Page 36

Hester

Grief grips me in a suffocating vice over everything that’s happened. The loss of safety and sanctuary I’ve always felt at the library. Chelsea being shot, and still not knowing how she is, or if she’s even alive. The inability to be alone because I’ve been attacked all too frequently lately. Cato, his wonderful children, and his mother are the only good things to come out of any of this. Though thoughts keep creeping in that most of what’s transpired might not have happened if he hadn’t shown interest in me.

I can’t know that for sure, of course, but deep in my soul, something screams that’s what’s happening, and I hate how it shakes my trust in Cato. I’ve never felt this way with anyone else, and I don’t like doubting him.

Sliding from bed, I pad quietly to the bathroom, wanting a warm shower to help ease my achy limbs from the way he made love to me. I still can’t believe the things I allowed him to do, but it felt so right, making it difficult to say no to him.

Testing the temperature with my fingers, I step into the spray as it heats up. Closing my eyes, I put my face under the water and force any troubling thoughts from my mind. Of course, it doesn’t work, and all I envision is Chelsea appearing so pained and shocked when she was shot. The fear in her eyes was terrifying for me too because I’ve never known her as anything but strong and funny, and suddenly, she was dying in my arms.

I wash my hair, and tears fall as I cry silently. My entire life feels like one tragedy after another. Not that my childhood was tragic, but it certainly wasn’t great.

I wish I had some way to figure out who my parents are. I’d love to ask them why they didn’t want me. It’s probably a terrible idea. Knowing you’re not wanted and knowing why you’re not wanted are completely different things, and I’m not sure I’m prepared for the answer. But the more I think about it, the more I wonder if there’s a way. Maybe circumstances are different now, and one or both of them would welcome a relationship with me.

I doubt I’d be so lucky, so why am I even entertaining the foolish idea?

With a heavy sigh, I shut off the water, grab a towel, and head into the bedroom to find clothes. I’m starving, frozen, and I miss Cato. I didn’t think he’d be here when I woke; he never seems to be, but I’d hoped.

The closet overflows with my things, half unpacked, half hanging up, and I decide to go with what I’m comfortable in. A knitted sweater, a camisole, and a pair of ripped jeans that form to my body like a second skin.

I grab my insulated knock-off Birkenstock slip-ons and am about to brave leaving the room when the door opens, and Cato enters, looking more feral than usual. He’s shirtless, his charcoal pants are stained with a substance I can only assume is blood, and his hands have reddish residue on them too.

Swallowing as he closes the door behind him, I don’t move as I ask, “I-i-is ev-ev-everything okay?”

His head cocks to the side like I’m speaking a foreign language he’s trying to decipher. “Why do you stutter?” His blunt question takes me aback.

My lips twitch from side to side as I think of the simplest way to respond. “An-an-anxiety.”

His thick eyebrows dip in the middle of his forehead as he steps forward. “I make you anxious?” Doesn’t sound like he likes the thought of that.

“N-n-no.” Fidgeting with the hem of my sweater, I glance out the window a few feet away, then meet his gaze again. “The w-w-world.”

“It is a cruel place,” he agrees. “But it can also be beautiful.” I know that. He’s shown me that. “What happened in foster care?” I both love and hate how insightful he is. As I open my mouth, he stops me. “Don’t lie to me, kitten. I want to know everything.”

The short answer is nothing, and I think that’s the problem. Inhaling deeply, I take a seat in my reading chair, allowing its comfort and familiarity to help me speak with minimal stuttering.

“N-nothing really.” He appears more confused by my answer. “I w-w-was n-n-never wanted. My p-p-parents, the real ones. F-f-foster parents, no-nobody wanted m-m-me. I was ignored, shuffled around, f-f-f-forgotten.” Those painful memories are all I have to hold onto because they were my truths growing up. They were literally all I could ever count on.

It’s not until Cato’s warm hands cup my cheeks and his thumbs wipe away tears that I even realize I’m crying. “You are the most spectacular woman I’ve ever met, Hester.” Unprepared for the compliment, my jaw drops, and he chuckles. “You have no idea just how special you are. And not just to me either. Scarlett and Nate are absolutely in love with you. I’m almost positive they like you more than me, and I can’t even be upset because I don’t blame them one bit.”

“Cato.” I sigh into his hands; this man knows how to make me melt for him.

“I’m serious, pretty girl. You are single-handedly the very best thing to happen in our lives.” He leans forward and brushes his lips across mine in the softest touch. “I’m pretty sure Ma will toss me in the trash if I fuck this up, so hear me when I say, Hester, you are my forever. Whatever thoughts you have of us not being together until the day we die, leave them behind because there will never again be a you without me, or vice versa, understand?”

“I-I’m b-b-beginning too.” My heart might be slow to catch up, but my head is willing to listen more intently.

“Good. Now let’s get something to eat because I know you have to be hungry.” Just then, my stomach makes the oddest sound, and we both laugh.

Before we go, though, I have to know. “C-cato, wh-where is the b-b-blood from?”

He glances down, stands up, clasps my hand, and pulls me to my feet. Then he strips off the soiled clothes and changes into a pair of distressed jeans and a form-fitting shirt before answering.

“I do things sometimes, kitten, things I can’t always tell you.” When I don’t respond, he sighs and explains further. “I’m not a good man. Not like you see me. How my kids see me. To the outside world, I’m ruthless, cold-hearted, and brutal. I don’t allow anyone to disrespect me or threaten the people I love.” I’m starting to see the big picture here. “Do you understand, kitten?” He brushes a hand through my hair, holds the back of my head while wrapping another around my waist, and pulls me forward. “Because I won’t always tell you everything, but I promise not to keep the important stuff from you either.”

“I understand, Daddy.”

He growls and slams his mouth over mine in a searing kiss that lights up my body. My heart pounds, pleading for me to accept his love, and my body can’t wait to have more of him.

CHAPTER 21