“If I tell you to stay in, then that’s because it’s not safe outside. If I tell you to stand in the fucking corner and face the wall, it’s because you’ve done something stupid and you need to think about your actions—”
I had no idea,no idea whatsoever, why that had heat whipping through me.
Stand in the corner?
Like I was a little girl?
I’d seen them do that in old movies. Seen kids who’d had to wear paper cones on their heads with a massive letter ‘D’ for dunce on it.
That shouldnotbe a turn on, but tell that to my body.
Unaware that my mind had just gone down a decidedly deviant route, Brennan continued, “—for all that, I want your loyalty. Your trust. And I’m aware I need to earn it.”
Of the million things I could have woken up to today, of the many things he could have said or done, whatever I might have anticipated,thiswas not it.
But then, I took a second to look at him, to take every inch of him in and process.
He was fully dressed, and his shoes were dirty. I had no idea who polished those Italian Oxfords, but someone did, and I’d seen them all lined up in his closet. The dirt on them, that tracked mud onto the gazillion-thread count sheets, meant that he’d gone out.
Everything Russian in me cringed at the sight. In my culture, it was rude to wear shoes inside the home, and filthy ones? Inbed?
Still, there were more important things to concern myself with...
A glance outside the windows let anyone know that it was barely morning, but something had evidently happened. Something that put shadows in the eyes of this frightening man I called husband.
But for all that I’d been thinking of ways to tie him to me, he’d clearly been wanting the same thing in return.
I could have been coy, could have milked this situation for all it was worth, could have kept him hanging—but that wasn’t me.
I wasn’t, and never would be, like that.
So I was honest with him, and I hoped he didn’t fuck me over because I didn’t want to play games with him.
“You saved me from my family,” I intoned softly, lifting my legs so that I could wrap my arms around my knees. “From the Bratva,” I tacked on. “You spun deals to keep me safe. Without speaking to Maxim, without making that happen, I have no idea where I’d be right now.
“Brennan, we don’t know each other that well, so you don’t know if you can trust me or not. If anything, you know what I’ll do to survive, so I understand if that doesn’t mean that much to you. I’m here, my father’s blood on my hands, with no guilt in my heart, no grief weighing me down, but I’m telling you now—I’ll never betray you.” When his face remained a blank slate, I whispered, “I told Maxim that too. If he ever tried to use what I did to Father against me, to manipulate me into spilling secrets about the Five Points, I told him I wouldn’t, and I meant it.”
His mouth twisted into a skewed line as he sat up, his elbows coming to his thighs as he propped himself up. He shoved his face into his hands like he was going to cry, but he rubbed his palms over his eyes, digging in as if he was trying to rid them of sleep.
I wasn’t sure what that meant. If he believed me or not, and just as a whisper of hurt tried to flare inside me, he rasped, “There’s some shit you’re not supposed to tell anyone. You’re just supposed to lock it up inside, and you have to deal with it. Usually I can do that, usually, it’s just another day on the fucking job. But...”
“Today’s different. Why?” I asked softly.
“You’ve been betrayed, Camille. I guess you didn’t know that at the time, but your father betrayed you, didn’t he?”
“He did. Not just with Mama but when he wouldn’t change his mind about who he wanted me to marry. I had no alternative but to run.”
“What if you can’t run? And what if, you know something that could destroy a family, but they’re going to destroy your world—does that make it okay to retaliate? To act first before they have the chance to?” He shook his head. “This is fucked up.”
“It sounds it,” I whispered, surprised he was telling me this even though I was also glad. Tentatively, I pressed my hand to his leg. The silk suit didn’t crease beneath my grasp, but I was reminded of just how dressed he was and how dressed I wasn’t. “Brennan? What can I do to help?”
“No one can help, Camille. This is one of those Catch 22 situations, and the bitch of it is that I’m not supposed to be talking about this kind of crap with you but—” He shook his head again. “Ain’t got no one else who won’t fly off the handle when they hear this news.”
Cautiously, I questioned, “Are you in danger? Is that the kind of betrayal you’re talking about?”
He cast me a look. “We’re always in danger.” His mouth twisted. “Didn’t you know?”
“I did, but this sounds more urgent.”