Page 51 of Be My Sacrifice

“NO! I’m fucking done! You two need to stop this shit now. There are more important things at stake than your overbearing, bruised egos. I have to find Sammy and Gabriel’s son. I don’t have time to waste with this shit. If you can’t see that, can’t realize how urgent the situation we are in is, then get the fuck out!”

“How can you just forgive him, Atasi? Have you forgotten what he did to you?” Abe shouts, his face red with emotion as both he and Zeke stumble off the floor, both of them giving each other a wide berth.

“He can help us get to Sammy, Abe. I need to find Sammy before Noah kills him. That is all that matters.” I’m so tired and overwhelmed. It feels like my head is ready to explode with all that is being demanded of me.

My heart calls out for the man who is missing, the man who is my soulmate, who would never leave me and might go to his death because of me. He might die, all because I wanted my vengeance on the Brotherhood.I did this. I was the cause of all of this. We were happy in our own little world before the Brotherhood pulled me back into theirs.

“He almost killed you, Dinah!” Abe grabs my biceps and shakes me, his breathing harsh in the now silent room.

“He did it to saveyou, Abe. It was always you. He loves you more than anyone else. More than me and more than himself. It was always about saving you.“ I push away from his grasp, completely done with this shit. Let them kill each other over whatever misunderstanding each is feeling. I will take my rebel troops, and go save Sammy without their help.

Sadness crosses Abe’s face as I pull away from him, and head towards the door. I glance at Zeke from the side of my eye, and watch as he stares with longing at Abe.Fools. The two of them are love-sick fools.

“I pray you know what you’re doing, Dinah,” Abe’s voice sounds quietly in the silent room. I can hear the dejection he feels in his tone.

“Save your prayers. I’m not the one who needs them.” I don’t bother to look back as I leave the two of them, to figure out their shit or kill each other. Either way, I am done with the whole situation.

Chapter thirty-three

The Protector

Sammy

“Youhavealittlesomething right there.” I point at the side of her mouth, smeared with purple fruit jam, as she sits at our humble wooden kitchen table, eating breakfast. She is wearing one of my loose shirts and a pair of sweatpants I got her at an underground salvage fair, and she looks stunning and comfortable. She could make rags look like fine clothing. She’s so beautiful.

The urge to slip my tongue out and lick that spot right off her face almost causes me to move closer to her. I clench my hands tightly at my sides and force myself to remain where I am. She’s not mine. She’s my charge, and I can’t just do shit like that, no matter how much I want to. No matter how much my body hums with a need for her, every moment of the day, and every sleepless minute of the night. I’m her fucking guard, tasked with keeping her safe, even if it’s from myself.

She’s a sinful temptation that I need to stay away from. A priceless jewel not meant for a lowly man like me. She’s meant for a prince of the Brotherhood, some spoiled fucking brat who will never know her worth. A fucker who will never realize the fire and true strength that she hides within herself, and never appreciates the beauty that she is, and not just surface deep. I refuse to take advantage of her innocence, and be another villain in her story. She has had enough of those already.

She raises her fingers to her beautiful, pale face but doesn’t reach the spot. Her look of embarrassment is endearing, and I watch, captivated, as a shy pink stain flushes across her high cheekbones. She bites down on that plump bottom lip, her teeth worrying at it, which has a recurring role in all my naughty dreams about her.

Fuck, I can feel my cock hardening in my pants, I need to calm my shit down, this can’t happen. I’m a grown-ass man with responsibilities, and I can’t just give in to my urges. I turn my body away from her, before I shock her with how much she turns me on. I grab a dish towel from the counter behind me and throw it on the table next to her.

Instead of wiping at her face, as I had intended when I gave her the cloth, the little temptress rises gracefully from the table with it clasped in her delicate fingers, and moves slowly toward me. Her dark gray eyes, with specks of moonlight blue, never leave mine, as she straightens her spine, and a determined look crosses her features.

Uh-oh, that’s never a good sign when she gets that look in her eyes. It usually means she’s going to convince me to do something we both know we shouldn’t, and is most likely forbidden. Like most recently, when she decided she wanted to learn how to use a bow and arrow, and track prey through the woods like a hunter. I can’t say I was shocked at that request; my little Dinah never ceases to amaze me.

“What, are you scared of me now, Sammy? You can’t help a lady wipe her face?” Her mischievous eyes tease me with their playfulness, and for a moment, I am so proud of how she can still be so alive and vibrant, with everything she has already suffered in her short life.

Dinah at nineteen is something amazing to behold. She’s outgrown the cuteness and innocence of her youth, and the seasons of her womanhood have made purchase, and are beginning to bloom. I am a lucky bastard who gets to witness the transformation and her coming into her own. That teasing light seems to grow brighter as she makes her way to me, the edge of the cloth swaying in her grip.

Fuck. My throat becomes parched at the seductive way she moves, unable to rip my eyes away from her, or even do what I know is required of me. Right now, I should be turning away from her, shrugging this all off as her being a brat, and wanting an experience. Rather than the need I think I see within the depths of those eyes, which are my favorite colors. She gives off a combination of sin, innocence, and sexual tension, and it makes the air thick and tense around us.

I can’t help myself, though. I want to see how much courage she has, and how far she’s willing to take this game, even though I know I should be running away from her. I should be attempting to save my own sanity, because only madness lies in that direction.

She’s not mine, and she can never be mine. I’m not worthy to have her. I repeat the daily mantra to keep myself away from her, and my restraint intact. The struggle becomes more impossible every single day I’m alone with her.

I’ve seen her watching me lately, those eyes I can’t resist tracking my movements. I know she fancies herself in lust with me, but it’s nothing but a crush. That of a young woman towards the only man who has been present in her life for the last few years. It means nothing, right?

For four tumultuous years, I have watched her grow stronger, braver, and flourish in her captivity. Four years of teaching her everything I know, and building up her resilience and skills, so that she can survive in this horrific world we live in. Four years of preparing myself to lose her, when they tear her from this house and rip out my heart.

The Brotherhood doesn’t understand what they did by giving her to me to protect. They ensured unknowingly that my allegiance would transfer from them, and only be to her, with all the years I have spent by her side. The only mercy that the Brotherhood could have ever shown her and me, and they didn’t even plan it. They placed us together, two broken souls who have managed to find comfort in each other’s company.

She doesn’t realize it, but Dinah Camrose has helped to heal something within me that she didn’t break. She is the only light in my world. In fact, she is my whole world, and once they come and claim her, I will be left in darkness again. My heart, which now only beats for her, will stop and crumble once she is gone. The thoughts bring me nothing but misery and remind me that, in this world, I am nothing, and could never reach high enough to be worthy of someone like her. Perfection, that is what she is, what she will always be to me.

“No, little minx. You can get it all on your own, you’re a grown-up now. We both know you don’t need me.” She stops before me, so close that the heat coming off her body sears into mine, making me have to bite down on the inside of my cheek and swallow a moan as her scent invades my nose. Fuck, she always smells sweet, earthy, and smokey to me. She smells like home and paradise, all wrapped into one, and I would love nothing more than to drown in her scent, but I can’t. It wouldn’t be right.

Her hand rises, the dish towel still hanging from her fingers, and she places the palms of both hands on my body. One directly over my thundering heart, and the other just above my belly button, which has me clenching my abs tightly at the feel of the weight of her palm against me. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What is she doing?

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