Beyond the Breaking Point - Lori Sjoberg Page 0,90
DEA so they could determine the full extent of the damage and take corrective measures.
Empathy softened Hope’s eyes. “He was your mentor. You were playing on the same team. It only made sense to trust him.”
“Yeah, and look what that got me.” The delicious meal he’d just enjoyed now felt like a rock in his gut. “Look what it got Carmen.”
All because he’d been a sucker.
“I’m sorry.” She leaned forward and laid her hand over his. “I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better.”
“There’s nothing to say. It is what it is and nothing can ever change that. I only wish Carmen hadn’t paid the price for my stupidity.” His gaze flicked up, meeting hers, and something stirred inside him that was becoming all too familiar. Unnerved by the sensation, he ruthlessly shoved it aside and slid his hand away from hers. “I should have known better. One of the first lessons he ever taught me was to trust no one.”
“That’s a lonely way to live.”
“Yeah, but at least you stay alive.”
“Do you trust Austin?”
That was a no-brainer. “Of course. He’s family.”
“How about Jackson and Navarre?”
Honestly, he’d never consciously considered it before, but now that he did, he wasn’t happy with the answer. “No, but Austin trusts them. That’ll have to be good enough for now.”
Her lips flattened. “Then you definitely don’t trust me.”
She was right; it shamed him. He averted his gaze. “Nothing personal.”
“That’s about as personal as it gets.” She leaned back against her chair. “You trusted Carmen.”
“I loved her.”
She flinched as though she’d been slapped. When she spoke, her voice sounded more brittle than a cold, thin sheet of glass. “And I’m just a tool in your arsenal.”
His heart stuttered at the hurt in her eyes, and it pained him to know he’d put it there. Needing to make things right, he said, “That’s not what I meant.”
But that was exactly how he’d treated her since they met in that bar in Viento Tranquilos, and it dragged on his conscience like an anchor. Somewhere along the line, she’d become a lot more than an asset to him. He liked her as a person, enjoyed her company. And yes, damn it, he was attracted to her. His body practically hummed whenever she entered his orbit, and even when she wasn’t around, she lingered in his thoughts.
But that dark and damaged part of his soul refused to trust her completely, and he had no idea how to fix it.
“Of course that’s what you meant.” Hope stabbed the last piece of steak with her fork; it was a wonder the plate didn’t shatter. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Tiny. I’m a big girl; I can handle the truth. Message received, loud and clear.”
They ate dessert in stony silence, and with each passing second Wade felt the gulf between them growing until it was deeper and wider than the Grand Canyon. For the life of him, he didn’t know how to fix this, probably because it was him that was broken.
Eyes hard and jaw set, Hope pushed her empty plate aside and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “It’s late. I’m tired. I think it’s best if you leave.”
“Fucking idiot,” Wade muttered as he stalked into the room he shared with Austin and slammed the door behind him. Thankfully, his brother wasn’t around, most likely still out with Jackson and Navarre. He hoped they stayed out awhile longer, because he needed time alone to think and he wasn’t in the mood for brotherly advice.
Restless and edgy, he paced the room. Dinner with Hope replayed in his mind, and he mentally kicked himself when he got to the part where he’d stomped all over her feelings. That hadn’t been his intention. To the contrary, she was one of the few people whose feelings he actually gave a damn about. She had all the qualities he loved in a woman: smart, caring, passionate, independent, and unbelievably beautiful, with a sense of humor that showed she didn’t take herself too seriously.
But could he trust her? That was the million-dollar question. He wanted to, he really did, but first he had to find a way over that mountain of baggage in his mind.
Jaw clenched, Wade shoved his hand into his pants pocket and drew out the small silver cross he’d carried with him wherever he went for the past four years. The sight of it made his eyes burn. Gently, he smoothed his thumb over the polished metal.