Page 84 of Damaged

“Right, the air force.” We both fell quiet for a few minutes. I knew I should let Dalton sleep, but I was too wired. I’d spent the entire day being reunited with my immediate family members, though it had been short, awkward reunions. Only three of my five brothers had been at the house for the picnic which had turned out to be a celebration for my aunt and uncle’s twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. I’d been too overwhelmed to even ask where my other two brothers were.

There had also been several cousins, the sons and daughters of my father’s brother. Apparently the navy ran through the Lockwood family’s blood because like my father, my uncle and several of his children had or were serving in that part of the military.

Talking to my mom had been scary at first because I’d expected her to grill me about what had happened to me since I’d been abducted, but she hadn’t brought it or the ill-fated trip up even once. What she had done was bring out a half-dozen books she’d called scrapbooks. They’d included pictures of Aggie and me as babies along with little mementos she’d kept of us and all her children when they were young. There had even been a picture of Aggie and me doing cartwheels.

“I found out when my birthday is,” I said. Dalton’s attention was fully on me now. His fingers were toying with my hair. “It was a couple weeks ago. I turned twenty-three.”

“I’ll have to make up for missing it, then,” he said with a little smile.

“No, you don’t. You gave me my gift,” I responded. When Dalton looked at me in confusion, I added, “It was on the day we made love for the first time. Really made love.”

“Hmmm,” Dalton said. “That was a really good gift. Maybe I should make that my birthday too.”

I could tell he was joking. I could also tell he was holding something back. He was saying all the right things and yes, he was tired, but still… there was just something off about him.

“I like that idea,” I said. “And we’ll have to celebrate every year the same way. Promise me we’ll do that.”

“I ripped my apron,” Dalton said smoothly.

The fact that he wasn’t promising me anything made my chest tighten painfully. Was he expecting us not to spend that day together? That we wouldn’t be together in a year?

“Dalton—”

“I’m wiped, sweetheart. Can we talk about this tomorrow?” Dalton asked before doing something he’d never done to me whenever we’d been in the same bed.

He turned over so he wasn’t facing me. There was no touching, no pulling me against his body, no gentle kiss against my forehead as I drifted off.

It felt like my heart was being cleaved in two.

“You said you’d never let me go,” I whispered. “Did I do something?—”

“No, of course not,” Dalton said, but he didn’t turn over. “I’m just tired.”

“Tired, my ass,” I snapped. “You’re either the best actor on the planet or you’re the biggest asshole on it for doing this to me.”

That got his attention. I was far from done, though. The second Dalton turned over, I straddled him.

“Silver—” he began as he tried to push me off him. I pinned his wrists to the bed like he’d done so often to me.

“Silver,” he repeated angrily. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He started to tug his hands free of my hold.

“Then don’t,” I growled. “We both know you would never hurt me physically,” I added as I tightened my grip on his wrists. Not surprisingly, Dalton didn’t try to move his hands again. A mask of disinterest fell across his features.

It hurt like hell but not enough to change my course.

“I love you, Dalton. With everything I am. My love doesn’t come with strings. It doesn’t come with conditions. It doesn’t change just because I found my family. We’re family. You and me. We’re each other’s home. Not your house, not this boat. You. You are and always will be my home. Your problems are my problems just like mine are yours. We hang on to each other. That’s what we do. That’s who we are.” I couldn’t help the little sob that escaped my throat as I spoke.

“We don’t leave each other,” I croaked because his expression hadn’t changed. I released his hands. “If you want to hurt me, Dalton, do it now because I will not spend even one second wondering if your love was only real when I didn’t know who my parents were or where I came from or all the shit I’ve been through or what day my fucking birth?—”

Before I could even finish the word, Dalton grabbed my waist.

But not to shove me aside.

“No,” he growled and then I was on my back and his big body was pressing me into the mattress. His mouth slammed down on mine, but the kiss was gentle and deep. It was sending a message that Dalton couldn’t say out loud yet. When it ended, I could barely breathe, but it didn’t matter because I wasn’t the one who got to talk anyway.

“My love for you is real. It has been and always will be,” Dalton said, fire raging in his eyes.

He kissed me again. The whisper-soft kisses that were everything to me.

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