Page 82 of Surrender to Me
More than anyone, I understand those kinds of dynamics.
“And yeah. Always a protector. My mom and my sister needed me.”
Dear God. “Stryker…”
“Let’s just say it this way…” He quirks an eyebrow. “He crossed a line, and I had no choice but to stop him.”
I swallow hard at the coldness in his voice. No regret.
“He went away, and I got taken into custody.”
Unable to help myself, I touch my arm. “You did what you had to.”
He nods. “I did. Mom might not be here if I hadn’t intervened.”
“God. You must have been scared.”
“By that time? Not at all. I was seventeen. I was big. Stronger than he was. And I’d learned to hold my own street fighting.”
I know there’s so much he’s leaving out. “Seventeen?” He wasn’t even an adult when he saved his mom.
“Dad was a dirty vice cop, and he got caught in a sting. While he was in lockup, my grandparents came to get us. She was finally willing to leave him.”
“And your arrest?”
“I got an amazing judge. Former military. Told me I had to channel my fire so it didn’t destroy me. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Join the military and my record would be expunged.”
My arms wrapped around me, I wait for him to continue.
“He got sent to the big house for a minimum of twenty years. Mom and Sis were safe. And I scored the biggest break of my life. I belonged in the military.”
“The judge is right. You were able to channel that fire.”
“You could say that.”
He takes a drink of the coffee that has to be cold by now. If it is, he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Now about you.” He turns to face me, as if he hasn’t just exposed a jagged part of his soul. “How did you get into design?”
I can’t tell him the truth. That I was inspired to draw pictures of the stunning jewelry that my dad was always showing me. I’d fill up sketchbook after sketchbook, creating elaborate images of the pieces on princesses in ballgowns. And of course, because I loved the story of Cinderella, sometimes a necklace was magical and transformed her life. In another, a ruby was a relic from a distant queen, and it was cursed. There was no limit to my imagination.
And at the time, I’d had no idea that everything dear old Dad showed me had been stolen. To me, he was a hero living a grand adventure, spinning tales for my entertainment.
We moved all the time, and it was fun. Until I learned that people like Stryker and the police were on our tails, closing in.
“I need to check on the stew.” I toss off the blanket. “How about a refresh on your coffee?”
He looks at me consideringly. “I can do that myself.”
“Well, I’m getting up anyway.” I pick up his mug. “Just give me a minute.”
“Yeah.”
While I escape, he stokes the fire, immediately filling the place with warmth.
When I’m steady, I settle into my previous spot on the couch.
Even as he accepts his drink, he frowns. “I don’t expect you to wait on me, Allie.”
