Hard.
Again.
Again.
“Samson!” Delaney’s voice.
Again.
Again.
Again.
“Samson!”
This time I stop. My breathing is heavy. My knuckles are bloodied. But I look a lot better than the other guy.
I straighten slowly. My hands aren’t steady. That’s new.
I look at her.
She saw it.
She saw what I am. What I’ve been trained to be. The beast.
I just took out three big men, one of whom was armed.
And I’d do it again in a fucking heartbeat.
I take a step back.
Just one.
Because I don’t know what else to do.
Because I don’t know what comes next.
Because whatever this was—whatever we are—just collapsed under something neither of us can walk away from.
And the worst part, the part I don’t let form all the way, is that even now…
Even standing in the middle of this, knowing she’s in danger…
I still don’t want her to go.
That’s the sin.
Not what I did on that dock.
Not what I did last night.
Not what I just did to these three men.
This.
Wanting her anyway.
46