CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Raina
L eave. Leave. I have to leave.
I hear the words in my head and then see them on Connor’s face.
“No.” Connor shakes his head. “You are only safe here with me.”
Noel and Valdrin want me dead. I’m not safe anywhere. That truth twists my entire life into knots.
I summon my strength. “I don’t belong here,” I mutter through dry lips.
“You belong with me, ” Connor says, velvet-wrapped in steel.
My stomach flips, and I welcome the discomfort after a major asthma attack. Any amount of pain is better than suffocating.
“Why?” I ask quietly. “How can you know that?”
“Jesus, Venom. How can you not see it?” His fingers grip the messy strands of hair plastered against my damp forehead.
“From the first night I fucked you, you got under my skin. I didn’t even know your name, but I was already obsessed with you.
” His voice drops, rough and low. “I’d been looking for you.
I would’ve found you eventually. Tied to the Albanians sent to kill me or not. ”
A lump settles in my throat. “Connor.”
“I would have preferred you not come with the complication. But fuck it, my life is boring. You certainly shook things up.” A humorless laugh breaks from his chest as he leans in, lips pressed to my temple. “You’re perfect for me. The way you fight. The way you think. The way you feel. ”
A garbled sound echoes in my throat, but I don’t know if it’s a laugh, a sob, or one more gulp of air. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough. ” He roughly exhales, his anger softening into something raw. “And I’m falling for you.”
Something inside me snaps . Tears well up, hot and burning, and before I can stop them, they’re spilling down my cheeks. The smile of satisfaction that he broke through to me is tame, considering the feat it is to bring me to my knees.
But Connor is the one on his knees in front of me.
“Please trust me, Raina.” His hands wrap around my waist.
“It’s hard to trust anyone, Connor.” I bite my lip, my body trembling.
“Then trust us. I know it’s too soon.”
Something screams inside my head to believe him. I finally hoarsely whisper, “I’m trying.”
We stay tangled on his floor, our breath mingling, our chests rising and falling for what feels like hours. His phone never stops ringing, and both Rhys and Trace knock on his bedroom door to see if I’m okay.
The genuine concern in their voices pulls me through the darkness.
But lying here, listening to voices who shouldn’t care but somehow do, cracks something open in me.
I have nothing left. Again, I’m stripped of everything from my own tragic choices. Starting over seems like a mountain to climb, but maybe, just maybe, being with Connor is where I start that journey again.