I was ashamed of myself.
Was I any different from Egor? Any different from the man who hurt my mother? The revelation changed everything, changed how I viewed myself.
Mia must have picked up on my mood because she addressed it. “Everything alright, Carter?”
“Yeah.” I stared across my room, my empty glass on the nightstand beside me.
She rubbed my chest, her eyes focused on my profile. “Seems like your mood has darkened.”
She could read me better than I realized. “I regret a lot of things. I should have saved you the second I realized what kind of monster Egor really was. I shouldn’t have looked the other way. I shouldn’t have participated in it. I shouldn’t have tricked you into escaping so I could hurt you…I’m not any different from Egor. I’m not any different from the man who hurt my mother. If my mother had told me this sooner…it would have changed everything.”
She rubbed her small hand across my chest. “You’re nothing like Egor, Carter. Despite your worst mistakes, you’re nothing alike. Remember, when I said no, you listened. You were always kind to me, always friendly. You gave me far more respect than Egor ever did.”
“I still didn’t help you…”
“Then how am I here? In your house?” She leaned down and pressed a kiss to my shoulder, her soft lips feeling like rose petals.
“Because I was sleeping with you.”
“Not true. You weren’t going to save me until I told you I had a son.” Her hand halted against my chest, her small fingernails digging into my skin. “You knew you wouldn’t be able to live without your own mother. That was why you helped me, Carter. Because it was the right thing to do. You know what Egor did? He left my son orphaned. He destroyed my body so I couldn’t have any more children. Don’t you dare compare yourself to Egor—you’re nothing like him.”
My hand rested on top of hers, and I squeezed her fingers. “Maybe that’s true. But I still could have been better… I could have treated you better.”
“Carter, if you didn’t treat me well, I wouldn’t be in this bed with you. I wouldn’t be kissing your warm skin. I wouldn’t be bedding you every night. I have the freedom to walk away, but I don’t want to.” Her hand moved to my chin, and she directed my stare onto her face. “I’m here with you because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” She leaned into me and rubbed her nose against mine, her soft strands of hair brushing against my skin. She leaned closer then pressed her mouth over mine, giving me a soft kiss. “You’re the only man I want, Carter. You’re the only man I trust.” She kissed me again, her breaths filling my mouth and lungs. Her fingertips dug into the pectoral muscle of my chest. “You’re the only man I can kiss this way and mean it.”
My hand cradled her head, and my fingers dug into her soft hair. I brought her in for a deeper kiss, my cock coming to life in my shorts. All my self-loathing disappeared when I listened to this woman applaud me, watched this woman want me. My mouth probably tasted like scotch and cigars, but that didn’t halt her desire. I maneuvered on top of her and positioned her underneath me, her head hitting the pillow and my body covering hers like a blanket. Just when I’d positioned her legs around my waist, the doorbell rang.
I pulled away and stared into her face, seeing the warmth of her eyes stare back at me. Whoever was at the door must be family again. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be able to get past the gate. I gave her a final kiss before I moved off her and pulled on my clothes.
“Do you want me to get the door?” she asked, sitting up in bed.
I pulled on my jeans and my t-shirt. “No. I already know who it is.”
“Who?”
“My father.” I left the bedroom and hurried down the two flights of stairs to the ground floor. I jogged to the entryway and finally made it to the front door. Without checking to see if it was really him, I opened the door.
As I expected, my father stood there in a black t-shirt and jeans, his hands tucked into his pockets while his car was parked in the driveway behind him. He stared at me with a hard look, bottling his emotions so I couldn’t see them.
I knew exactly why he was there, so I didn’t ask. “Come in.” I shut the door behind him, and we walked farther into the house.
He walked beside me, his hands still in his pockets. “Your mother told me you were pretty upset…”
I halted beside him, taken aback by the comment. “Did you expect me to react differently?” I wasn’t ashamed of my tears. I wasn’t ashamed of my heartbreak. The woman who raised me had been raped and tortured. Was I just supposed to brush that off?