I felt more of his heavy weight settle into me and his thumb swept my jaw as he whispered, “Red –”
“And I know you think I’m vulnerable, Tack. And I know you understand you have to teach me how to live in your world. But I’m not so stupid as to be partying with a bunch of rough and tumble bikers in the forecourt of a garage, drinking tequila and getting laid and through that convince myself the man I’m with is perfect, the man I’d been looking for, my dream man because I’m desperate to find him or the sex was great or I was drunk. The perfect I was looking for wasn’t perfection. The perfect I was looking for was the one. And he was you.”
His hand pressed in as he murmured, “Jesus f**kin’ Christ, baby.”
“Then you kicked me out of your bed without even a kiss good-bye.”
“Christ, baby,” he growled.
“And then you were a jerk. And I couldn’t believe I was so wrong about you. Then you weren’t a jerk. Then you were again. And, looking back, I didn’t know I was doing it but I’ll admit right now that you’re right. I was playing games. I was doing it because I was testing you because if I was going to settle on the one I had to be sure he was… the one.”
“Tyra –”
“You passed,” I whispered and his eyes heated as his face got closer, his hand shifting to cup my jaw and I finished, “Then last night, you failed.”
His head jerked back.
“What?”
“You put your hand to my throat and shoved me against the wall.”
“Tyra –”
“I’ll accept beer and tequila and eating chips out of a bag and dip out of jars and ten pounds of extra weight,” I told him. “I’ll accept people smoking pot and making out hot and heavy all around me. I’ll even do it, if I’m in the mood. Though maybe not the pot,” I carried on. “I’ll accept your brothers getting their rocks off whenever they want with whoever they want because that’s the way of your world and also, because you’re right, it’s none of my business. And lastly, having had time to think about it, it’s the way of any world. Men cheat, women do too. It happens everywhere, not just with bikers. Though, I must say, I don’t ever want to see it again in the flesh,” I shared and kept going. “And I’ll accept essentially being a second class citizen in your biker world but only if I’m treated with respect to my face and that shit does not come home. I’ll even accept rivers of blood because a man like you has to do what you have to do and part of the reason why you were the one is because you’re a man like you.”
I pulled in breath, held his eyes and finished.
“What I will not accept is being shoved against the wall, a car or even a pillow with your hand at my throat.”
To this, he replied immediately, “But your pulse is there, baby.”
My head jerked and I felt my brows shoot together because his soft response was not anywhere near what I expected.
“Pardon?” I whispered.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
“That isn’t the point.”
“Yeah, darlin’, it is. Now answer, did I hurt you?”
“No,” I whispered.
“And I won’t,” he replied. “Ever,” he went on firmly. “Not like that,” he concluded.
“Tack –”
“Found my sister dead. OD.”
I blinked in shock at his words, the change in subject and, well, his freaking words!
Then I whispered, “What?”
“Dead. It was me who was with her, me who found her. Felt her throat, no pulse. I gotta tell you, Red, there is nothin’, not one thing in the world worse than puttin’ your hand to the throat of someone you love and… feelin’… nothin’.”
Oh my God.
“Tack –” I breathed.