Page 132 of Lesson In Forgiveness

“Any light is good for me.”

Tabitha exhaled slowly, precisely, as she took one of his hands in hers. “My father was a bastard. Training and selling children made him a sadistic bastard, among many other things. You know what he did to me, you’ve had to deal with the aftermath of those years. You’ve met the woman he made me into, the one he shaped me into with beatings, rapes, and drugs. The one he shared with his friends because he could.”

Grit’s stance shifted, but he said nothing.

“I’ve blocked a lot of memories from that time, memories I didn’t even realize I’d repressed. A foolish mistake on my brain’s part,” she said ruefully. “Donaghue had specific intentions for me, aside from murdering Elias. It turns out that when he first moved to the US, he wanted a contract killer of his very own to do his dirty work. Even back then, Dominic had a reputation as the peddler to beat when it came to obedient little soldiers.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“He put on a private modeling session for Donaghue, parading the stock in front of him so he could take his pick. Apparently, his pick was me.” She reined in the shudder, the disgust that still lingered, and continued without a hitch in stride. “Dominic wouldn’t sell me; the price offered was too low. Donaghue couldn’t afford more, so he bought one of my brothers instead. Which one, I don’t know, but my guess is he’s dead if Donaghue stooped to scouring the dark web for murder-for-hire services.”

“Tabitha,” Grit whispered, his eyes softening with sympathy.

She shook her head, a silent reminder for him to just listen. “Dominic let Donaghue watch him fuck me, then decided to be generous to his new customer. Donaghue raped and sodomized me because I was nothing more than a commodity owned by one man, given to another.” She paused, trying to balance what Grit needed to know against what would hurt him. “I was ten years old.”

“Motherfucker.”

The snarl, so primal and possessive, gave her crazy side the opportunity to thrive. There was bloodlust in the sound, the dangerous edge of vengeance, and she loved it.

“Dominic was responsible for everything that was done to me; he and Rita went straight to hell with the weight of their sins chained to their ankles. I will never forgive him for the atrocities he performed, but along the way I’ve learned to forgive myself for my actions, the sins I committed at his behest.”

Grit opened his mouth, anger flashing in his eyes.

She planted two fingers on his lips, giving him a warning glare. “Shush. Getting shot three times didn’t erase the crazy, trust me. You taught me about lessons, Grit. The good kind. The healing kind. The lessons that take broken pieces of a soul and file off the sharp edges.” She squeezed his hand, needing him to comprehend what she said next. “What happened here was unfortunate. It was a culmination of fate and consequences. I didn’t think twice about throwing myself at Donaghue; not just because I wanted him dead, but because he had the audacity to point his gun at you.”

When Grit’s expression went blank, she smiled. “What, did you think I didn’t know you were behind me? I smelled you, Grit, over the stink of his cigarette. The hairs on my neck told me you were there even though I didn’t see you. I made my move because it was time to do so, and I was happy to die if it meant you didn’t. I died because a lifetime of murdering people took its toll; I was emotionally, physically, psychologically strung out. That was my escape.”

“Your escape?”

“I said shush. I’m not saying it was right or wrong, I’m telling you how I felt in that moment. My point is, there’s a lesson for you to learn right now. We can’t move on without it, so pull on your big boy boxers and start learning.”

A glimpse of the Grit she knew and loved made an appearance; first with the arch of an eyebrow, then with the baleful, dominant stare he pinned on her. “Is that an order, little tiger?”

“Well, duh.”

“I see.” The hand in hers flexed. “And what are you teaching me today?”

Tabitha didn’t back down, refusing to show submission. He wasn’t her Dom, not when he was like this, and she’d come to understand his dominance was part of why she loved him. “I thought we’d start with a lesson in forgiveness.”

Jaw clenching, he glowered at her.

“Don’t give me that look,” she admonished, feeling her ass tense. “Grief affects everyone differently. Mistakes were made on everyone’s part; because I’m a practical bitch, I see the bigger picture.” Running her thumb over the ridge of his knuckles, she shrugged. “We’re the bigger picture, Grit. Nothing else matters.”

“That’s a hard lesson,” he told her, pacing his words carefully. “I can’t promise it’ll happen overnight, Tabby, but I’ll work on it because I want that bigger picture too.”

“Well, I guess you deserve your reward then.” Nerves jangling worse than the first time she offed a target, Tabitha released his hand and slid two fingers under her dress, between her breasts. “Are these part of your bigger picture, Grit?”

His grunt of shock pleased her.

She held out the two thin silver rings on her palm. They were symbolic only, placeholders for the real deal. Choosing jewelry for herself had never been her thing, but she’d wanted something tangible for the moment—this moment—when she laid herself wide open.

“I love you. Never expected to, but then, you blew all my expectations out of the water. No other man will ever have my heart. No other man will ever touch me.” She thought she was babbling. It was so unlike her, she didn’t know where her stop button was. “I don’t want anyone but you. You’re it, you’re everything. I—”

“Before I say yes, little tiger, you should know I read the file Rita kept on you.” Grit grabbed her arms when she swayed. “There are no secrets about her part in it all, about the torture Dominic put you through. Maybe it was an invasion of your privacy, but you need to know that my answer is yes, unequivocally, because I can’t imagine being with anyone with more strength, courage, and heart.”

Okay, that was a wrench she wasn’t anticipating. Stunned, she blinked twice.

Rita had spent hours documenting damn near everything about a session—pulse, heart, lungs, sweat. Anything that could be analyzed was, and the results scribbled down in one of her fucking notebooks.

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