Page 53 of Final Vendetta

As he spoke, his gaze grew distant. His body may lay next to mine, but his mind was far away. Still trapped in that hellhole that deprived him of so much more than just four years of his life.

“The kid was scrawny. Terrified. But he fought like hell. He knew what would happen if he didn’t.” A subtle laugh fell from his throat. “He reminded me of some of the kids I taught martial arts at the community center. He had that same look in his eyes.”

“What happened?” I asked, even though I already knew. If Gideon was here, there was only one possible outcome.

“He got in a lucky shot with a piece of metal, but that was all. It didn’t take much for me to knock him out. They started shouting at me to kill him, but…” He broke off, his throat working as he swallowed hard. “I couldn’t do it.Wouldn’tdo it. I was so tired of playing their game.”

He sucked in a deep breath, his grip on me tightening, as if he needed me to keep him grounded. To remind him I was here. That he survived.

“So they strung us up like pigs about to be slaughtered and whipped us until one of us died.”

I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to stifle the sound of my choked sob. I’d seen the marks on his back. Knew what they were probably from. But hearing the full extent of his torture was almost unbearable.

“What was your first fight like?” I asked, despite a voice in my head telling me to change the subject to something lighter. Happier.

But we needed to do this. Needed to talk about it. Needed to normalize the trauma of his past.

“Terrifying.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, a lump building in my throat. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what that must have felt like.

“I’d been training for a few weeks at that time. I’d been forced to watch the fights and had seen other men take their last breath. But nothing could have prepared me to be in that cage. To hear the guard order us to pick up our weapons and remind us that the match would only end when one of us was dead. All I was given was an empty beer bottle while my opponent had spiked knuckle dusters. I thought for sure I’d die. There was no way I could kill someone with a beer bottle.”

“How did you?”

“It’s still foggy. I guess my will to live was greater than his.”

I heard the guilt still lingering in his voice, even after all this time. Winning meant surviving, but it also meant taking a life. Even in the fights where he walked away without physical scars, I knew the mental scars went far deeper. He’d carry those the rest of his life.

“That happened a lot,” he continued. “After someone had been there a while, at some point they just gave up. Would rather die than continue living in that hell. Wanted to go out on their own terms. No one else’s.”

I grabbed his hand, intertwining our fingers. “But not you.”

He peered down at me, bringing my hand to his lips and feathering a soft kiss to the skin.

“I guess I had something to live for.” He gently pushed me onto my back, his touch achingly soft as he smoothed a few strands of hair away from my face before cupping my cheek.

It was such a contrast from the way he fucked me last night, leaving me sore in all the right places. But despite being drawn to his darkness, I was also drawn to his light. To his heart. To his soul.

“I hadyouto live for, Imogene,” he murmured against my mouth. “Swear you won’t ever let me forget that again.”

“Never,” I promised as he touched his lips to mine.

I pulled him closer, our bodies molding together as we deepened the exchange. The taste of his tongue as it swiped against mine was like a forbidden fruit, intoxicating and addictive. But even with his body flush with mine, it wasn’t enough. I needed more of him.

Neededallof him.

As if able to read my innermost thoughts, he settled between my thighs, bringing his erection up to my entrance. Without breaking his lips from mine, he pushed inside. A whimper escaped my throat at the sensation of completeness consuming me.

I circled my legs around his waist, drawing him closer with every gentle thrust, not wanting so much as a speck of air between us. He moved against me, slow and deliberate, sending waves of pleasure through my body.

This was exactly what I needed right now. I wanted him like this, laid bare and vulnerable. Accepting of his past and the role it would play in our present and future.

Accepting of his scars and faults.

He slowly pulled his lips away, his gaze locked on mine as our bodies continued their sensual dance. The depth of emotion in his eyes sent a thrill through me, my heart swelling with love for this man. For every part of him — his darkness, his light, and all the gray areas in between.

I ran my fingers along his arms, exploring each and every scar, until my hand came to rest over his heart. It beat steadily beneath my touch, a strong and constant rhythm despite the weight of his past.

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