Page 51 of Tortured Souls
I was broken the day he believed Diego and Leonard over me. I was truly and utterly broken. I tried to erase him from my mind, wipe clean the slate of who I was becoming, but then I realized something. If I were in his shoes and someone told me the man I was seeing was a spy for my enemy, would I have believed it too? Why would they say something like that?
It’s impossible to grow up in the worlds we’ve been born into without having concerns that not everyone is who they say they are. It’s ingrained in our psyche that the enemy is always closer than we think. We were taught to always look over our shoulders to ensure they don’t sneak up on you.
It would have made sense if I were a spy for my father. What better person to send across enemy lines than a woman who could use her sexuality to gain trust? It sounds like that perfect plot of a Mafia movie, but in all honesty, this is the world we livein. His club, my father’s club, rivals. It would have made sense. I don’t want to say I fully accept his apology, but I understand. It hurt me. Hell, it fucking killed me inside that he couldn’t trust me, but with time, building that trust is going to be crucial for the two of us to survive with each other. But hopefully not impossible.
Strong fingers thread through my long hair, pulling tight at the root, the sting a welcoming pain to the pleasure his mouth is giving me. That’s what Saxon is, a bit of pain mixed with a whole lot of pleasure, the tornado to my thunderstorm. The chaos of two oceans breaking waves against each other. While most people try to find peace in the person they’re with, Saxon and I are different. We fit each other’s chaos, creating a symphony of our own kind of peace.
“I’m sorry, tesoro. I’m sorry for everything.” His words hit me in the gut once again, and I hate how my eyes swell with unshed tears. I hate crying. I hate showing any type of vulnerability. Pulling my face from his, his large hand cups my face, and I squeeze my eyes shut so he can’t see what his words are doing to me.
“Look at me, baby.” I turn my face away from his, the sting beneath my eyelids growing and I know the moment I open them, tears will fall like rain.
“Don’t hide from me, Sky. You don’t have to do that anymore.” His other hand tightens in my hair as he prevents me from turning my head further.
“Look. At. Me.” I do. Sure enough, the second I open them, two large, fat tears cascade down my cheeks. He’s right there, his fingers at the ready to wipe them away as we stare into each other’s eyes. So much sits between us, so many words unspoken, but the silence is deafening. He trusts me and I him.
“Do you accept my apology, Sky?” he whispers, his forehead resting against mine. I want to hold strong. I want to bestubborn and tell him he has to prove just how sorry he really is. I want to prove my independence and how much of a badass I am. I want all these things, but when he looks at me with those eyes. Those dark, shadowy pools, the windows to his dark soul, I cave.
“Y-yes, but I don’t want to,” I whisper. My voice is raspy as I try to hold back a sob. His lips are on mine once again, and I melt into the man I never imagined falling for. The man I never should have fallen for. My dark king, who pushes me to my limits just to catch me if I fall. The man who, without question, followed me on my ridiculous journey to eliminate my enemies. The man my heart is currently beating for.
“Um, I’m sorry to break up this moment, but your time is up. Could you please exit the room and return your protective gear to the locker room on your way out? Thank you, and I’m sorry to interrupt.” The young girl’s innocent voice comes over the speaker, filling the room. We break from our kiss and smile at each other at the realization that we are, in fact, still in the rage room. Glass, ceramic, and broken electronics are scattered across the floor.
“Right, let’s get you home. We have a few things we need to talk about some more.” I know exactly what he’s referring to without even having to ask. Mack sent this man here for a reason, to stop me from leaving tomorrow and finishing my list once and for all. If he thought sending Saxon would stop me, he must not know me at all.Because nothing is going to stop me from doing this, not even him.
I don’t respond to Saxon. I follow him out of the room and begin removing my protective suit and hanging it back on the wall it came from. We head back to the lobby and see the slightly frightened girl behind the desk waiting for us.
“Again, I am so sorry to interrupt you. I ju—” Saxon cuts her off by lifting his hand in the air.
