25. Arnaz
ARNAZ
M y breath pounds against my ribs as I sink through the floor.
“Are you okay?” His voice cracks as he pulls out and kisses the inside of my thigh.
I suck in a breath.
For the first time in weeks, I feel inside of my body.
He removes the condom and ties it before tossing it in the wastebasket.
I groan.
His gaze shoots to me. “It hurts?”
“No.” I swallow.
I just imagined what that dick down would have felt like raw.
Terrifying.
I barely survived tonight.
Fuck my life. I know what Salem The Silencer feels like inside me.
If the nighttime internet stalking was bad before...
But it felt like he was letting go.
“Hey—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“Should I stop holding out for you?”
A hoarse “No” is trapped in my chest as I shoot to sit up.
He was letting go.
But that was the first time I let someone make love to me.
At least, I think that’s what that was.
I always thought when it happened, it’d feel just like that—like getting off wasn’t the goal.
“Is it just sex for you?” he asks. “Is that why you disappear after?”
What? “You were there. You saw what I saw.”
His brows draw together. “There, where?”
“At my sister’s. With my family.”
“I’m not following.” He shifts closer. “Why would what I saw make you disappear?”
“Why would it make you stay?” It’s out before I can mask it with something less direct.
“You and your family are going through a rough patch. Why?—”
“No.” I shake my head. “It’s not a rough patch. It’s been that way my whole life.”
“What?”
I look away, drawing in a deep breath. “Carter was always Carter, but he got worse when he got injured and was forced into retirement.”
“Worse, how? Did he hit you?”
I stand, grabbing my tee and briefs, and put them on. “That would have been too direct for him.” I cross the room and stare out the window. “Mind games, mood swings, and insults were his weapons of choice.” I shrug. “He drank a lot and reminded me I was a piece of shit every chance he got.”
“Christ. What about your mom?”
“What about her?”
“She couldn’t stop him? Take you away from him?”
“She didn’t. She was checked out. Threw herself into work. They fought a lot. She worked hard to keep up appearances—at least to keep us together in the public eye.”
“That’s messed up.”
“That’s fame.”
“That’s bullshit.” His voice gets closer. “I’m so sorry.”
I lean my head against his shoulder.
“But I need to understand.” He kisses my temple. “Why would you think I would want you to disappear on me?”
“It went from you asking me over to hook up, to us sleeping at my sister’s, then being stuck in the middle of our bullshit. That’s…a lot.”
“So?”
I turn my head and glare at him. “So?”
“Who said I can’t handle a lot?”
I pull out of his arms. “Why would you want to?”
“You know why. Have I not been clear?”
I step back.
There it is again…risen chest, iron back, pledge of quiet sacrifice.
“How do you do it? How do you walk this earth so sure the ground won’t cave in?” I don’t wait for an answer. “I’m cold. I’m gonna take a shower.”
“Hold on.”
I’m already walking away.
“I said, hold on.” His arm wraps around my waist. “I will fuck you all night if it means breaking through so you can hear this. I want you. All of you. I will keep the ground from caving in for both of us if you let me.”
“You can’t.”
“I will give my last breath trying.”
“No. I don’t want that.”
“Baby.”
My body trembles, knees threatening to collapse at that word coated in his earnest voice.
“If there’s anything you fear, it’s not the ground…” He rubs the goose bumps on my arms. “It’s your walls you’re afraid of losing.”
He doesn’t know that.
He can’t.
“I’m a grown man,” he says, releasing me. “I don’t need you to make decisions for me. If you run, do it because you need to.”
I hear the clank of his belt buckle, and I swear I feel the floor quake under my feet.
“Don’t go,” I whisper, turning around to face him.
He pauses with one arm through his shirt. “You sure?”
“You can shower first.” I gesture to my bag. “Borrow something.”
His shoulders lower. “It’s okay. You go first. I need to text my GM that I’ll meet the team in Sacramento in the morning.”
I want to believe it’s no big deal, telling him about my family, but after trying to scrub the feeling off, it still feels like someone’s stolen my skin.
I reach into my bag for a sweatshirt to throw over my tee.
After he showers, he climbs into bed next to me, wearing my T-shirt and shorts.
“You know, pain is nothing to be ashamed of.”
“What?” I ask.
“I have an older brother, and he has a lot of pain. He tries to keep it from us, like it’s an infectious virus.”
I didn’t know he has a brother. And the level of internet stalking I’ve done should get me on a short list for the CIA.
“What happened to him?”
“He was in the Marines.”
“Oh. Are you close?”
“Close in the only way he knows how to be. I’ll never stop trying, though.”
“Yeah, sounds like you.”