Page 24 of Break Me

And then nothing.

Just the faint rustle of leaves and the whisper of wind slipping through the broken boards.

Samuel exhales, but the tension doesn’t fully leave his body. His thumb strokes my hip, slow and grounding, like he’s trying to calm the fear he won’t put words to.

“It's probably just a deer,” I say, though my pulse is still beating a little too fast.

“Raven,” he murmurs against my hair. “One of these days, our luck’s going to run out.”

My hands slide up his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palms. “Stop pretending you want to walk away.”

A muscle in his jaw jumps. His eyes darken with something raw, something close to surrender. “I don’t,” he admits. “God, sweetheart, I don’t. I try, and then I see you and—” His breath shivers out. “I’m done for.”

“I don’t care if this is wrong. I don’t care if it’s reckless,” I whisper. “We’re meant to be together.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, as if the truth he holds physically hurts. A beat passes, one breath, then another. Finally, something in him shatters.

His hands frame my face, thumbs trembling where they brush my cheeks. His chest rises and falls like he’s fighting for air. When he speaks, his voice is nothing but broken honesty.

“Raven,” he whispers, and it sounds like a prayer and a curse in one. “I can’t keep pretending this is something I can walk away from.”

My heart stutters. “Sam⁠—”

“No.” His voice breaks, rough and honest. “You need to hear this. Because it’s killing me.”

Everything around us fades away, the sunlight filtering through the slats and the warm air humming against the boards, until there’s nothing but him. His voice. His truth.

“I love you,” he says like he’s confessing to a crime. “I’ve been trying not to. I’ve been trying so damn hard to stay away, to do the right thing. For Knox, for your dad, for the club. For you.”

His breath trembles against my lips.

“But I love you,” he repeats, quieter now. “And I want to spend the rest of my life loving you.”

The world tilts. I feel his words everywhere. All the way through me.

His hand slides to the back of my neck, gentle and reverent, his thumb stroking my pulse.

“I know it’s reckless,” he murmurs. “I know it could ruin everything and everyone around us. But I’m done lying. To them. To myself.” He swallows hard. “And especially to you.”

I can’t speak.

I can’t breathe.

I can only feel—every word, every tremor in his voice, every inch of his body pressed against mine like he needs me to stay upright.

Sam’s amber eyes lock on mine. They’re fierce and terrified. “I love you, sweetheart. And I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you tell me to.”

A tremor moves through me, quiet but consuming as his words root themselves deep inside me.

I touch his face, my thumb brushing the stubble on his cheek.

“I’d never tell you to go,” I whisper.

A soft, ragged laugh escapes him, more relief than humor. He pulls me into his arms, holding me like I’m the only solid thing in his world.

Outside, the wind rattles the loose boards.

A reminder.