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Quinn drew in a slow, uneven breath. “You were right to take the boys from me.” Her voice cracked slightly, but she pushed through it, her fingers dropping to his arm, clutching at his forearm as if she needed the grounding. “Iwasn’tfit. I had lost myself… so deeply in the dark, in the bottle. They weren’t safe.” Her throat bobbed, her lips pressing together like it physically hurt to get the words out. “I didn’t know who to be without Brian, and that’s something I need to find for myself.” More tears welled in her eyes. More distress. “God, that hurts so much to admit that.”
Daggerfeltthe weight of it in his chest. In his ribs. Like something solid and unrelenting. He already knew this deep down. He waited, saying nothing, letting her speak.
She lifted her gaze, meeting his with something raw, something so open it nearlyleveledhim. “Thank you,” she said, voice hoarse, broken. “For making the hard choices when I couldn’t. For keeping them safe.”
His chest tightened, his throat going thick.
Then she squeezed his arm, her grip fierce. “And for making it easy to keep them in my life.”Again, she paused, something flickering in her expression, something reverent. Admiration. “I know this will be hard to believe,” she said quietly, “but I’m not onlygrateful, Dagger. I have so muchrespectfor you.”
His breath hitched.
Dagger reeled, his mind scrambling to process what she was saying. She wasn’t just acknowledging the past. She was giving him something he never thought he’d have. Vindication. Respect. Fucking hell, if she kept looking at him like that, she was going to unravel him all over again.
This was abreakthrough.
Afuckingmonumental one.
Then Quinn moved, just the barest shift, her fingertips still resting on his jaw, her thumb brushing against the corner of his mouth, like she needed to feel him, to reassure herself he was real.
He swallowed hard, his pulse slamming against his ribs. He’d taken a hundred blows in his life, but this? This was the one that knocked him breathless.
But she wasn’t done with the body slams. Without warning her face crumpled, the first sob ripped from Quinn’s throat like something wrenched straight from her soul.
Dagger barely had time to react before she completely shattered.
Her whole body curled inward, her face pressing against his chest as deep, gut-wrenching sobs tore through her. No more composure, no more measured words, just pure, unfiltered remorse.
Itguttedhim.
She wasn’t just crying. She wasbreaking apart, right there in his arms, her fingers twisted in his shirt to keep from dissolving completely.
Fuck,he pulled her across his lap, feeling the soft curves of her body press into him, the warmth of her bleeding through his clothes. It was excruciating. Every part of him ached, from the tight coil in his chest to the unbearable hardness throbbing between his thighs. He clenched his jaw, locking that need away as tight as a sailor’s bunk, because this moment wasn’t about him. It was about her. He’d rather fucking suffer than take something from her when she was like this.
His arms curled around her, pulling her in, sheltering her from the world as she wept against him. He didn’t tell her it was okay, didn’t whisper reassurances or try to stop the stormtearing through her. A long-overdue collapse under the weight of everything she had carried for too goddamn long. It was tearinghimapart.
She sobbed until she shook, her body wracked with years of pain, guilt, and sorrow. All he could do was hold her through it,take it, absorb it, let her feel every jagged piece of it. He owed her that. Brian owed her that. She owed that to herself. He squeezed her, letting her know that he was there, that he had her, and he wasn’t going anywhere until she was steady.
Because one thirty-minute conversation wasn’t going to fix this. He knew that. So, he let her cry.Let her rip his goddamn heart out with the rawness of it, the struggle in her making it impossible to breathe.
How many nights had she suffered like thisalone? How many times had she drowned herself in a bottle because she didn’t have anyone to do what he was doing now? Fury coiled in his gut, but it had nowhere to go. Dagger thrived on control, on fixing, on charging straight into battle with a plan. This wasn’t something he could fight, something he could defeat with sheer force of will. It was just something he had to weatherwithher.
She was burning down, coming apart in a thousand pieces of ash and ache, and he was the steady, relentless beat of the ocean’s heart against the shore, cooling her, grounding her, holding her together until she could rise again.
By the time the storm finally passed, Quinn was exhausted, her breath coming in ragged gasps against his chest. Her fingers uncurled from his shirt, her shoulders slumping, her body still trembling from the force of it.
Dagger exhaled slowly, pressing his lips to her hair, letting his own heartbeat calm before he spoke. “We need to get some rest,” he murmured. She didn’t answer right away, just inhaled shakily, pulling herself together.
Then, voice rough and hoarse, she whispered, “I don’t want to be alone.”
Dagger closed his eyes for a beat.Fuck.
Temptation surged through him like a goddamn tidal wave. The thought of being with her tonight, of keeping her close, of letting his presence be the thing that steadied her.Damn.
But there was too much between them. Too much still unresolved.
Dagger sighed, reluctantly loosening his hold on her. “That’s an order, babe. Tex will kill me if I don’t.” He’d had enough of Tex chewing his ass.
Her tired laugh was barely a breath against his chest, but it still managed to wreck him.