Page 137 of Ruthless Creatures

“Say it anyway.”

I exhale a hard breath. “Okay. The thing is, when I don’t hear from you for days at a time, I worry. You live a dangerous life. I have no way of knowing from one day to the next if you’re… if anything has happened to you. And if it had, I’d never find out. It would be like…”

When I pause to gather my thoughts, he says simply, “Your fiancé.”

Of course he’d know. He always knows what I’m feeling. I squeeze my eyes shut, emotion welling in my chest.

“I promise I’ll touch base every day from now on.”

Hiding my face in his neck, I whisper, “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be a pain in the ass.”

“No, I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I should’ve realized how hard it would be for you. That not hearing from me would remind you of what happened with him.”

He swallows and tightens his arms around my body. When he speaks again, his voice is husky. “Tell me you forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

I can tell his mind is going a million miles per hour, that his mouth is crowded with words fighting to come out, but after a long, tense pause, all he says is, “Yes, there is.”

His tone is so dark and chilling it scares me. My intuition buzzes, sending a cold tingle down my spine.

“Is there?”

He doesn’t speak for so long, I start hyperventilating. Every horrible thing he could’ve possibly done that would require my forgiveness flashes through my mind.

And every one of them involves another woman.

I lift my head and stare at his profile. He’s gazing up at the ceiling, his jaw flexing.

“Kage?”

He turns his head and meets my eyes. His expression is unfathomable. His voice thick, he says, “I’ve done terrible things, Natalie. Things I can never undo. Things you would hate me for if you knew about them.”

My heart thundering in panic, I try to roll off him. He doesn’t let me. His arms are a vise.

Voice shaking, I say, “There’s someone else. Is that what you’re telling me?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Because it sounds like—”

“I’m yours until the day I die,” he interrupts, his voice hard. “You wear my ring. You own my heart. Never question that.”

I examine his expression. Convinced he’s telling the truth, I relax a little. But, still. What is he saying?

Hesitant, I say, “Do you want to tell me about these things you’ve done?”

“Fuck no.” He closes his eyes and huffs out a small, hard laugh. “And that’s what makes me such a selfish bastard.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m confused. It really seems like you want to tell me something.”

He inhales deeply, his chest rising. He exhales. When he speaks again, he sounds a hundred years old. “Forget it.”

A freezing bolt of terror rips through my chest, leaving a hole where my heart used to be. In a small, strangled voice, I say, “Oh god. Your boss found you a wife. You’re getting married.”

His eyes fly open. He stares at me in horror. “No! Natalie, no. I swear to you. Christ, I’m sorry, baby. That’s not what I’m talking about at all.”

He kisses me, hard, holding my jaw and the back of my head as I lie on top of him, trembling. Then he rolls me over and throws one heavy leg over both of mine.