“What activities?”
“It turned out to be my connection to your activities.”
“What activities?” he repeats.
“The connections to Raul and Niccolo, and there was a politician whose name I regretfully missed, who Gallo says employed you to either kill his wife or cover up her murder.”
He stands there, stone that cannot be broken, his eyes hard, his spine stiff, seconds ticking by before he says, “Why did you end the meeting?”
“He made a crass statement about a good fuck not making a good man.”
He closes the distance between us, stopping a step from touching me, the scent of him earthy and warm. “He made you doubt me.”
“No. He got me doubting me. He got at me and the amnesia. Part of the reason I went to that meeting was that reference to my ‘activities’ that I feared would sideswipe us, or get to your men before me. I know in my heart that I can’t be turned, but you can’t take that risk. You can’t operate as The Hawk with a woman who’s a mental light switch from becoming a problem.”
He snags my hips, his touch spiraling through me, the way everything about this man spirals through me. “This was never about me trusting you,” he declares. “This was about you trusting me. About you waiting to find out about me from me, not fucking Gallo.”
Suddenly, every word he’s spoken and every action he’s taken since pulling me into that alcove shifts and takes on a new light. It’s now about him daring to open himself up to me, about being raw and exposed, letting me see the blood of past wounds, while Gallo tries to cut them deeper.
“He can’t turn me against you,” I say, grabbing his jacket again. “I’m with you, Kayden. All the way, in every way.”
He backs me up, pressing me against the wall. “You say that now, but being with me is not roses and chocolates, Ella. With me comes every dark, hard-to-swallow secret of The Underground.”
“If Enzo’s death last night, and Gallo today, doesn’t prove I’m here to stay, I don’t know what will. I’m here. I’m not leaving.”
“I’m not just talking about Enzo or Gallo. I’m talking about me, and what this life does to me, and what it has made me. And I’m talking about us, and how that affects us.” He cups my backside and pulls me to him, my hand flattening on the solid wall of his chest. “You have no idea how dark I can be,” he declares, his voice a rough, low rumble. “You have no idea of the decisions I have to make, and how I cope with them. And if I didn’t have business to attend to right now, I’d show you.” His forehead touches mine. “I’d make you understand.” His cheek slides to mine, his breath a warm tease on my neck and ear. “I can protect you from everyone but me.”
These words hit a nerve I don’t understand, and my fingers curl around his shirt. “Don’t. Don’t protect me from you.”
“I’ve been cautious, Ella. I’ve been gentle. I’ve said I’ll demand everything and more from you, but I haven’t.”
I shove on his chest, forcing him to lean back and look at me. “Then you deny both of us the possibilities of what we could be.”
His eyes darken the pale blue to almost black. “I am—”
“Not him,” I say, knowing at least partially where this is coming from. “He didn’t push my limits like you want to. He didn’t escape with me. I was a possession he was free to punish—not please, tease, and pleasure. He took me to a sex club and tied me up and had a woman beat me. You would not do that. You are my escape. You make me forget that.”
“Until you see everything I am.”
“I am not afraid of who you are. I am afraid of who you won’t be when you’re with me, and what that does to us. So as of right now, be on notice. Fuck gentle. I demand everything and more. And don’t you dare give me anything less.”
“I am many things you haven’t tasted or touched, but this conversation isn’t about me denying you, or us, those things. It’s about me promising you that they’re coming.” He releases me without warning, leaving me limp against the wall, stunned to find him walking toward the door.
“But you think it’s the beginning of the end,” I say, my words halting him in the archway. “So I’ll just have to hang on tight enough for both of us.”
He finally faces me, his face all hard lines and shadows. “Do you think I helped that man kill his wife, or at least cover it up?”
“I don’t know what happened, but I believe that you make decisions that are honorable, or I wouldn’t be here. And if you think you could stop me from leaving if I chose to, you’re wrong. I’m resourceful.”
“If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have made it to that alleyway alive. We’re going to a formal political event tonight. I’ll make sure you have what you need. Be ready for the party by eight.” Then he disappears into the bathroom, his footsteps quickly fading, the bedroom door opening and closing, to seal me inside his world, not out, so much so that he’s taking me to this event. At least for now.
I press my palms to the wall for much-needed stability, stunned by what just happened—but one thing is crystal clear. I have looked into his eyes and seen inside his soul, and I am deeply, passionately in love with him. But to have that matter, I can’t just say the words. I have to show him. I have to fight with him and for him.
I can’t speed up that process, but I can remove an obstacle. My amnesia. I hurry to the stool again and sit down, pulling my phone from my purse. Tabbing through the numbers, I pull up Nathan’s number and dial the man who is not only my doctor but my hope right now.
“Ella,” he says two rings later.
“Can I see you? Or can you come here??