Page 162 of Tangled Kisses
“Because he warned me not to.” I press my fingers to the spot throbbing on my temple. “He told me if he suspected I’d told anyone, he’d kill you for fun. Slowly. And make me watch.” My body convulses with a sob, my voice cracking on every word. “I couldn’t, Griffin. I couldn’t risk it.”
“Jesus, Reese.”
I meet his eyes, my throat raw, my soul scraped bare. “He wanted his pound of flesh. I let him have it. And I’d do it again. Every day. If it kept you safe.”
Griffin’s face crumples. One second he’s across from me, the next his arms are crushing me to his chest, pulling me in so hard my ribs protest.
He holds me like he’s drowning, then jerks away, cracking his knuckles as his fists clench tight. “I’m flying to New York right now. I’m going to hunt that motherfucker down?—”
“No.” I claw at his shirt, desperate to calm him. “No. Hold me. Please just hold me.”
His body shudders against mine, tight as a bowstring, his voice ragged against my hair. “I’m going to fucking kill him. They’ll never find his body.”
I tilt my face up, the world dropping away until all I see is him. My fingers trace his beard. “No, you’re not. Promise me, Griffin. You’re going to live the most beautiful life, because you deserve it.”
His eyes search mine, fierce and tormented. “He can’t get away with this, Reese.”
“You know as well as I do what it’s like among the rich and entitled. They get away with worse than this every damn day.” A mirthless laugh slips past my lips. “His mother handed me a check—half a million dollars. Said I could use it however I wanted. New start, hush money, blood money, whatever label makes it easier to swallow.”
The horror on his face guts me. “Hush money.”
I swallow hard. “I guess if nothing else, it proves they had to pay me off for something, right?”
He grips my arms like he’s anchoring me. “And you’re okay with that?”
I bury my head against his chest, gripping like I might dissolve without him. “I’m standing here in your arms when I thought I’d be dead by now. So yes, I’m okay with it. I’m with you. And that’s all that matters.”
His voice breaks on a loud exhale. “When you handed me that check and told me goodbye… Christ, Reese. I thought I was nothing to you.”
I shake my head so hard it hurts. “Don’t you get it? You’re everything to me. I love you, Griffin Topete. Even if it doesn’t matter anymore, even if it’s too late. I love you.”
The words hang between us, foreign and familiar all at once. I’d dreamed of saying them while curled in his arms, or whispered against his ear while we danced. Not like this—quivering, broken, covered in marks. But the truth demands its freedom.
“I’ve loved you for so long.”
Something softens—his eyes shuttering for a breath, his chest lifting like he’s trying to hold himself together. A faint, almost disbelieving smile tugs at his lips, gone as quickly as it comes. “You love me, or you’re in love with me? Because it sure as helldoesmatter.”
“Well, let’s see. I’ll fly to Vegas tonight to marry you. I’ll give you four kids, or five, or ten. I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep next to you every night. We can stay in Oregon or move anywhere. I don’t care. I just want you.”
But it might not be that easy now, and I need to accept that fact.
I swipe at my eyes, useless against the flood of tears. “Sabine said you’d been in Portland. So I thought you had gone back to Lauren. To accept her proposal. To get married.”
His brow furrows, like the words don’t register. “What? I wasn’t with Lauren.”
“But Sabine said?—”
“I was in Portland because my dad died.” His voice cracks on the last word, hoarse with grief and exhaustion.
My hands fly to my mouth. “Oh, my God.” The sob rips out of me before I can stop it, and I bury my head in his chest, clinging like I can hold all the broken pieces of us together. “Griffin, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve been here. How are you holding up? How’s Pearl?”
“I’m exhausted.” Griffin strokes my hair, his touch so gentle against my torn skin. “Between losing you and losing him, it’s been too much.”
“You haven’t lost me, but I will give you space. Eat something, get some sleep—there’s plenty of food in that basket. Call me when you’re ready, whenever you want, okay? I’m here whenever you need me. Now go rest.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes fierce through the fog of grief and fatigue. “No.”
I blink. “No?”
