Page 67 of Taking

I scowled at the door, my hands on my hips. Maybe he needed time to digest what he’d set into motion. Maybe he didn’t feel the relief, the satisfaction he’d expected and was disappointed.

Or maybe he’d gotten what he’d wanted from me. My body, my pain…and a part of my heart.

I pushed that thought away while pulling on some clothes. Not once had Gideon mentioned any of the emotions he felt toward me. Everything between us had always been physical. We hadn’t spoken of the connection we shared whenever our gazes clashed with understanding.

But I’d felt that shit. Had to trust in it because I had nothing else. Losing Gideon would be like… I had nothing to compare it to. Couldn’t imagine no longer experiencing what I did when I was with him.

Even if it was sick.

Ten minutes later, we headed up the highway, and Gideon remained quiet and broody. I couldn’t handle the silence between us while my mind continued to question.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my stomach a hard knot.

He glanced in the rearview mirror. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

I didn’t even get a side eye.

“Talk to me, Gideon. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

I glared at him, hating his bland tone that only twisted my belly up tighter. He could read me like an open book, but beyond the occasional hint of vulnerability he’d allowed through the first couple of months, I realized I didn’t know him.

Not really.

“Talk to me,” I repeated.

“I’d rather not.”

I hugged myself and peered out over the white landscape of the cold wilderness. The weather had warmed up a bit, enough to melt some of the snow, but winter still clung. Frigid. Biting.

“I thought we were in this together,” I muttered, sounding like a whiny brat, but it was preferable than revealing the ache in my chest if he hoped to hurt me like I feared.

“We are, but there are some things best left in the dark.”

I glanced at him, somewhat mollified by his assurance that we were of the same mind, but the tension riding me didn’t relent. “Why can’t I know what you’re thinking, Gideon? What do you have planned that you aren’t telling me?”

“Do you trust me?”

I studied his profile, wondering why the hell he would even ask such a thing—and yet questioning in the deepest parts of me if I actually did. “Of course I do.” I stated what I wanted to be the truth. What I longed for.

But I wondered if he trusted me after what I’d done to him.

I couldn’t bear the idea of asking and having him remain silent.

So I kept my mouth shut the rest of the ride into the wilderness.

26

Gideon

Addilyn slept on our tiny bed. It’d taken a two-hour long fucking session to finally shut her the fuck up. Once we got back to the cabin, she’d poked and prodded me for my thoughts and my emotions over what we’d made happen to that point, but I didn’t even know myself. Couldn’t explain what I had no words for.

I wasn’t happy. Wasn’t relieved.

Not yet.

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