Page 79 of Disguised as Love

Raisa touched my shoulder, and I jerked away, coming back to the room in the safehouse instead of the faded gray and white of my mother’s bedroom in the house in Florida.

“Cruz?” she said my name like a question, concern in the softly whispered syllable.

I looked down into her brown eyes that had melted into the color of honeyed whiskey. Soft and worried. No fire, but no ice either.

I was a cliché. I was my parents’ life in reruns. I was making the same fucking mistake my father had. Anyone could have burst into the room while we’d been lost in each other. I wouldn’t have had time to get the gun I’d left in the kitchen. I wouldn’t have had time to shield her from the bullets that would have rained down.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She wrapped an arm around my waist from the side, and I stilled as heat scorched me like it did every single time we touched. She put her head on my bicep. “It’s okay. We’re okay. Nothing happened.”

My jaw ticked as I held back emotions stronger than I’d ever felt. Desire and regret twined together. Disgust that I had so easily become what I’d sworn I’d never be.

“It’s my job to keep you safe. Not fuck you,” I said quietly, and I felt her stiffen at my words. Words that I’d said on purpose. To make her angry. To push her away. And they worked, because she did step back.

“It’s not your job to protect me. Your job is to use me, isn’t it? And now, I’ve let you.”

She turned away, but her words only pissed me off. I grabbed her arm and whirled her back around.

“I told you to stop. I warned you.”

But when I took in her face, I realized she wasn’t angry at all. She was actually calm, and her lips were almost twitching.

“Feel better now?” she taunted.

“What?” Confusion circled through me.

“You’re blame-free, Cruz. This is all on me. I’m sorry it made you feel…sorry it reminded you of that night with your parents.”

No one, not even my mother, could read me like this woman. I’d told her one time in the flickering lights of a fire about that awful night, yet she’d read how it haunted me.

As I watched, she tugged on the sweats that engulfed her and then got into bed. She patted the space next to her.

“Nothing happened. We’re safe,” she repeated. “At least for tonight. Tomorrow, all hell might break loose, but we have now…this little breath before the storm.”

She was a goddamn masterpiece. A thundering sonata that ebbed and flowed beautifully over a page. Whatever had made her lose herself when we’d first entered the room was tucked away again. She was no longer standing in shock, immovable. She had a smile on her lips that I’d been the cause of, in addition to the gasps and moans I’d dragged from her with my fingers and tongue. Holy hell, that thought brought me right back to wanting her all over again.

But it couldn’t happen.

Wouldn’t.

I pulled on a sweatshirt from the drawer, grabbed the gun from where I’d left it on the counter by the tea kettle, and made my way to the bed. I was still shaking. From what had passed between us. From the memories of that night with my parents. From the fear that I wouldn’t be able to protect her or myself if I continued to let the emotions flying through me have free rein.

I lay on my side, facing the door, and she curled into me with her head on my chest and her feet tangled between my legs. God help me. It felt like home. One of my hands went around her waist, holding her to me, but the other went to the gun I’d slid under the pillow.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

I wracked my brain, trying to think what the hell I deserved to be thanked for. I’d done nothing but screw with her life since the moment I’d arrived on her doorstep. When I didn’t say anything, she filled my silence with more words. “For giving me what I needed even when it meant reliving your nightmares. You’re a good man, Cruz Malone.”

My throat clogged with emotions, and all I could do was pull her tighter against me. All I could do was hope I could pull a fucking rabbit out of a hat and magically get us all to safety.

Her limbs turned heavy as sleep found her, and I was glad I’d been able to give her enough sense of security to do so. I wasn’t sure I’d ever sleep again. I closed my eyes, sharpening my other senses. The wall heater banged to a halt, and in its absence, the noise of the carnival could be heard?music and the chatter of voices. I heard the scrape of footsteps from the apartment above and the way the boards creaked and groaned as the building came to rest.

In many ways, it reminded me even more of that awful night as I’d lain in my room, watching the shadows and listening to the sounds of the house. My dad had told me we had to be extra vigilant. But I’d heard their laughter as they’d gone into their bedroom. They hadn’t been watching. So, I had.

The groan of the stairs had caught my attention first, then a dark shadow had passed over the hallway window, casting a long narrow triangle along the wall. He’d already reached their door by the time I’d slipped quietly from my bed and into the hall behind him on bare feet. He’d already opened the door and raised the gun before I caught up to him. The sound of the shot had echoed through me, ringing my ears and causing panic to fill my veins.

The sharp crack of fireworks outside the safehouse had my eyes flicking open. Fireworks instead of gunshots. But it was enough to tighten my back and the hand on the gun that rested under the pillow. Raisa didn’t even budge at the sounds. It should have relieved me she was resting, but instead, it became fear that she’d be caught unawares.

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