Hostile Ground (The Arsenal #7) - Cara Carnes Page 0,67
to her too. Still. “You were forced to watch your mother’s murder. I…”
He grasped her hands and tugged her against him. “Don’t. Not now. You need to rest. This’ll wait.”
“No. It’s waited long enough,” she whispered. “You should’ve told me.”
“It hurt too much to voice at first,” he said. “By the time I was ready, your hatred for him was so strong. I didn’t want to risk our friendship. You were the fire that fueled my rage. You kept me going.”
God. She swallowed and peered into his turbulent gaze. “You kept me going too. I would’ve understood. Our families aren’t of our choosing. What our blood did doesn’t define us. Isn’t that what you said?”
“I did.” He released her hands. “A couple weeks ago, I said that. Back then I was too lost in my pain and rage to think beyond that. All I saw was the evil bastard who’d destroyed my life. I didn’t want anything to do with him, but his blood was in my veins. He owned me.”
“He never owned you.” She touched his jaw, ran her finger beneath the cut on his lip. “They never owned us.”
“They want you out of this mission.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “I think they’re right. I don’t want this touching you any more than it already has.”
She grasped his face. “I’m not leaving this mission. Mary knows where I stand. I’ll talk Marshall around if I have to, but after what you just shared, I doubt that’ll be necessary. No one understands avenging family like the Masons. Family is their life.”
“The Arsenal isn’t part of my plan. You aren’t. This is my mission, not yours.”
“They’re intersecting,” she argued. “I’m not leaving until that bastard isn’t breathing. That argument isn’t happening.”
“I’ve see-sawed back and forth on whether I should resist what I feel for you.” He threaded his fingers through her hair. “We shouldn’t explore this right now with everything so up in the air.”
“No. We shouldn’t.” Her stomach somersaulted and her chest tightened with the admission. Her pulse quickened as he traced her lips. “But I’ve never done what I should.”
“Neither have I.” He ran his lips across hers.
The feather-soft contact cast heat throughout her. Although she wanted nothing more than to deepen the contact, she remained all-too aware of the cut on his lip. She didn’t want to hurt him.
“I shouldn’t have come in here,” he whispered against her ear. “But I couldn’t rest thinking about you after what I just shared. I should’ve told you before. When we were alone so you could yell and scream or do whatever you needed.”
Addy couldn’t deny she’d been both hurt and pissed at what she’d just found out. Hurt because he hadn’t told her. Pissed that his father was the same monster who’d run that vile camp and helped Peter destroy her life. Pissed that he’d kept everything from her.
“I’m not a fragile flower you have to protect,” she said, giving voice to some of the anger she’d harbored.
“I know.” He tightened his grip on her neck. “But I’m not the kind of man who can stand aside and let you get hurt. I’m damn sure not a man who can let his past hurt you. I don’t want you anywhere near that bastard.”
“He wouldn’t remember me. I was one of hundreds. Thousands. I was a nobody.”
“You haven’t ever been a nobody,” Kristof whispered. His gaze collided with hers. “Tell me you know that.”
She pulled away, but he dragged her back, wrapping his arm around her waist.
“Don’t retreat, not now.”
“I’m not,” she said. But she was. She couldn’t tread these waters with Kristof right now. “I just…I’m tired. I can’t think about anything else right now.”
The excuse was lame, but truthful enough. The real reason was much deeper and too much for her to admit right now—even to herself. She didn’t want to win this battle with Kristof. She wanted to explore the attraction she had to him. To hell with the consequences.
She wanted to ask questions, find out more about what he’d shared with everyone.
“I never should’ve turned you away that night,” he whispered. “It’s haunted me every night.”
“Kristof, don’t. Please.”
“I’ve never wanted anything more than I wanted you that night. Turning you away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I didn’t want the surface level Addy you were offering. The trained, seductive operative created in that camp.”
“What if she’s all that’s left?”
“I know she’s not,” he whispered. He trailed his fingers along her arm.