Page 97 of I Am Salvation

“If you don’t share my feelings, Dragon, I’ll be all right. But you do have the capacity to love. I’ve seen it.” I squeeze his hands. “I’ve seen it when you talk about Griffin.”

“You know that hooker I gave money to?”

I drop his hands, cock my head. “That’s a pivot.”

“I have a point.” He sighs. “She reminded me of Griffin. She was way too young to have actually been her, but she was blond and blue-eyed, and I could see that she had real beauty underneath, but she had been hardened by the life she chose. Or perhaps the life she didn’t choose. Maybe it was thrust on her, like the horror that was thrust on Griffin.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He looks down at the bedspread. “Griffin isn’t something I talk about. I only told you recently because you insisted on coming here to Taos with me.”

I rub his upper arm. “You don’t need to worry about that arrest, Dragon. My attorneys will get you off, especially after you tell that story.”

He huffs. “Damn it, Diana. You and your damned money.”

“Dragon, there is no better use for my money than helping someone I love.”

“You don’t love me, Diana.”

“Excuse me? You’re saying I don’t know my own feelings?”

“No. I’m saying you don’t know me. If you did, you would turn tail and run.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Dragon

Seventeen years earlier…

“Fuck, Dragon,” Zach hisses from his bed. “You just made it a lot worse for yourself.”

My eyes go blurry.

I’m yanked to my feet, pushed out the door of my bedroom. By who, I’m not sure. Lewis and Tully are still on the floor.

Aren’t they?

“If any of you cunts go to the brass”—Tully’s voice—“this will be you next time.”

The door to my new room slams.

Zach, Mike, the others. They won’t come after me. I already know that.

And I’m pretty sure I know what’s coming.

They’re going to beat me to a pulp.

I’ve been beaten before. Not usually by guys this big, but when I was nine and the perpetrators were eleven or twelve, it hurt like hell.

I can take it.

Not like I have a choice.

“Where are you taking me?” I demand.

“Shut the fuck up.” A voice I don’t recognize.

Then a clattering blow to my head.

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