need you to believe that the reason I haven’t been totally straightforward was to protect you.”
Her eyes search mine, but she lets me continue.
“I haven’t been honest about who I am. It was selfish of me to start this thing with you. You weren’t completely aware of what you were stepping into. And now…” I shake my head and run a hand roughly through my hair. I know that she’s in danger, but I can’t bring myself to say it out loud at the moment. It makes it real. And I don’t want it to be real. “This is all my fault and I want you to know how sorry I am. I fucked up.”
“Gage,” she reaches across the space between us and takes my hand, “I knew exactly what I was getting into. What on earth are you talking about?”
“No, you didn’t,” I shake my head even harder and can’t bear to look her in the eye, so I focus on our joined hands. Her soft tan skin collides with my callused fingers as I rub my thumb back and forth on her palm and squeeze like it’s the last time I’ll get to.
“Whatever it is that you didn’t tell me at first, you can tell me now. I never expected you to reveal every little thing about your life to me. This, us,” she squeezes my hand back until I look up at her, “It’s not what it was three weeks ago. It’s more. And if there are things you wish you had said, say them now. Because I want to know, Gage. I care about you.”
“You care about me,” I repeat her words just so I can hear them out loud again. My rib cage feels like it’s collapsing in on itself.
“Yes,” she breathes out. She stands, keeping my hand in hers and pulling me up with her. Her arms circle around my waist and time stops still when she places her cheek on my chest. I rest my chin on the top of her head and hold her.
She tilts her head up to look at me and I lean down and kiss her on the lips. It’s tense, given the current situation. But her body melts against me and I breathe her in with everything that I have. I’m trying to say so much more with this kiss than I ever have. I don’t want it to end, but I pull away from her lips.
“I more than care about you, Blythe.”
She smiles and leans her head back on my chest. Hugging me tighter. I bring a hand up to the back of her head to keep it in place. I can’t let her move away from me.
I hate how perfect this feels. My heart beats steady and calm like it can finally function properly with her in my arms. Now that she’s not staring straight through me, it’s easier to blurt it all out in one soft breath.
“There’s a group of men, enemies of my father, that plan to kill me to get back at him. I had nothing to do with the reason that they’re at war, but they’re after me to bend him to their will. They’re ruthless and have no hesitation when it comes to hurting people to get what they want. They have pictures of you and me together. You’re not safe with me.”
The last part comes out like slow-flowing lava. A burning truth that nothing can stop. My confession makes her go completely still, and I can feel every part of her harden like a statue.
“I think I misheard you. I thought you said kill,” she whispers.
“I know it’s a shock. I—”
She lifts her head abruptly and looks up at me. “Wait. You’re serious?”
I press my lips together and nod.
“My father is not a good person. My family… they’re greedy and dangerous and it’s why I left New York City to buy this ranch and get away from all of that. It’s not who I wanted to be.”
Her eyes slam shut and her cringe is so visceral that her nose wrinkles up and the color drains from her face. I move my hand to cup her jaw, but she doesn’t lean into it. “Buy… this ranch? You don’t work here? You… you…” she’s stuttering and shaking her head in disbelief when my time of getting to explain this all to her in private is cut short.
The front door opens as Warren and Tripp walk in, brushing their dirty boots back and forth on the rug before walking into the living room. I try conjuring up an excuse as to why I’m holding his sister like we’re not just friends, but Warren doesn’t look surprised in the least. He strolls right past us and sits on the couch like there’s nothing out of the ordinary. I lift my head slowly, studying his expression.
“I told him about us,” Blythe reveals. And then she does the worst thing in the world and pulls away from me without even giving me a glance or a response to what I just admitted to her.
I pride myself on being able to easily read people, but she’s not giving anything away at the moment. She sits between Warren and Tripp, crosses her legs, and looks up at me with no obvious emotion.
Tripp lets out a low-pitched whistle. “The fuck is going on here? Somebody die or what?”
Blythe covers her mouth and the dam finally breaks. She tries to close her eyes, but the tears beat her to it and find their way to the apples of her cheeks, spilling down over the rest of her face. She’s full-on sobbing within seconds, and Warren wraps an arm around her while shooting me an accusing“what’d you do?”look.
“Hey,” he soothes her in a hushed voice. “You okay?”
“Obviously not,” Tripp scoffs.
Heston smacks him on the back of the head as he rounds the couch. He doesn’t sit down though. Just places his feet wide apart, crosses his arms, and looks at me.
