Vengeance Road (Torpedo Ink 2) - Page 68

“Well too damn bad, Steele. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m in love with you. Love to me means protecting you along with taking all the things you give me. I can’t give you beautiful things, so I’ve given you me. All of me. That includes the way I love. Which is protective. I already admitted to you I was wrong and should have told you about Bridges. I was scared for you. And I was young, maybe too young to see you for who you really are. You were hiding yourself from everyone, including me.”

“Don’t you dare try to turn this on me and try to make me feel guilty.”

“I wasn’t doing that.” She took a step toward the dresser, moving at an angle away from him. Every step sent her breasts and ass swaying. “I was stating a fact. We’ve already talked this over, right? I don’t understand why the subject keeps coming up.”

“It keeps coming up because there was no resolution. If there had been, you wouldn’t have taken any chances in that motel with Lizard and Candy. But you couldn’t help yourself. You just had to try to make them believe I was dead. That Czar, the others and me were all killed in the massacre with the rest of the Swords who had been there. You did, didn’t you, Breezy, after we’d already had the discussion? I let it slide—”

“You let what slide? You didn’t let anything slide, we’re still talking about it. I got up in the middle of the night to check on our child and go to the bathroom. That’s normal, Steele, in case you aren’t aware of it. It isn’t a big sin, and it isn’t being sneaky.”

“Don’t try to change what we’re talking about here.” He ran both hands through his hair in agitation. Where was all his calm? Where was his ability to stay in complete control? Breezy was destroying him bit by bit. Piece by piece.

“Steele”—Breezy clearly made every effort to sound calm—“I had my own father break into my home and kidnap my child. He was taken from me. I wake up scared and have to reassure myself that he’s here and he’s okay. You do the same thing, so don’t tell me you don’t. I see you. You don’t sleep for more than an hour anymore. I have trouble as well. It’s that simple, so stop blowing this out of proportion.”

She actually scowled, something he wouldn’t have thought her capable of. He’d never seen that particular expression and it scared him. She was really upset. She was most likely thinking of leaving him, and that wasn’t happening. He’d warned her. Straight up, he’d warned her.

“That’s bullshit, Bree. Total bullshit.” It was the absolute truth and he knew it. She had nightmares. He was worried enough that he’d put in a call to Blythe, asking her what he could do for his woman, yet he couldn’t stop himself even though he knew everything he said and did was wrong. There was so much pressure on his chest he could barely breathe through the pain.

Her hands went into the air as an exclamation point. “There’s no talking to you when you’re like this. You don’t even make sense. I have no idea what we’re doing. How this even got started.”

Breezy turned toward the door and he was on her, catching her up in hard arms, all but tossing her onto the bed, that monster in him surging to the surface, threatening to swallow him. “You fucking don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”

She lay there, her eyes wide, but there was no real fear on her face. There should be. He wanted her to be afraid so she’d never walk out on him. The anger receded from her eyes and then there was only his woman looking at him. Compassionate. Knowledgeable. Seeing too much. He wanted to hide from any truth she might see. It was too dangerous. Too terrible. His heart felt as if it might explode. Sweat trickled down his body. Beads of it. He was fucked. So fucked because she saw too much every time.

“Baby.” She paused, her hand cupping the side of his jaw gently. “You have to tell me what’s wrong. What’s really wrong. Whatever it is, I need to know. I can’t say I can help you, but I want to, and maybe sharing with me will somehow ease it.” Her fingers rubbed gently. Soothingly.

He caught her hand and ripped it from his face, stepping back away from the bed. His lungs burned and for a moment there was no air. The room was too hot. So hot. His skin was clammy. “Don’t touch me.” He pointed a finger at her and took another step back. “There’s nothing to tell. Just don’t fucking touch me.”

To his absolute horror, his hand shook. He dropped it quickly to his side, pressing his fist against his thigh. Sweat dripped down his face, ran in beads down his chest. He had to gasp for breath. The air felt thick. His skin was clammy. He took another step back.

