Page 190 of Forbidden Fate

And maybe that matters.

Maybe all of it matters.

The good and the bad.

The damage and the rescue.

I think of Ştefan.

His hand in my hair. His belief that my performance was real. That bond was fake. A thing I built because I needed to survive.

This is different.

Cruz is different.

Whatever happened between Cruz and me in Colombia may have been dangerous and reckless, complicated and even terrifying, but it was not fake.

I look past him at the ranch, at the cars parked outside, at the long drive stretching behind him. He came through all that to get here.

Then I look back at his face, his beautiful, mangled face. “You understand what you’re asking me to do.”

A muscle in his cheek twitches. “I’m not asking you for anything.”

“Yes, you are.”

He doesn’t argue.

Good.

“You’re asking me to believe you,” I say. “After everything.”

“I know.”

“You’re asking me to trust a man who worked for Vega.”

“Yes.”

“A man who hurt my brother.”

His face tightens. “Yes.”

“A man who kidnapped me and took me to Colombia.”

His eyes darken, but he doesn’t look away. “Yes.”

I let the silence sit for a second.

Then another.

I sigh. “I should slam this door in your face.”

“You probably should.”

“I should call Hawk back and let him beat the shit out of you.”

He sighs. “I’m sure he’d enjoy that. And though I’m sure I could take him, I wouldn’t fight back.”

“Hawk?” I look him up and down. “Maybe at your best you’d be equally matched, but right now you look like a good Texas wind might blow you out of here.”