Page 25 of Filthy Secret

But truthfully, I believe it’s because I don’t trust him. This is huge. Adam is my son, and while I’m doing something wrong by not telling Atomic, I’m also protecting him and myself. There’s no reason he should ever forgive me for what I’ve done.

What I’ve taken from him.

What I’m not giving him when he’s so clearly giving me the option.

Tears flow as I wear myself out until I eventually pass out again.

I’m not sure how much sleep I get. It isn’t restful, I know that much. When my eyes open, I feel something heavy against my belly. Dipping my chin down carefully, I look at my stomach and find an arm there.

A heavy arm.

A heavily tattooed arm.

Reaching down, I try to take said arm off me, but it tightens around me, gently hauling me against him. I don’t know how he can be asleep and be so damn gentle. He doesn’t hurt me, not even a little, and that’s pretty amazing for someone whose body is one gigantic bruise.

Atomic grunts, then touches his lips to the side of my neck. “Mornin’, legs.”

“Atomic?” I exhale. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m not sleeping on the floor. Couch is taken, and honestly, where you are, I am.”

There is silence for a moment as, again, a tear slides down my cheek. I don’t know how I can cry any more tears. I don’t know how I have any left inside of me. I haven’t eaten. I haven’t had anything to drink. I’m sure I’m dehydrated as hell.

“You don’t hate me?” I ask on a whimper.

“Hate? No. Pissed as fuck? Yes. Do you have years to make up for what you did? Sure.”

“I don’t think I can make up for it, Atomic.” And I’m speaking about the truth and the lie all at once.

He hums, his lips touching my forehead before he speaks, his mouth staying there as he does. “You can, Ryan. You will.”

I’m not sure I want him, that I want this. But I don’t say that. He is protecting me, protecting our son. Ours. It feels weird to think of Adam as ours. I’ve always known that’s who he is, that he is Atomic’s son, but I’ve never allowed myself to truly believe we could share him. And I’m not really letting him share in this either, am I… not when I’m keeping the truth from him.

“Grover.”

I don’t understand what he’s said. “What?”

“My name,” he murmurs. “Grover Hughes.”

Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I try not to bite down too hard as I stare at him. “Grover Hughes,” I murmur. “I like it so much. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

I’m hurt that he didn’t trust me with his name. That he wouldn’t tell me the many times I asked. But what a hypocrite. Because I don’t trust him enough to give him my son now. He wanted me to be his woman, but he didn’t want to give me even that simple part of him. And I want to know why.

But I can’t ask him right now.

Selfishly, stupidly, I’m enjoying this with him. It’s been a long time since I shared a bed with this man—any man, really—and it feels amazing. Comfortable. Perfect.

Absolutely everything.

I knew I missed it, but I didn’t realize that I missed it this much. I feel like the missing pieces of my puzzled heart have been repaired. Too bad it won’t last because once I’m better, I know his anger is going to take over and he’ll never want anything to do with me again.

That guilt grows inside of me, curling and sliding up my throat, threatening to choke me. I should tell him the truth right now. I should tell him about Adam. The festering lie is just going to grow and consume me from the inside out.

But I can’t tell him.

Not yet.

CHAPTER

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