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She shakes her head. “That’s not what was going on.”
“Don’t lie to me, not about that.”
“I’m not,” she says, bringing her other hand up, holding my face in her palms. The simple touch feels like bliss. She could kill me, and I think I’d still love her.
My chest cracks open. I know I have to let her go. All I’ll do is destroy her. Mom used to be whole, but bit by bit, Dad broke her. His anger. Their marriage. Everything about it made her into someone she was never meant to be. I won’t do that to Cassia. I can’t.
“Look at me, Mace.”
“I am.”
“No,” she snaps. “Lookat me. I’m not afraid of you, notlike that. Am I scared you’re going to break my heart or that me talking to the FBI is going to fuck us up?” She pauses to take a breath and a tear slips out.
My restraint cracks. I dry her cheek with a sweep of my thumb.
“Mace,” she says, moving her hands back to my hair, drawing her nails over my scalp. “I need you to hear me.” She tugs on my hair.
Fuck, I don’t want to lose this.
“I’m listening, baby.”
“You arenothinglike your father.” She searches my face. “The only reason I’m scared is because I love you, and the thought of losing you terrifies me.”
Those words slam into me. For a few seconds, I can’t think. Can’t even fucking breathe. She loves me? After everything? The murder, the forced marriage, the hate sex, the FBI...after all of that, my cinnamon girl came out loving me?
“Mace?” Trepidation fills her tone.
“Say it again.”
Her lips twitch into a grin. “I love?—”
My mouth crashes into hers, swallowing the rest of her words, keeping them all to myself. She clings to me like I’m hers. Her safety. Her husband. Her protector. Anything but a monster. My chest swells, and my hands run up her spine, holding the back of her neck and devouring her like it’s my very last time, but if what she says is true, it’s forever.
Even if I have to destroy my family’s name in the process.
thirty-three
CASSIA
I don’t know how long we stay on the couch, kissing one another like it’s doomsday, and in the last seconds of our lives, the only thing that makes sense is to lose ourselves in each other. It kills me that he thinks I was scared of him. He gave me a chance to leave, and the truth is, I’m probably naive. The thought of leaving him is akin to deep diving in the ocean without enough oxygen.
I’ve been running from love for so long, I forgot what it was like to be in the thrall. Our love is addictive. The fallout will destroy us both, but I can’t stop and I don’t want to. What I feel for Mace is unlike anything I’ve ever known. It’s soul deep, everything I’ve ever wanted, and more than that, everything I’ve ever needed.
When we finally break apart, I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his neck, breathing in his cologne, clutching his shirt. “Why aren’t you mad at me?”
“Should I be?” he murmurs, running his finger up my spine.
“The FBI?—”
“They’ve been after me for years.” He sighs and lifts a shoulder. “It’s nothing new. What are they holding over you?”
I bite my lip, wishing he was angry. It would be easier if he was pissed. Instead, I’m drowning in guilt over something he doesn’t seem to care about. “The wire transfer and something Rose and Dare helped me do.” For the sake of transparency, I take a breath and tell him about Rayce and Ryker.
“They absolutely deserved to die,” he tells me, misreading my hesitancy.
“I know, but somehow Paige has pictures, and she was using them against me.” I lean back. “I should have told you as soon as she approached me.”
He lifts a shoulder. “If I had been forced into a marriage with a man I hated, I probably would have done the same.”