Page 64 of The Devil's Reward
I take a deep breath and tell him calmly, evenly, “You think you’re going to push me away by telling me that, Shadow? That calling yourself a killer for taking out an enemy, one who deserved it, will make me hate you? Well, it won’t. You want to know what I see? I see a man who will do anything to protect the people he cares about. Do you really think a bad man would go into a vehicle he knew was going to explode, to save people? Would a bad man endanger himself that way?
“Quinn—”
“Don’t interrupt me,” I snap at him, putting my finger to his chest, needing him to understand how serious I am right now. “No, Shadow, no bad man does that. Nor does a bad man sit at a restaurant full of noisy and annoying children for a date. He doesn’t smile and laugh with a nosy five-year-old, and he certainly doesn’t come to someone’s home late at night because they were nervous about the burglary down the road.”
“That’s my job,” he growls.
“If it was your job, you would have waited until the morning,” I correct with narrowed eyes. “You are not a bad man, Shadow, and from what I can see, Rose, Bullet, and Sage are lucky to have you. Without you, King and Torque, none of them would be here.” I say pointedly, harshly. “They would be gone, Shadow. And they are not.” I take a deep breath. “They are not your team, Shadow. But you didn’t fail them, and you haven’t failed Rose, Sage, or Bullet.”
The words are like a slap, and he straightens. His lips thin, and he steps around me towards the door. I don’t stop him. I just wait. When he reaches the door, he stops and drops his head forward, shoulders sagging. “I thought I lost them,” he says quietly, his voice ripe with emotion, with an unshed grief and guilt that I can tell is eating him alive. “When I pulled Rose from that car, I could smell the gas, the smoke, and I was terrified that bullets would start flying soon. I started having a flashback and I almost froze, and Rose would have paid the price.”
“But you didn’t,” I remind him. “By your own words, you got her out of that car, which means you saved her. If you had frozen, Shadow, she would be dead, and so would you.” I step towards him. “What do you need from me, Shadow? Why did you come here tonight?”
He presses his face to the door, his hand fisting on the knob. “I don’t know,” he murmurs. “I don’t know why I came here, Quinn. I never should have dragged you into this.”
“I’m glad you did.” I swallow hard. “I had my family when Bobby died, but it wasn’t the same. They couldn’t understand the pain. But I understand some of your pain, Shadow. Nowhere near as much as I wish I could, but enough to know that when you’re hurting, you search for someone, something to help. To ground you and give you direction. Give you the strength to keep going. If that’s who I am for you, then I’m grateful, because I’ll help you no matter what.”
Slowly he turns and looks at me. “I don’t deserve you, Quinn,” he whispers. “You’ve been through enough. My baggage shouldn’t burden you. Or that sweet little girl that relies on you. You’re warm, sweet, kind. I don’t ever want to taint that.”
“If you think I’m warm, sweet, and kind, you’ve never seen me in the morning without my coffee,” I tell him with a slight smile. “Shadow, you make it sound like I’m perfect, and I am far from it.”
“Far closer to it than me.”
I shake my head. “I haven’t been to war and come out the other side. I bet if I had been, I would feel much different. Sound much different. So what do you need from me? Tonight? Because we can’t predict tomorrow, but we can figure out tonight.”
He stares at me. “I need you,” he finally rasps out. “I need you, Quinn. I need soft, I need your light in the darkness, to remind me there is the sun on the other side.”
I hold out my hand to him. “Then come with me,” I say gently. “Let me take some of the pain.”
He looks at my hand, but doesn’t take it. “I don’t think I should stay here,” he says carefully.
I arch a brow at him. “Why?” I ask, trying not to be hurt by his reluctance.
“What about Macy?”
My heart melts a little bit that he’s so concerned about her. “She’s fast asleep, and she’s a heavy sleeper. She won’t wake up until tomorrow. She’s had a very busy day.”
Still he hesitates. “Quinn, I don’t think I can lie in that bed with you and go to sleep,” he says finally. “I’m too keyed up.”
I feel the blush on my face at what he’s implying, and I swallow hard. I look at him and I realize I am moving very fast. Inviting a man I barely know up to my bed with my daughter sleeping down the hall. But looking at Shadow, I know I won’t turn him away. I can’t. Finally I tell him, “I can’t make you any promises, Shadow, but I’d rather you turn to me than go out and do something stupid and reckless. I’m asking you to trust me, just as much as I’m trusting you. With my daughter, with my heart, and with my body.”
He stares at me a moment longer before he comes to a decision. He slowly reaches out and takes my hand, fingers entwining with mine. I grip his tightly, and then I turn off the lights and guide him up the stairs.
When I pull him into my bedroom, I shut the door behind us, and I lean back against it. I don’t move as he walks to the side of the bed, sitting down and taking off his boots. His movements are deliberate, slow, and careful. Like he’s sure I’m going to change my mind. But I won’t. I don’t know if sex is what I want tonight, but I want to make Shadow feel better, and there are other ways to do that.
When he takes off his cut and carefully sets it on the chair in the corner, I move away from the door to the other side of the bed. I’m already in my pjs and I climb under the sheets without a word, watching him carefully. He pulls off his shirt, and my breath catches in my throat at the gorgeous sight of him.
Ink covers his back, a large scene of a graveyard with stone grave markers, a pair of combat boots, and a set of dog tags inscribed with names. I don’t need to guess who they belong to. The scene is gray, dark, with ravens at the top, and a large tree shading the stones. But it’s the dove in the sky above that draws my gaze. It’s looking out at the stones, at whoever might look at the piece, watching. Almost like it’s watching over them. The people he’s lost. A lump forms in my throat. It’s haunting and beautiful.
Just like Shadow.
When he turns, I see he has more ink on his front. In the middle of his chest is the Grim Reaper, and on his right shoulder is an image of a ghost. The others I can’t quite make out, but that might be because his hands are going to his belt, and I’m distracted. He’s watching me, eyes unreadable. I lick my lips nervously, but I bring my eyes up hold his gaze. I won’t be afraid, and I won’t let him think that he’s forcing me into this.
When he steps out of his jeans, I see the black of his boxers and the thickness of his thighs before he carefully pulls back the covers and slides in. The bed dips slightly under his weight, and I reach over to turn out the light. My heart is pounding in my chest as I settle back down into the bed, barely making a sound when he reaches out for me, hauling me in tight, and holding me close.
I relax against him, turning into him fully, laying my head in the crook of his shoulder and wrapping my arm around his waist. He buries his face in my hair and I hear him sigh softly. He doesn’t relax, but some of the tension in him eases.
I don’t know how long we lay there, neither of us speaking, just holding each other. Shadow’s breathing is even and steady, but his heart kicks every so often, telling me that his mind isn’t even or steady. I gently brush my fingers over his back, over the heated skin, and I nuzzle into him. In response, his arms tighten around me.
