Page 42 of Craving Sin

“Why?” I ask again, needing an answer I shouldn’t need.

“To know if he’s going to be a problem. If he still wants you, then he likely won’t give up as easily, and he’ll continue to ask around, and we’ll have to deal with him.”

Deal with him. We both know what that means. It’s much easier to focus on that thought than on why I’ve been holding my breath waiting to see how he would answer. Than wondering why this man almost feels like a friend to me sometimes, until he reminds me of who he is.

“No. We don’t fuck. I want nothing to do with him. He cheated on me for six months, and now he wants to pretend I matter to him, that I ever mattered to him. Didn’t Conan tell you that?”

He flinches, just slightly, before schooling his features. If I hadn’t been watching him so closely, I would have missed it.

“No,” Rian says. “He didn’t tell me that part. Do you want me to kill him?” He turns and moves toward the kitchen.

“What? No, I don’t want you to kill him. You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Well, you plan to kill me.” I follow along behind him. “That’s slightly worse than cheating on someone if you ask me.”

“You don’t deserve that either, but it can’t be helped. I take no joy in this, Abbott. I usually don’t care when I take a life…not anymore, but I don’t want to do this.” Rian opens the fridge. “What should we have for dinner?” he asks, as though he didn’t just drop that bomb on me, as though I’m expected to understand where he’s coming from, or hell, not feel some kind of way about what he said.

“Don’t kill Hector.”

He closes the fridge again. “That’s what you’re focusing on? Not telling me I don’t have to kill you?”

“What he did to me was wrong, and I’ll never be able to forgive him for that, but I couldn’t handle it if you killed him for me.”

He closes his eyes as though he doesn’t know what to do with me.

“I know I shouldn’t care about him, and I don’t, and I know you think I’m weak for giving a shit about what happens to him, but—”

He opens his eyes again. “That’s not what I’m thinking.”

I still when he reaches out, holding my chin, so I have no choice but to look at him. The thing is, I wouldn’t have turned away regardless. Everything about him fascinates me, and this is no different. I don’t know what to do when his thumb brushes across my cheek. “You’re too good for this world. How do you not lose that?”

My breath catches. Rian doesn’t let go of my face, just continues standing here, holding me, watching me, looking into me like he expects to find answers there—like no one has ever looked at me before. I want to see answers in him, too. Want to see more than he shows me, which is what I think he’s doing with me.

“No, I’m not,” I say. “I’m not perfect. I’ve hurt people. I’ve had bad thoughts about them. I wouldn’t care if I never see Hector again, just don’t kill him for me. I don’t want to add another body count to that eight-year-old boy who should have been protected rather than turned into a killer.”

Maybe that’s wrong of me, this having more to do with Rian than it does Hector—because it does, now that I think about it. The man standing in front of me has done unimaginable things, but he was turned into this man as a child, even before he pulled that trigger. And I can’t imagine Rian hurting someone he’s supposed to love the way Hector did with me.

It’s a stupid thing to think. My brain is even more fucked the longer I’m out here with him.

And when Rian’s forehead drops against mine, the two of us breathing the same air, I don’t pull away.

How can I hate what he stands for, what he’s done, but still want what’s best for him? How can he tell me he’s going to kill me, and I still don’t want him to hurt? It’s confusing and fucked up. I wish he would kill me now. It would be easier that way for both of us.

“You are the second person to try to see more in me than I am. Don’t. All it will do is hurt you…even more than I already am…more than I already will.”

His hand drops away, but he doesn’t pull his head back yet, instead dipping it closer, so his nose rubs against the side of mine.

Rian pulls in a deep breath, then steps away. “I think we should bake chicken for dinner.” He moves back to the fridge as if nothing happened, and all I can do is watch him…think about him, and wonder what’s going on in his head, and why all I want to do is soothe him.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Rian

I don’t know what I’m doing, or how to stop it, quite frankly. My fascination with this man has done nothing but grow since we’ve been out here together. Everything I learn, I want to know more, while at the same time knowing the safest, smartest thing I could do is put a bullet in his brain right this moment and forget Dr. Preston Abbott ever existed.

Only, I won’t forget him.