Page 112 of Tell Me Why
I shake my head. “You’re asking me to trust you while my brother is chained up in the basement being beaten day in and day out.”
“I’ve already negotiated medical treatment for him, food, better conditions…” he says. “But convincing the guys to free him is going to take time.” He gestures to the book in my arms. “Trust me when I say, blackmail is only going to fan the flames. If you take that, the Burning Crown will rip through every single member of Shadow and Ash until they get to youandSin—and this time, they won’t hesitate to kill you. Even if I try to stop them.”
His words are like a shard of glass being launched into my chest.
“And you’d help them…” I say, my voice wobbly.
“I’ve already chosen you, Eve. I didn’t know it then, but I chose you the second you stepped into our study like a terrified little fox.” He steps close and brushes his lips against mine. “Please. Trust me.”
“Trust is a big ask,” I say. “Especially when you kept so much from me.”
“I know I don’t deserve it.” His voice is low. Quiet. “But if we have any hope of saving your brother, then we need to be a united front.”
I squeeze the book more tightly against my chest. Ifinallyhave it—the leverage and power I need. And now he just wants me to give it up?
“I love you, Eve,” he whispers. “And I swear to God, I’ll spend every day of my life proving that you can trust me.”
He loves me.
Christian West lovesme.
Tears slide down my cheeks, and my heart cracks wide open. “I love you, too,” I confess, feeling it. Knowing it. “That’s what makes this so impossible. Because I also love my brother.”
He pulls back and brushes my tears away with the pad of his thumb, the gesture so intimate, it makes me crumble inside. “I know, baby.”
Pulling in a trembling breath, I take a step back. Heisa Sacred Son, and he knows better than anyone how they operate. If he’s telling me he can get my brother out, then…I don’t know, maybe he can.
“Okay,” I finally say. “We’ll do it your way,but…” I hold a finger up. “...I want to see my brother. Every day.”
A smile touches the edges of his lips. “I can work with that.”
With a nod, I melt against his hard chest, breathing him in, a tiny spark of hope lighting up in my chest…
CHAPTERFORTY-SEVEN
Eve—Three weekslater
The basement is always freezing, and a shiver rolls through my body as I make my way down the dark, narrow staircase to the small room, where Sin is being held.
The vault door is already open, and one of the security guys, Yates, is standing guard. Hands clasped behind his back, he nods at me as I walk by. “Twenty minutes,” he says in a bored tone, just like he does every day.
“Yup,” I acknowledge, stepping inside the cement room. It’s still a dungeon—justslightlybetter. There’s a tattered upholstered chair, an old rug, and a metal cot with a thin mattress. It’s not much, but it’s better than zip-ties and a metal chair.
Sin is sitting in the chair, legs stretched out, reading. He looks up when I walk in. “Hey.”
The deep gash over his eye is starting to heal, the bright red edges fading to a lighter pink. And the bruises around his eyes are faded, too.
“I brought you your favorite tacos,” I smile, holding the bag and a large soda up. “From that taco truck you like.”
“Nice.” He tosses the book aside and grabs for the bag. “Hot sauce?”
I sit on the cot, legs crossed. “Yup, and I got extra so you can drench your tacos in it,” I say with a wince. I don’t know how he can handle that much hot sauce.
“Damn, that’s good,” Sin moans, taking a sip of the root beer.
I laugh at his reaction, and for a split second, I forget where we are. Then his eyes flick to Yates standing by the door, and it all comes crashing back.
“How are you doing?” I ask, watching him unwrap a taco and take a huge bite. He moans again, his eyes closing briefly.
