“Sorry, maybe I should have taken you somewhere to get some food,” I say, realizing my mistake.
She shakes her head. “I’m not hungry.”
I open my mouth to say the words I’m desperate to say—I love you. But I snap my mouth shut again, knowing those words will just make everything worse. Instead, I say the next best thing.
“I forgive you, not that there is anything to forgive.”
She gasps and blinks rapidly, trying to pull her hand free of mine. “You can’t.”
“I do. That’s why I was so upset, not at you, at myself for wanting you no matter how much you hurt me.”
She steps back.
I step into her space, my predatory stare boring into her. “But there was nothing to forgive, was there? You were told to hurt me. That was the only way we would get the next clue.”
A tear slips from her eye as she nods. “Yes.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
I swipe the tear off her cheek. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were given a task, and you did it. If the roles were reversed, I would have done the same thing.”
“But I chose Corbin…I chose the worst thing I could think of to hurt you.”
I shake my head. “You made the best out of a bad situation. Corbin trusts you now. He thinks you hate me, that you will do anything he asks just to ruin me.”
“But I almost got us killed. I put you through so much pain. I made you watch while he fucked me.”
“No!” my voice booms, halting her ramble.
I pull her into my arms, until our bodies are pressed together. “I didn’t let Corbin fuck you. I couldn’t. Maxwell couldn’t either. We fought our way out of there.”
“Maxwell helped you?”
“Turns out your instincts were right. I’m pretty sure Maxwell is a good guy.”
“Where is he?”
“Hiding, Corbin won’t forgive his brother easily. But you don’t have to worry about Corbin hurting the child he has; he thinks you are going to betray me to help him. You played your role well.”
“Thank you for saving me. It wouldn’t have mattered to me if he fucked me—I’m yours either way. But thank you,” she says.
I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“Don’t fucking thank me for claiming what’s mine.”
Then I tilt her head back and kiss her. We are standing in the middle of ancient ruins, in the middle of the desert, with no one around, and it feels like we are on top of the world. This kiss says I’m sorry, you’re forgiven, and I love you more than any words ever could.
I don’t know how I’m ever going to stop kissing her, but before I have to worry about that, I feel wetness hit my lips. Her tears have rolled down her cheeks and landed on both of our lips.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“You were supposed to hate me.”
I frown, not understanding.
“Promise me you hate me.” She shakes me, demanding for me to hate her.
“I hate you,” I lie. It’s one of the most obvious lies I’ve ever said. I don’t hate her. There is nothing that could make me hate her. Nothing.
27