Page 35 of Darkest Before Dawn (His Perfect Darkness #2)

I press my lips to her temple, unable to keep from kissing her before answering, “We got evidence that Burgess was the one who left the birds in your apartment. A neighbor saw him leaving that night. One of my team canvassed the neighborhood and got her to make the ID.” All my tech and an old-fashioned eyewitness broke the case.

“Hamish reported it just as we realized you texted Ivan that you were headed to a crime scene with Burgess.”

She coughs, and I fumble for a water bottle. This car is state-of-the-art, with turbo engines and anti-surveillance technology, but it needs more cup holders.

Once she drinks some water, I find wet wipes so we can clean some grit off our faces.

“I can’t believe Burgess was involved in this. I should’ve known.”

“We’ll look into it.” I tuck a strand of damp hair behind her ear and brush more debris off her head. I can’t stop touching her.

“His body. . .?” she trails off.

“Gone.” No need for a clean-up crew now. The explosions took care of that.

I’ll still have to reckon with Inara’s distress over killing a cop. I have zero moral qualms over Burgess’s death. He threatened her. He professed to be working with the Bondage Killer. Whatever his plan, he had her locked up in a place rigged to explode.

“Burgess said, ‘He wanted me to trap you.’ He was talking about Dennis Bundy. Did the Bondage Killer set those bombs?”

“I don’t know.” I have the world’s best explosives engineers working at Knight Corp, my PMC. I’ll offer their expertise to the NRPD to make sure we get a thorough analysis of the scene. “We’ll find out.”

“Why would he make the building explode like that? All his kills have been up close and personal.” Her teeth are chattering again. I instruct the car to increase the interior temperature.

“I’m usually able to hold it together better than this,” Inara says between shivers.

Is she really beating herself up for having an emotional reaction to all this? “You were betrayed by a man you thought you could trust.”

She snorts, and I amend my statement. “You thought he would have your back as a fellow cop.”

“I always knew he was rotten. But this. . .”

“You couldn’t have foreseen this.”

She jolts as if unnerved. She licks her lips, her gaze darting to my face and then away. There’s something she wants to tell me, but she’s still holding back. . .

“You don’t have to hide from me,” I say.

It addresses her earlier statement and applies to whatever she’s reluctant to share with me now.

“You don’t have to hold yourself together.

Not around me.” Whatever she’s feeling, I can hold the space for it.

If she breaks down, I’ll hold her tight and then help dry her tears.

“I want to be here for you if you’ll let me. ”

“Rex, I. . .” Once again, her voice trails off.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” And she doesn’t. I’ll wait as long as she lets me. “When you’re ready, you can tell me what you need to.” As long as I can hold her, I have everything I could ever want, right here.

Inara

I’m falling from a great height. The blast seared me, but now the air is soft and sweet, embracing my face.

Death is calling me. “Inara. . .”

“Inara,” Rex snarls. He’s gripping both my arms, his eyes wild. Water is streaming down both our faces.

We’re in the shower, washing the grit of the explosion off each other.

I’ve had visions during the day before, but only in the most tense moments of a case. I guess surviving an explosion is as intense as it gets.

“I’m here,” I say. I find Rex’s hands and grip them.

“You went somewhere.” He fumbles for the shower handle, and it takes a few tries for him to turn off the water. I’ve never seen him so clumsy.

“I’m okay.” The words are heavy on my tongue. I’m not okay. I haven’t been for a long time. But at this moment, with Rex, I feel more stable.

“I’ll call the doctor back.” After the explosion, Rex took me straight back to the hotel. We entered via the private elevator, as usual, and a doctor named Atticus met us in our private rooms. Rex had contacted him, and he insisted on looking us over immediately to check for signs of a concussion.

“No. . . it’s not that. I’m fine.” It’s not a head injury. It’s my visions, intruding in my waking moments. I need to tell him about them. I’m ready, but I can’t find the words.

“Okay. But the next time it happens, I’m calling Atticus.” He cups my cheeks in his calloused hands, looking grim. I try to force a smile, but it drops away.

“We almost died,” I say instead. We’re naked in the shower together, with nothing between us. More than that, we’ve connected in so many ways.

He’s shown me all of him.

I want to show him all of me.

“I know.” Water drips from his brow, sliding down his cheeks like a tear. His face is a harsh but cold composition, his incredible beauty another sort of armor. But the more he looks at me, the softer his gaze becomes.

“It was so close.”

“Inara. . .”

