Page 72 of Don't Let Go

I yanked my hand out of his and I slapped his shoulder. That still hurt but not as bad as my knuckles had. “It’s not funny. I couldn’thelpyou. I didn’t know what was happening and all I could do waswaitand when I finally couldn’t wait anymore, you were already hurt.”

The fleeting smile on his face registered as he caught my hand, but he sobered. “Sugar Bear—Fallon.” It was the command on my name that quieted the emotion that was boiling up again. “I was fine. I knew what I was doing. I’m sorry I didn’t give you more warning. You’re right, I should have. Hell… I could have probably taken you in with me.”

That…thathelped. “But you didn’t.”

“No,” he said slowly. “I didn’t. Because Stone is an ugly part of my past. He’s fucking crazy. The worst kind, because he’s a damn true believer of his idiocy. Fanatical. I didn’t want him anywhere near you, not even second hand.”

I swallowed around another lump. “But I can’t protect you if I’m not there and I’m not going to judge you by the people in your past. I worked for them, remember?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, his voice deepening again. “I know you did and I know they hurt you. You didn’t know you were working for them. The trouble is, I saw the problem. It took me time to put distance between me and them, but I did know. I just walked away instead of fixing it.”

The tangle of emotion housed in those words trapped me.

“I didn’t do anything to stop it, Sugar Bear. If I had…maybe you would never have been dragged into all of this. Maybe… maybe you would have been safe. That’s… that’s on me. I should have done something. I didn’t then, I am now.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t know you right now,” I pointed out. “Or Locke or Remy.”

He grumbled. “I don’t care about them so much.”

“Yes you do,” I countered. “You like baiting them and fighting with them.”

“Don’t tell them that,” he ordered, not denying it.

“I won’t,” I said. “Your secrets are always safe with me.”

He fisted my hair suddenly and his gaze pinned mine. “I know they are, but you need to understand I’m always going to choose you. You first. You need to be safe. Nothing else is as important as that and if I have to burn the whole fucking operation down, and my father with it, I will. You matter more than anything.”

“Together,” I said, trying to not face the depth of that confession or what it did to me. “We do this together, John. We have to. I know there are things that I don’t remember… I am seeing some of it. Images. Feelings. They’re right there, like on the tip of my tongue and then they slip away. But secrets and lies, they destroy everything they touch. You can’t do this without me. If you cut me out—I’ll leave.”

I met him glare for glare.

It wasn’t an empty threat.

“We do this together,” I told him. “That means I’m with you. Every step of the way. You want to put me first, that means you have to let me help. Because it hurts too damn much to be left out and if anything happened to you…”

My stomach dropped. It made me sick to even think about it. But I held his fierce stare and then he dragged me forward and kissed me. The hard pressure of his mouth on mine demanded aresponse and I bit down on his lip before he thrust his tongue at mine. He tugged my head back.

This wasn’t a duel or a fight. This wasn’t even a battle of wills. It was passion, pure, hot, and blinding.

“Goddamn it,” he whispered against my lips. “You’re not going to take no for an answer.”

“No,” I told him. “To any part of this. I want you. I want to be there… I’m in or I’m out. Which is it?”

My lips tingled, my heart hammered, and the tears that had slid free earlier dried under the ferocious heat pouring off him.

“In,” he snarled and then he flipped me around until I was on the bed and he was over me. I didn’t even know when we made it here or where the guys were.

I didn’t care right now either, because John pounced and he blotted out the rest of the world.

Chapter

Twenty-Five

PATCH

Aknife slid up the inside of my sweatshirt and split the fabric in two. I blinked a little stupidly at the gleaming blade then up at John’s intent expression.

“You’re cutting my shirt?” Granted, the answer was likely obvious, but I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around it.

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