like her heart had been taken from her chest and gently placed in her arms. I pictured Saffie holding onto Phebe. And I thought of all the women who had just welcomed me with no judgment into their circle. I considered what they had already been through. The cult, Sia in Mexico with Garcia . . . Saffie with my father.
And I knew I couldn’t let them be hurt further because of me.
I had to protect them now too.
Styx raised his hands, and all the men watched him. It was incredible the respect Styx garnered from his brothers. The silent, imposing man didn’t need loudly barked orders. The simple movement of his hands got his message through clearly enough.
“Church, in one hour,” Ky said, reading Styx’s hands for those, like me, who didn’t understand sign. Tanner exhaled a long, relieved breath beside me. And I understood what that meant. They were going to devise a plan so I could stay here with Tanner.
They were going to fight Diego.
Tanner pulled me from the bar and took me straight to his room. When the door was shut, he pushed me against the back of the door and put his hands on my face. “You’re not fucking leaving me. I’m not letting that happen. I have you now, and you’re not going back to that cunt, or your old man.” Tanner kissed my forehead, my cheeks, then my lips. He was worshipping me, cherishing me. Trying to convince me that I belonged with him.
I knew I did. But sometimes circumstances made it so soulmates couldn’t be together.
“Mi amor,” I whispered and held his face in my hands. I drank in his blue eyes and the light lashes that framed them. I felt the stubble on his cheeks under my hands, and his lips—features that I knew, in a hundred lifetimes, I would never tire of.
“Don’t,” Tanner said, not giving me a chance to speak. He closed his eyes for a moment, before saying, “Don’t tell me you should go. Don’t tell me it’s the right thing to make this fucking exchange.”
The hurt in his voice caused me physical pain in my chest. I always tried to be strong, but in this moment, I felt weak. Because I wanted everything Tanner was offering. I wanted to stay. I wanted the dream, but . . . “Maybe it is not in this life that we are meant to be together.” As I whispered the words, each one felt like a knife being driven into my side. Tanner’s blue eyes were racked with agony. I kept my lip from trembling as I stroked my hand down his face, and along his tattooed neck. “Maybe, no matter how hard we fought, we were never meant to be. No matter how much we love one another, it isn’t enough.” I smiled at him, but the smile was a lie—I felt only heartache. “I cannot have other people’s deaths or miseries on my conscience. And I know you, Tanner Ayers. I know you cannot either.”
“I can’t let you go,” he rasped. The hurt in his voice was almost my undoing.
“Do you know how much I love you, mi amor?”
Tanner touched his forehead to mine. “Yes.” His breathing was labored, like he had the weight of the world on his wide shoulders. “Do you know how much I love you?”
“Yes,” I whispered back.
“I can’t lose you,” he appealed, and I unraveled when I saw his eyes glisten. “If the world doesn’t want us together, then we have to find a place that does. I want no one else, baby. You’re it. You’ve always been it.”
“Tanner . . .”
Tanner took hold of both of my hands. “Let me try,” he begged. “Let me try to make a plan to save the prospects and keep you safe and here with me. Please . . . just . . . just let me try.”
Tanner’s expression was so hopeful, so earnest, that I found myself nodding my head in agreement. Tanner exhaled in relief and picked me up where I stood. He carried me to the bed, and then made love to me so sweetly, so softly, as though I were a delicate flower who might fall apart at any moment.
When he left to meet with the other Hangmen, I lay wrapped in the bedsheets, his smell wrapped around me, keeping me warm. I intended to savor every part of Tanner I could over the next three days. I didn’t know what would happen,