Page 9 of Depraved

His eyes shutter. “I know it was wrong. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not an answer. You kept everything about yourself from me, and you dug into my life. I made myself vulnerable with you,” I accuse. “And you gave me nothing in return.”

His nostrils flare. “Everything I’ve told you over the last few weeks is true. We’re alike.”

My hands shake. “But you’ve had the tattoos for longer than that. All this time, you’ve been enamored with me, but I’ve known nothing about you. It’s not fair. It’s not right.”

“You do know me. I’m Rand, and I’m Bones. Nothing could be more right than what we share. You’re everything to me, Karolina. I…” He stumbles over the next words. “I want you for everything you are. And I offer all of myself in return.”

I know what he didn’t say. He slipped up and said it after we had sex: I love you.

No one has loved me in so long.

And like the deprived little girl I left behind so long ago, I can’t help craving it.

“I will do anything to earn your trust again,” he vows. “Ask me any question, and I’ll answer. I want you to know me. I’ve been a coward not to tell you everything all these years.”

“And why didn’t you?”

“I was scared,” he admits. “I’m not… I’ve done bad things, Karolina. I’m not worthy of you.”

“Like what?” I challenge.

He tenses, as though preparing himself for a blow to the gut. “What I told you about the MMA is true. I was in an underground fighting ring to earn the money I needed to survive after I fled my foster home. I killed people.”

“That’s how you knew to snap my stalker’s neck,” I deduce. “You’ve done that before.”

“Yes.” He’s eyeing me warily, intently studying my expression to read my reaction.

I study him in return, debating my next question.

Finally, I ask, “How do you feel about it? About killing those people?”

His face goes utterly blank.

“Tell me,” I coax. “I’ve told you how I killed my foster brother, Carter. I did it to save myself. You said you killed to survive, too. I need to know how you feel about it. I still have nightmares about what I did,” I add. “I’ve barely learned to live with it.”

His hand twitches, as though he wants to reach for me. Then his fingers curl into a fist when he restrains himself.

“You told me Carter tried to rape you. Never feel a shred of remorse for what you did to that bastard.”

The full horror of that night threatens to spill out of me. I crave absolution for what I did to Brandon, too. Even if he had been planning to share me with Carter, I can’t erase the agony over the fact that I murdered my first love.

“Tell me,” I press instead of responding to his firm decree. “How do you sleep at night after killing, even if it was to survive?”

His jaw firms. “I don’t suffer from nightmares. I sleep just fine. They were all bad men.”

I peer into his flinty eyes. “You don’t feel a shred of remorse?”

He cuts his gaze away but counters, “They were all criminals. The world is a safer place without them. I don’t want to tell you the kind of men they were.”

“You do feel bad about it,” I observe quietly. “Otherwise, you’d be able to look me in the eye when you said it.”

Defiance hardens his features. “If you think I feel remorse over killing your stalker just now, you’re mistaken. I would do anything to protect you.”

“I know.” I read the truth plainly in every taut line of his body.

He would kill for me again without question.