“No need to apologize. You’re doing your job. Thank you again.” Grabbing my hand in his, he pulls me to the exit, not giving me enough time to say thank you as he pulls me through the door to the parking lot.
“Geez, what’s the hurry? I couldn’t even tell her thank you.”
“I have a lot of making up to do, and I intend to start right now.” He pulls me into another kiss, and my lips open automatically for him, his tongue entering my mouth, making me moan against his lips. I squeeze my thighs together, feeling the effect this man has on my body with only a simple kiss. I pull back from him, not wanting to turn into a puddle of mush right here in Uptown Rage Room’s parking lot.
“We should go. Take this somewhere else,” I say to him, catching my breath from the whirlwind of emotions we keep turning up between us.
“Follow me to mine?” I ask, but he’s already nodding in agreement as he kisses me once again before leading me to my car. Good, because I have a few things I need to grab from my old apartment. After opening my door and helping me in, he leans into my car and grabs me by the nape of my neck.
“I’ll be right behind you.” I nod, and before releasing me, he kisses my forehead in a tender gesture that makes my chest heat. Starting my car, I watch as he walks around the building, and I wait until I hear the unmistakable sound of his motorcycle starting up and coming into view. I pull out of the parking lot and watch as he follows behind me as we head toward Vice together.
The moment I pick up speed on the highway, my gut twists and turns as the last two months come crashing down on me. Two months. Two long fucking months of assembling this final attack against my father. Two months of meticulous and precise planning, and for what? For Mack to have told Saxon, who will undoubtedly try to change my mind. Everything I’ve beenworking on—not only for two months, but since arriving in Golden Heights two years ago—is about to be flushed down the drain because Saxon thinks it’s too dangerous.
I look in my rearview mirror at him. He’s going to try to stop me, or at the very least, make me wait for him and some of his crew to come along and assist in my crazy plan. Sometimes a strong man can’t allow their ego to step aside and allow their woman to do the dangerous work. It may not be ego so much as his pride, but I’m Skylar fucking Sagan. If I don’t do this myself, will I ever find the peace I need to move on? Will I ever find the path to happiness so I can live my life by my terms, past trauma be damned? I need to do this for me and me alone.
I know he won’t let me go by myself. I know it won’t be an easy discussion, but one way or another, this plan will be executed according to my plan. I have my ways.
When we finally make it back to Vice, I head for my apartment door and freeze with the key in the air. After everything, I had forgotten that I haven’t even been living here for the past two months. I’ve been at Mack’s cabin. What does this apartment even look like now? Why am I here? I’d been moving on autopilot. I hadn’t even thought about Saxon cleaning out this space once I left. He didn’t even stop me when I ascend the stairs to this door. Why didn’t he stop me?
“Open the door, baby?” My hands are trembling as I fit my key in the door and twist the knob. Pushing the door open, I stand in the doorway, jaw slack and mind frozen. Nothing has changed. Absolutely nothing.
“Saxon, why hav?—”
“Deep down, I hoped I’d wake up, and you’d still be here. The moment the elevator doors closed, I knew I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.” Turning around, I see his head is down, guilt and shame written all over his usually stoic face. “Call me a coward, a pussy, a grade A asshole, because that’s exactly who Iam. I should have followed you, stopped you from leaving, but I didn’t, and I can’t tell you how sorry I fucking am.”
I step towards him, grabbing his hand and pulling him through the doorway. Everything he said is true. He should have believed me instead of immediately jumping to conclusions. I should be mad at him and make him feel terrible about the way he treated me. I should, but I don’t. Not 100 percent. I don’t want this hanging over our heads any longer. Two months is a long time, and I don’t want to be angry with him anymore.
“If I had been in your shoes, I would have done the same thing. Blame it on the club and the way we were raised, but stop allowing the guilt to weigh you down. I forgive you, I understand, and I still want you. I’m still pissed at you, but I forgive you.” I step closer to him so he’s now looking down at me.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, tesoro.” I give him a small smile.