Page 56 of Devil's Thirst

“And you never told any of this to Lina or Oran?” He studies me intently. I can practically see the gears turning in his head, assessing what I’ve told him for inconsistencies or missing pieces. I’m scared he’s questioning whether I’ve told him everything. I have to do my best to convince him.

“No. At first, I didn’t tell Lina because I was scared and didn’t want her to worry. She’d already gone through so much for me. I thought if I stayed quiet, it would all go away. And it more or less did until recently when that man started to follow me. I don’t even know why—that’s the most frustrating part. I didn’t do anything. Then my call to the cops upped the ante. Now, I’m afraid there’s no de-escalating the situation.”

Sante’s hand reaches across to cup the back of my neck while his stare locks with mine. “I will not let this man touch you or your family. You understand me?”

“But…”

“No. No buts. I understand what’s at stake. It. Will. Not. Happen.”

I nod, emotions clogging my throat. I’m so freaking scared, but maybe between his family and the Byrnes, this whole mess might finally end.

“I need to hear you say it, Mellie. Tell me you trust me not to endanger you.”

“I trust you.”

He leans in and kisses my forehead with such excruciating tenderness that my chest constricts. All at once, I realize that I’ve been focused on my own concerns and haven’t considered the danger he’ll now be in.

God, please tell me I haven’t made a huge mistake.

My entire body sags with relief when we finally make it back to my apartment. I’m emotionally exhausted from the day and ready to pass out, but as I look toward my bedroom, I find myself wishing Sante was coming with me. To have that comfort—his smell and strength and warmth to reassure me that everything will be okay.

If only my life were simple enough that I could invite him in.

He’s been so understanding—going so far as to call me his future wife—but a part of me still waits for the other shoe to drop. For him to realize what a mess I am and bail. All I’ve done is bring him drama and chaos, and after a lifetime of conditioning to see myself as a burden, I struggle to believe this could possibly be real. That Sante would voluntarily want to bind himself to me.

He's seen plenty of your crazy already and hasn’t left.

Exactly. I’ve given him more of myself than I ever have to anyone. If he leaves now, I’ll be incredibly hurt. If I let myself love him, only for him to walk away, I won’t recover from that sort of devastation.

True, but then you’ll never know love.

I realize I’ve been standing, staring vacantly at my bedroom door. I turn to see that Sante’s been watching me the whole time. “Thank you.” I nervously bite my lip, feeling more vulnerable than I have in years.

“For what?” he asks softly.

“For everything.”

This time, his kiss isn’t remotely tender. He sweeps forward and presses his lips to mine with such demanding need that my knees go weak. The kiss is intense but short-lived. When he pulls away, his brown eyes blaze with unspoken words I can’t identify.

“You don’t taste like mint and menthol anymore,” I say dazedly, making me realize he’s lived with me for a week, and I haven’t seen him smoke once.

“Someone wise told me it was a filthy habit, so I quit.” The rasp in his voice brings goose bumps to every inch of exposed skin.

“Oh,” I breathe. He quit … forme? “You didn’t have to—"

“Wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want to. Now, time for you to get to bed before I do something else I’ve been dying to do.”

My mouth goes dry.

The scalding heat in his stare tells me in no uncertain terms thatIam what he’s been dying to do. When I don’t immediately retreat, he inches forward.

“Not warnin’ you again.” His voice is now shredded and raw. He’s on the verge of losing control.

No matter how much I want to experience his brand of worship, I’m not ready. This thing between us is too big to take lightly. I’m already halfway to a panic attack merely thinking about it. So I do the only thing I can and scurry away to the safety of my bedroom, hating that I feel like a coward.

CHAPTER 27

SANTE

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