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Some. But Jace wouldn’t wait long to hear the horror that had unfolded. The horror that was lodged in my chest.
“We’re here,” Jace said gently.
I blinked, pulled from my thoughts. Then my mouth fell open in shock as realization dawned, and instantly, a soothing balm spread over the raw wounds in my heart. Our tires crunched along the gravel driveway, my eyes burning with unexpected tears of gratitude.
Despite being barefoot and still in my disheveled work attire, I jumped out of the car as soon as Jace threw it into park and ran. Ran with the wind blowing through my tangled hair, tiny stones biting at the soles of my feet.
Unsurprisingly, Jace knew exactly what I needed.
Needed. Not wanted. Needed.
I ran into the stable, the amber glow filtering through open panes on the walls, making everything inside look warm and safe. The familiar smell of hay and oats washed over me, instantly calming my frayed nerves. Throwing open the stall door, I wrapped my arms around my horse’s neck, burying my face into her warm, solid presence as I finally let myself sob openly.
“Buttercup,” I whispered against her mane, feeling her solid strength beneath me.
She nickered softly in recognition, dropping her head over my shoulder, as if returning the embrace. As if to say,I’m here. As if to say,You’re safe now.
I felt Jace watching from a respectful distance, giving me this moment. And in that instant, something shifted between us. Something profound that I wasn’t ready to name yet.
Because, without my specifically telling him, he had known exactly where I needed to be, known the one place I’d feel safe. He had seen the real me beneath the mascara-streaked face and trembling hands. He had seen past the scared woman hiding under her desk to the heart of who I was.
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I watched Scarlett nuzzle her face into her horse, their connection pulsing like a visible heartbeat between them. Unbreakable. Elemental. I’d been right in taking her here, this magnificent beast the exact prescription her wounded soul needed when everything else in her world felt toxic.
Thank God. For the first time since I found her trembling under that desk, looking small in a way Scarlett West should never look, I could finally breathe again. And with that breath came space—space to examine the complicated web of thoughts and emotions tangling themselves into a goddamn knot in my head.
This woman had spent every waking moment since I’d known her overcompensating for having been vulnerable during her childhood. Scarlett “I Don’t Need Anyone” West. Queen of steel spines and take-no-prisoners smiles. So, seeing her surrender to fear earlier did two things to me: First, her pain ignited a white-hot rage that scorched through my veins. Second, it made me fall for her even harder than I already had. And trust me, I was already in dangerous territory.
Don’t get me wrong; I worshipped her confident, take-no-prisoners side. That sass could power a small city. But witnessing her brokenness cracked something open in me too: the ridiculoushope that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t beyond repair after all. Perhaps she could glue me back together, and we could hold our fragmented souls in place.
The truth was, beneath my billions, beneath the empire and designer suits that cost more than some people’s mobile homes, when I went home at night and stared up at my ceiling, I felt completely hollow inside. Empty. Broken.
That brokenness had started when I was a kid, when my father was murdered in cold blood, and whatever fragments remained shattered even more when cancer took my mother years later.
The only time I’d felt even close to whole again was with Scarlett. It was like my soul had been infected with some terminal disease, and she was the experimental medication slowly spreading its antidote through my veins. One sarcastic comment at a time. One smile at a time. One touch at a time.
No matter how hard I tried, I’d never understand the science of it. But then I suppose that was how it worked with things that didn’t fit themselves into Excel spreadsheets or PowerPoint charts. The unspoken, invisible forces made someone pure magic while others remained just flesh and bone.
Maybe I’d never understand how love worked. But I understood three very simple things:
One, I would find the man who hurt her.
Two, when I was done with him, his heart would no longer beat.
Three, so help me God, I would never allow anyone to hurt her again.
There was just one pesky detail complicating my vengeance plan. My intuition told me if I confronted Scarlett right this second, she would retreat, and I had no clue how long it might take for her to emerge from her shell again.
I wasn’t sure how long to give her though, but I knew some guys who might …
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SINNERS AND SAINTS GROUP CHAT
