*
It didn’t surprise Tanner that his hellcat didn’t speak much throughout the journey back to his complex. She seemed in a daze as she allowed him to lead her into the elevator and up to his floor. She also didn’t comment on him taking her to his apartment rather than her own.
Inside the living room, he pulled her close. His chest tightened as he stared down at her. She looked all hollowed out, like she hadn’t eaten or slept in a while. No surprise. She’d had a shit evening. Had been forced to go for a hike down memory lane—a lane that was rocky, treacherous territory. And then she’d had to face the very real likelihood that one of her half-siblings could be the person who’d tried to have her kidnapped.
His demon let out a disgruntled growl, not liking that she wasn’t her usual fiery self. Rather than trying to shake her out of her funk, since Tanner figured she was entitled to indulge in one for a while, he took her to his bathroom and slowly shed her clothes. They didn’t speak much as he bathed her, but he sensed the tension leaving her muscles. Her eyes closed in contentment when he began massaging shampoo into her hair. By the time he was plucking her out of the bath and patting her dry with a lush towel, she no longer looked so lost.
In his room, he brushed her hair and then slipped one of his shirts on her. Fastening the last button, he asked, “You hungry?”
She gave a weak shake of the head.
He curled his hands around hers. “Talk to me, kitten. What’s going through that head of yours?”
She licked her lips. “I want to argue that you’re wrong; that Leticia and the others aren’t involved in this. I want to believe your theory is way off-base.”
“But you know it’s not.”
“I tried to stay out of Finn’s life. I never asked him or any of them for anything. I never bemoaned not having a place in their family or—”
“Listen to me, baby. This isn’t about you; it isn’t about what you did or didn’t do. Whatever emotions are driving this fucker—anger, hate, resentment, all three—are nothing to do with you. People feel those emotions every day and don’t plot to kill. Their actions are on them. Not on you. Not on Pamela or Finn.”
She bit her lip. “You were mad that I didn’t tell you the truth about Pamela.”
“At first, yeah, but I get why you didn’t. It just bothers me that you don’t feel you can trust me with whatever’s in here”—he tapped her chest and then moved his finger to her temple—“or up here.”
“It’s not about trust.”
“You didn’t trust that I wouldn’t judge Pamela for what happened.”
“It’s not that. It’s just … strong people can’t always see things from the perspective of someone who’s so emotionally vulnerable.”
“My opinion? Your mother isn’t weak. A lot of people in her position would have turned rogue a long time ago. She held on. And she held on for you. That’s not weak, baby.” The woman was resilient, just like her daughter. Fuck, his hellcat had been trapped in a car with a dead body—a dead baby—for hours when she was only a child. That would fuck anyone’s head up, but she’d worked through it as best she could. Even had enough softness in her to feel sympathy for the person who put her through that shit.
“I really did try to get out of the car. I just … couldn’t.”
He caught her face in his hands. “You hold no blame in what happened.”
“I know, but I can’t help feeling that I should have tried harder to make Pamela listen to me about the baby. She kept ignoring me, no matter what I said or how many times I said it.”
“Give your six-year-old self a fucking break, kitten. You couldn’t have known what would happen. You hold no blame. If our positions were reversed, you’d say the same thing to me.” He curled her hair behind her ear. “You’ve got to let that shit go. It taints the way you look at Asher, and it could taint the way you look at your own children.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but then she swiftly clamped her lips shut and averted her gaze. And something about the way she did it made his alarm bells ring.
“What is it?” He cocked his head, trying to read her expression. “You can tell me anything, kitten. You know that.”
But she slowly shook her head, her eyes glinting with a pain he didn’t understand the source of.
“I swear to Christ, you’re safe with me.” But she didn’t say anything and, yeah, that hurt. Tanner was a hard man to get close to—he owned that. But Devon had just as many protective shields in place. Or maybe she only raised those shields with him.