“I don’t want you to die.” There’s a knife driving down my breastbone, opening me up. The water sliding down my face is real tears. “I?—”

“Shhh, I know.” A smile breaks over his face, pure joy like a brilliant sunrise lighting up the heavens. He thumbs what he just knows are tears from my cheeks. “I know. But I was grateful for one thing.”

“What?”

“If the explosion had happened when we were both inside. . .” His head drops under the weight of what he’s about to say. “We would’ve gone together.”

My mouth opens, and I shake on a silent sob.

“I would’ve been with you. And that’s all I want. To be with you.”

I lean into him, sobbing full out now, and he bows further, pressing his temple to mine. He holds me close, gentle, treating me like I’m delicate. And I am.

I’m so fragile, so broken, but this? This makes me feel real. Maybe the pain inside won’t poison me fully. Maybe I can let it out while he holds me together.

“I feel so weak,” I whisper.

“No. You’re the strongest person I know.”

And then I surge to my tiptoes, pressing against the strong wall of his chest. I find his lips, needing more connection. His mouth meets mine, but instead of consuming me, he sips, tasting my watered-down tears. It’s not enough and I grow frantic, clawing at his shoulders, trying to climb him.

“I need you,” I gasp into his mouth.

“I know.” He lifts me up but keeps kissing me gently. Passion claws at my throat, but it’s not for sex. It’s for this, the closeness. His palms cup my ass, and I twine my legs around him, but he just holds me up. Holds me against him so I feel all of him. “I have you.”

I let my head fall to the crook of his neck and shoulder. He rocks me a little.

“I have you, Inara.” And he does. I am lifted and loved.

Life is so hard. We’re born out of darkness and struggle in the sun until it’s time to die. There’s so much suffering, so much pain.

But there’s also love. And that can be enough. Even when the night comes, love will be enough.

“Please. . . call me ‘little bird’ again.”

His shoulders and head relax, collapsing toward me even as his arms remain strong. I let myself go limp, too. I don’t need to carry anything.

“I want to be with you,” I tell him, and it’s so easy. It’s the easiest thing I’ve done. “By your side. I can’t lose you, either.”

“You won’t, little bird. You won’t.”

Rex

I feel like I’m flying. I carry Inara from the shower to the bedroom. We’re soaking wet, but I want to lay her out, examine her for myself. Kiss every bruise, reassure myself that her heart beats and her lungs breathe. Worship her as she deserves.

She looks at me like she’s seeing me for the first time. Her fingers dig into my hair, pushing it back from my face. “My king.”

I almost fall to my knees. I’m so overcome with everything I’m feeling, everything she is.

“Little bird.” I stagger to the bed and sink down, keeping her in my lap. I’m hard, aching to be inside her, but I don’t need sex right now. I need to hold her. “My Inara.”

She’s still crying but somehow smiling. I grip her tighter when she begins to shake, but she lets her head fall back, laughing.

“Oh, gods.” She straddles me, still combing her fingers through my hair, gazing down at me like she’s content to simply marvel that I’m here.

My dick is folded between us, and it’s painful, but the pain feels good.

Desire’s like a shot of whiskey burning down my throat, reminding me I’m alive.

I wait for her to kiss me, but she cups me close and wrinkles her nose when she looks at the bed. “We made a wet spot.”

“First of many.” I grin and nuzzle her jaw.

We’re going to wreck the whole bed together as soon as I’m sure she’s steady.

She’s gone from crying to laughing in mere seconds, and I want to make sure she’s okay.

I’ll wait for her to confess what she’s feeling and get what she needs off her chest. I’ll wait forever. It’s enough to hold her like this.

She glances to the side and sees my phone lighting up. “Someone’s calling you.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Let the world fall apart. I’ll just keep holding her.

“You should probably get it. We just survived an explosion. There’s going to be questions.” I see the moment reality creeps in. She sobers, but her face is still lighter. Unburdened. “Repercussions.”

I run through the list in my head. Burgess—dead. The Bondage Killer—still out there. Hotel room—secure. Inara—with me.

She’s with me. Finally. Nothing else matters. “We’ll deal with them. Together.”

“I know.” She touches her fingers to either side of my chin. The lightest of touches that coaxes my face up to hers. She doesn’t kiss me, just hovers close, letting her breath mingle with mine. “We have to figure out what to do.”

“We will,” I say to reassure her. Then I surge up, flipping her over. I lay her out on a dry part of the bed and stretch over her, planting a knee on either side of her legs. “But I know what I want to do right now.”