Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
GRAYSON
The way she’s looking at me is something that I don’t deserve, not in the slightest.
She should be curling her lip in disgust at the man I am, not be wide-eyed and pouty-lipped.
I want to kiss every single inch of her as my way of apologizing for what happened to her, what I allowed to happen.
I may not have done that disgusting shit to her body, but I agreed to using her as bait to draw Landon out.
I agreed to allow her to move freely without being monitored as closely as she had been, so yeah, this shit is all my fault, and she will never convince me otherwise.
“Grayson, come to bed.”
She repeats her words, and they make my stomach roll.
The thought of my unworthy filth climbing into bed beside her makes me want to throw up.
Shaking my head again, I open my mouth to tell her that I’m going to take the couch.
“If you sleep on the couch, I’ll just follow you, and I think it might be too uncomfortable for me, but I’ll do it.”
Her threat is cute, but also, I don’t want her to be in any more pain than I’m sure she is already in.
“I’m going to take a shower. Do you need anything?”
She shakes her head, her eyes staying focused on mine before she speaks.
Her words come out soft and barely above a whisper, but they feel like a punch to my gut.
“Just you, Grayson.”
Fuck.
“You’re all I need.”
I move toward her.
I know that I have blood still covering my face and body, but I don’t care.
Sinking down on the side of the bed, beside her hip, I lift my hands to cup her cheeks before I shift my head closer.
Touching my forehead against hers, I close my eyes and just feel her breath wash over my face.
Her breathing quickens, and I want to kiss her.
I want to touch my mouth to hers, slide my tongue inside of her and taste her.
But I refrain.
“Grayson,” she exhales.
I could listen to her say my name over and over in any type of way and never grow tired of it.
Sucking in a breath, I hold it for a moment, knowing that I can’t kiss her.
I can’t take this any further, no matter how badly I want to.
Shifting backward, I let my hands fall from her cheeks before I stand.
“I need a quick shower. I’ll be back.”
I leave her alone.
I know I’ll be sleeping beside her tonight and any other night she needs it, I’ll protect her with my life until the day I die, but we can never be together again.
Stepping into the bathroom, I turn on the water to warm up the shower and think about the future.
It’s not that I think anything is wrong with Nadine.
I fell for her before I knew a single thing about her past, and knowing what I do, it hasn’t changed anything.
But she’s been through so much, and my appetites will only harm her further.
She doesn’t need me choking her.
She doesn’t need me taking her ass.
She doesn’t need it, and as someone who has been through everything she has and possibly more, the last thing I want to do is harm her further.
The entire time I wash the blood from my body, I think about Nadine.
And by the time I’m finished, I feel even more solid about my decision.
She’ll live with me.
She’ll be my woman.
But she will never share my bed again.
I will protect her forever because I do love her, but we can’t be together again.
We’ll be wedded roommates.
Everything that is mine will be hers, and if something were to ever happen to me, she can have the protection of my estate.
Every fucking ounce of money, property, everything.
Because if nothing else, Nadine deserves to live in peace.
No wonder I was so attracted to her.
She’s a kindred soul.
I just didn’t realize that she needed me for more than a lover.
Now I know, and I will protect her and her gentle heart until the day I die.
NADINE
Something has shifted between us, and I don’t like it.
Unfortunately, as much as I don’t like it, I anticipated it.
Maybe I put it in the atmosphere or something, but it’s here, and I need Grayson to tell me exactly what he saw.
I need to assure him that I’m okay and that everything is going to be okay between us.
I’m not irreversibly damaged.
I have been through so much more than anything that Landon could have even attempted to do in those few hours he had me.
But Grayson obviously sees me differently now, and it makes me feel physically ill.
I have secretly yearned for him from afar for years.
Even living in that safe house, being so close and yet so far away from him, my feelings never wavered.
Then I got him.
It was perfection.
I don’t want him to see me any differently, and I thought he didn’t.