Breezy sat up slowly and her fingers touched the kimono she’d folded so neatly and stuck on the chair. She drew it to her, every movement slow. “Steele, do you need me to call Czar?”

His entire body jerked. Czar was the last person he wanted called. Czar couldn’t know. No one could know.

“Why not? Honey, just talk to me.”

He’d said it aloud. His ears hurt, the roar in them loud. Chaos reigned in his mind.

“Steele, you’re a doctor. Let me call Maestro or Keys to help. I can see something is wrong. Let me help you.”

“Don’t call anyone. I mean it, no one.” No one could see him like this. Shit. He was having a breakdown. He should have seen it coming. He was a doctor, for fuck’s sake. “Stay away from me, Breezy.” He gave her the warning, praying she’d obey him. He was dangerous in this state. He recognized it even if she didn’t. Breezy had to be protected at any cost. He backed out of their bedroom and hurried down the hall, away from Zane’s room. He couldn’t take chances with their lives.

It was getting worse, not better. Steele paced from room to room, looking up at the cameras, making certain each was working. Even in his paranoid, physically-destroying-him state, he had to know Breezy and Zane were tracked and looked after.

He put his hands on the counter in the kitchen and tried to drag in air. When he couldn’t, he opened the thick glass door and stepped outside, pulling air into his lungs in desperation.

“Steele?”

He didn’t turn around. He closed his eyes briefly, thankful and terrified at the same time. The emotions were polar opposites. He was so grateful she cared enough to follow him, that she recognized something was really wrong. He was also aware he was dangerous, that she was treading on very thin ice.

Steele walked outside onto the spacious back patio, out toward the pool. Steam rose from the hot tub as well as from the surface of the pool. There was a sliding automatic cover for both so neither would lose heat at night, but he hadn’t covered them, thinking he would swim later with his woman.

He heard her close the door to the house and knew she was outside watching him. The fog was no more than a fine mist he couldn’t hide behind. Those green eyes of hers had always seen too much. She noticed the finest details, and she was looking at him when he was at his most vulnerable and at his absolute worst.

“I don’t understand why you can’t tell Czar what’s wrong because all of you tell him everything.” She had that gentle note in her voice that always turned him inside out. “It’s okay. Tell me, Steele. I’m your partner. You asked for my trust, and now I’m asking you for yours.”

“Breezy

.” He pushed warning into his voice. He didn’t look at her but sensed her moving toward him, and he held up his hand to stop her. He couldn’t go back there for a number of reasons. He couldn’t explain to her because if he did, she would leave. They all would leave him. He couldn’t live with himself as it was. If he revisited that time, he would have no way out but a gun to his head.

“I’m not leaving you, Steele. Not ever. We work things out, that’s what you said. I’m trying to understand your need for all this security around us, but you aren’t giving me anything to work with. You know it isn’t normal. You know that. Every time we start down this road it gets twisted into something else.”

He didn’t reply, holding himself very still, terrified she’d moved within striking distance. What if he hit her? What if he did something like Reaper had done to Anya? He shook his head.

“Honey.” Breezy was closer. Her voice was a soft whisper in the night. “It isn’t going to go away. You’re an intelligent man. You’re showing classic signs of PTSD.”

“How the fuck would you know that, Breezy?” he sneered. “You didn’t even finish high school.” The harsh accusation burst out of him. His chest felt so tight it might explode any moment. His heart pounded so hard he was afraid it would burst. “Don’t pretend you have brains, baby. You have a killer body, just stick with what you know.”

There was a long silence. His ugly retort taunted him, echoing in his ears over and over. Finally, finally, he looked at her. He had to. He had to see how much damage he’d done. He kept pushing her away, back to self-sabotaging his relationship. He’d make her leave him if he kept this up. Was that what he was trying to do? Why couldn’t he stop?

Breezy’s green eyes were on him. There was hurt showing on her face, but she hadn’t retreated. His woman didn’t retreat. She waited until his eyes met hers and then she shook her head, holding him captive just by the look on her face.

Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance
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