Page 22 of The Sinner’s Touch (Manwhore #2)
“Trust me, kid, if I can do it, you’re gonna be a pro. And you won’t be by yourself. Kade or no Kade, you and me,” his index finger went back and forth between them, “we’re stuck with each other. I got your back. Always. We’re gonna get through this together.”
“I love you, Peter.”
“I love you too, Shortcake.”
She snorted, and a stream of snot shot out, making Peter curse when it landed on his shirt. He hadn’t called her that since she was little. She used to love Strawberry Shortcake, and with her red hair, it was Peter’s nickname for her.
“Nugget’s going to love you too.”
“Nugget?” He looked down at her curiously.
“The baby. I’ve been calling it Nugget since I took the damn test.”
“Nugget. It’s not a bad name until we figure out if it’s a boy or a girl.” He moved to help her off his lap, and she cried out when he grabbed her arm. His face paled. “Shit, Angel, your arm is purple, and it’s swelling.”
“I think that happens when someone smashes a door into one’s arm.”
“Well, fuck. Let’s get you to the emergency room and make sure it’s not broken. We can get you a blood test there too. Sometimes those pregnancy tests are wrong.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, a girlfriend of mine had a scare a while back. She took three, and they all said she was pregnant, but her blood test was negative.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You were about twelve at the time. I didn’t tell you everything.”
“I don’t think the test is wrong. My period’s late, two months.”
“It’s gonna be fine. Really. You, me, and the nugget. We got each other’s backs. Promise.”
Listening to Kade, Nikoli, and Victor made Angel think of her own brother.
She never let herself think about Peter.
She buried memories of him as much as she did those of Kade and the nugget.
The pain was too much. The only way she’d survived it was to lock it all away, to push it down and refuse to let herself think about any of it.
It made her colder, harsher, bitchier. She knew that, but it was how she survived.
She heard Nikoli and Lily downstairs. He refused to leave until Kade came home. Angel didn’t have the energy to fight with him. She came upstairs instead and curled up on the bed, her knees hugged against her chest.
She cried. For the first time since Peter’s funeral, she cried for him. His memory was burned in hers, and even though it hurt to think about him, she let herself. Being that near to siblings cracked the vault, and Peter forced his way out. God, how she missed him.
He’d taken all her fear, balled it up in brotherly love, and tossed it away. Being pregnant, barely legal, and unsure of herself scared the hell out of her back then. He’d made her believe she could do it, that she’d be a good mama. He gave her strength, courage, and resolve.
Right now, Peter would tell her to stop feeling sorry for herself, to get up and kick ass.
But he wasn’t here to tell her anything.
And she couldn’t make herself move. It was all too much. Her walls were cracking, great chunks of the concrete in the dam around her heart falling down into the raging waters of her emotions swirling back to life.
She blamed Kade. Everything was fine when she’d been able to shut off her emotions, to pretend nothing was wrong.
He wouldn’t let her. He didn’t even mean to do it, he just did.
He was the only man she’d ever loved. Her heart ached for him, for what they’d had.
Her body craved his touch. It refused to behave like a good little soldier.
Like today when he’d rushed in, scared to death. There had been real fear in his eyes, concern. For her. When he walked away from her, he said he’d never loved her, that it had all been a part of the job. He’d needed her to get close to Peter. The baby had just been collateral damage.
Collateral damage.
She slammed her fist into the mattress. Her anger burned bright, but it couldn’t outshine the fear she’d seen today. It reminded her of the same fear when he’d come to the hospital. Peter told him she’d had an accident, and he’d rushed into her hospital room much the same way he had today.
He was a hell of an actor to pull that off. Part of her refused to believe she meant nothing to him, the part that held out the last vestiges of hope. Maybe he cared, maybe he’d always cared.
Then why the fuck would he say such awful things to her and then walk away? He walked away from us, not the other way around.
A knock broke the solitude of her room, and when the door opened, she didn’t need to look to know who it was.
His scent haunted her. She’d know it anywhere.
The bed dipped, and she tensed. Why was he here?
What did he want? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?
All she wanted was to not have to feel anything, to be able to get up and face the day without a pain so deep it physically hurt to move cutting away at her.
That was what Kade and the memory of them was to her.
Pain and grief and rage. It hurt so much.
The only way she could live was to forget it all; her survival depended on it.
Only how could she do that when he was right there?
When he smelled like everything she’d associated with love?
He smelled of home, and she couldn’t lie to herself anymore.
She loved him. God, she loved this man so much.
The man who’d destroyed her life, and she still loved him.
He couldn’t ever know. He’d destroyed her once. She wouldn’t let him do it again. Her inner voice laughed at her. She knew the truth. She’d never been able to resist him.
She heaved a sob as another wave of despair and pain wracked her, and he moved. He crawled up the bed and pulled her against him. He didn’t say anything. He just held her while she cried. She cried and cried. She cried for Peter, she cried for the nugget, she cried for the man she loved.
She cried.