Page 28 of Fierce Secrets

"Who are you, Leo?"

Before I could blink, he had me pressed against the island, his body caging mine. He'd moved so fast, tugging me against him before pinning me. Heat radiated from him as he leaned close, his cologne and uniquely him scent swirling around me. My breath caught as he lowered his face so that it was only inches from mine.

"I'm the man who will protect you," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Always. Even if you think I'm a monster."

I felt like a mouse right now, trapped in the paws of a vicious cat, those piercing eyes delving right into my core. The dim light of the stove backlit him, giving the whole moment an oddly eerie sensation.

Except, right now, I wasn't afraid of Leo hurting me. I should have been, but for some strange reason, I wasn't. I only saw him as the man who had the answers I sought, one who might not dodge my questions.

We held one another's gaze for a moment as his words clicked over in my head. A monster? No. The word felt wrong for him, despite what he'd done. Despite what he might have done tonight.

This was the man who'd stopped my father from beating me, and somehow, I knew he was the man who'd saved me in my life. I just didn't know when, how, or why.

I just knew.

My heart thundered against my ribs as I swallowed, softening my gaze as I realized why his expression was so steeled right now. "I don't think you're a monster." My voice was barely a whisper in the shadows around us.

He stilled, something flickering in his eyes. Then his mouth was on mine, hot and demanding. I gasped in surprise, andhe took advantage, deepening the kiss. His hands gripped the counter on either side of me as mine clutched at his jacket, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away. His tongue stroked my own, and a fire burned to life deep inside me.

Then suddenly he was gone, leaving me breathless and confused.

"Get some sleep," he said, already walking toward the hall. "It's been a long evening."

I touched my lips, still feeling the burn of his kiss as I watched him disappear down the hall.

What the hell had just happened?

My fingers trailed over my tingling lips as he disappeared into the shadows, and I heard the bathroom door open and close. The ghost of his kiss lingered, adding another layer of confusion to this already chaotic day. After a moment, I retreated to the bedroom Gray had pointed out earlier, the plush carpet muffling my steps as I wondered where Leo would sleep. On the couch? That didn't seem fair, but it wasn't like he was planning on sharing with my brother or me.

I swallowed at the thought of him climbing into my bed.

After that kiss, I was feeling all sorts of ways, my emotions and feelings a jumbled mess.

Why'd he kiss me? Since when did Leo feel anything for me? Was it just to keep me quiet?

I shook my head, unable to figure him out, a strange mix of hope and confusion blossoming in my chest.

My phone felt heavy in my hand as I perched on the edge of the bed. The events of the past twenty-four hours swirled in my mind – Logan's betrayal, the shooting, the secrets I could feel pressing in from all sides. Before I could talk myself out of it, I unblocked Logan's number. The backlog of messages floated there as I opened up my messaging app, but I ignored them, typing and retyping a simple message for what felt like hours.

What should I say? Why did I even want to reach out? Why did I care about him still after he'd hurt me? Was it guilt for what had happened to him afterwards? I knew it was silly, he'd brought it upon himself, but Leo had put him in the hospital because of me…

Finally, I pressed send, rolling my eyes at my pathetic message.

Are you recovering okay?

His response came quickly, and I gritted my teeth as my chest tightened.

Lose my number. I never want to speak to you again.

The words hit harder than I expected, tears pricking at my eyes. After what he'd done, why did his rejection still hurt? Three years of my life, gone in a moment of betrayal, and now he was acting like I was the villain?

Anger bubbled up, sudden and hot, replacing the hurt. This was Leo's fault. All of it. The secrets, the violence, the way my whole life had spiraled in less than twenty-four hours.

I found myself moving down the hall before I could think better of it. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, steam escaping through the gap and carrying with it the scent of expensive soap. When I peaked in, Leo stood there in just a towel slung low on his hips, water droplets trailing down his tattooed chest.

I pushed the door open. "This is all your fault," I whispered harshly, mindful of Gray's closed door down the hall.

Leo turned, unsurprised by my presence. His torso was a canvas of intricate artwork, the words 'Die Last' prominent across the top of his chest. More tattoos wrapped around his ribs and down his arms, telling stories I couldn't read. I forced myselfto focus on my anger instead of the way the water made his skin gleam under the soft lighting.

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