The Sinner - J. R. Ward Page 0,117

do with myself. I walk aimlessly around town at night. I go to clubs and find nothing of interest. I . . . take my mood out on others. I’m not alive. I’m just not here.”

Butch sat forward and rubbed his face. “I’ve been where you are, Mel. I know what that’s like.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. And it’s rough.” Driven by commiseration, he got to his feet and turned around. “I’m so sorry, Mel. I don’t want this for you. I don’t want any of this for you.”

More tears fell from her eyes, disappearing into the clear water that covered her body. When she looked over at him, she was so sad, so small, in spite of her beauty.

Sniffling, she said hoarsely, “You really understand it, don’t you.”

“Yes.” Butch would have gotten closer if she’d had clothes on, but he kept his distance. “Mel, I need you to believe things will get better, okay? I mean, if love can happen for me? It can happen for you. You’re a good person. You’re a beautiful woman. Any man would be proud to have you for a partner. You just need to wake up to the truth that you are enough, no matter what some asshole thinks to the contrary.”

“I’m not perfect, Butch.”

“None of us are.”

“I’ve done some bad things.”

“We are all sinners—and yet our creator still loves us. And if the prerequisite for true romantic love was an unassailable history and character? The shit wouldn’t happen for anybody. You’re worthy of love. You deserve to be respected and cherished, and to get that, you don’t need to be anything different than you are. You have been created for a reason. You’re here for a reason. You have a purpose, and you have to believe that you’ll find someone who will help you in that purpose. And until that happens? All you really need to know is that you don’t have to be validated by anybody but yourself. You are enough.”

Her hands came up to rest on her cheeks, water running down the backs of them. “What is my purpose, though. I used to think I knew what it was. Now, I’m just so empty. There’s nothing there.”

“What makes you happy?” He glanced around. “Well, except for buying clothes. I think we can both agree that you’re an expert in that, just like me. But that’s a surface thing. What really feeds your soul?”

Mel got a far-off expression on her face.

As Butch’s phone rang, he ducked his hand inside his leather jacket.

“Do you need to take that?” Mel said remotely.

He silenced the ringer without taking the thing out. “No. You’re what matters right now. They can wait.”

Mel took a deep breath. Then she covered her breasts with her arms and sat up. Her eyes were grave as they met his own. “You mean what you say, don’t you.”

“Every word. Or I wouldn’t waste my breath on the syllables.”

“How will I know,” she whispered in a small voice.

“You mean who the right man is?” When she nodded, he smiled. “It’ll be because when you look at him and can’t look away? He’ll be doing the exact same thing at the exact same time. It’s in the eyes, Mel. They’re the windows of the soul, right?”

She stared across at him for the longest time. And then she nodded once.

“You can go,” she said softly. “I’m going to be okay.”

“You will be, I promise.” Butch took out his phone. “Do you want me to call someone for you?”

“No.” She shook her head. “You’ve been more than enough.”

“Can I at least leave you the number of the SART folks? In case you want to report things?”

“I can find it on the Internet if I need it.”

Butch nodded. Then he walked over to the reinforced door. Taking one last look back at her, he said, “You take care, Mel.”

“You, too, Brian O’Neal. You’re a good man.”

“I try to be.”

On that note, he turned the center crank and the security bar retracted on both sides. Then he pulled open the heavy weight and stepped out. As he pivoted around to shut things, he looked through to the tub. Mel was staring at him.

She lifted her hand in goodbye.

“Just believe in yourself,” he told her. “And you can do anything and be anything you want.”

Butch shut things up behind himself. And as he walked away, he released a held breath.

But he didn’t get far. Stopping, he frowned and looked over his shoulder—even as he had no idea what had gotten his

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