I told him more than I’d ever told anyone else about what happened to me at Landon’s hands.
Now that he’s seen it with his own eyes, the depravity of my husband, everything has changed.
God, just thinking about Landon as my husband makes me physically ill.
Thinking about Grayson seeing it and feeling disgusted with me, refusing to talk to me, to touch me…
The bathroom door opens, and I watch as Grayson makes his way toward the bed wearing a pair of athletic shorts and no shirt.
I should not be ogling him, but I can’t help myself.
He’s beautiful.
His muscles gleam in the glow of the moon.
Hands down, he is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life.
I wait for him to drop his shorts, anticipating the moment he stands beside the bed in nothing but his boxer briefs, but he doesn’t.
It doesn’t happen.
Instead, he climbs into bed beside me, beneath the sheets, his shorts in place.
Taking the moment to gently glide down the bed myself, I rest my head against the pillow, staring at the ceiling.
I’m not sure how long we lie there in silence, both of us focused straight ahead at the white paint.
“Grayson,” I call out softly.
He doesn’t say anything.
I almost think he didn’t hear me, but I know better.
He is just ignoring me, refusing to speak to me.
Whatever the case, he says nothing.
Turning my head, I look at him, seeing his profile, his face focused straight upward.
Still, he’s absolutely gorgeous, breathtakingly so.
I should just be appreciative that he wanted anything to do with me the few times he did.
He could have anyone.
Slowly, he turns his head, and his eyes find mine.
“I’m okay,” I say softly.
He hums but continues to keep quiet, so I repeat the words insistently.
“Grayson, I am okay.”
“I know you are,” he murmurs.
“But I’m not.”
Those words slam into me.
They cause every fiber of my being to ache.
Tears prick my eyes before they roll down my cheeks.
I reach out, and my fingers tremble as I touch the center of his chest.
He doesn’t say anything, but his body tenses at my touch, and I hate it.
“Talk to me.”
He wraps his fingers around my wrist as he holds me, keeping me from moving.
“We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Tomorrow .
I don’t want to talk tomorrow.
I want to talk right now.
Pushing up slightly so I can look down at him, I wait for his gaze to find mine.
He doesn’t say anything as his eyes search mine.
I decide to lay it all out on the line.
If I don’t, I know that tomorrow he’s going to break this off and be done with me by morning—he’ll probably be done with me by morning anyway.
I should be happy for the few moments we had, but I’m selfish.
I want more.
I want him forever.
“You’re disgusted by what you saw. Grayson, I don’t even know what he did to me. And even if I did, it doesn’t matter. I’m still the same person I was before he kidnapped me.”
Inhaling a deep breath, I hold it for a moment before I continue, and I hold it because the next words I say hurt.
“I’ve been dirty since he took me, and you liked me just fine. But you’ve seen it now, and you want nothing to do with me. I’m sure it’s seared into your mind, and I can understand that. How can I expect you to want anything to do with me anymore? I don’t know, but I wish you still wanted me.”
I know I’m rambling.
But I can’t stop myself.
The words just pour out of me, and by the time I’m finished, a fresh wave of tears slides down my cheeks.
I hate this.
I hate myself, but mostly, I despise Landon Tate.
I despise the man who ruined me for any other man on earth.
Because clearly, I am indeed ruined.
Grayson’s brows snap together, then his eyes widen.
“You think that I don’t want you because you are somehow tainted?” he asks.
I almost roll my eyes to the ceiling and let out a heavy sigh.
“I am tainted,” I say.
He chuckles, squeezing my wrist with his fingers.
“So am I.”
I’m not sure what else he’s going to say.
I don’t expect him to continue, because he’s said this before, but it’s been dropped, and the conversation has shifted.
Before I can respond, he continues speaking.
He tells me the most horrific story I’ve ever heard in my entire life.
If I thought what happened to me was bad, then what happened to him and the other men from Securus was and is indescribable.