Page 96 of Scarred Redemption

When I pulled away, he refused to allow me to go anywhere. There were times when he cupped the sides of my face that I felt as if I was floating. As if nothing in the world could hurt us when I knew better.

His lips were soft, the kiss nothing more than a gentle reminder of what we’d shared. I wanted nothing more than to cling to him, keeping him close while forbidding him to go anywhere. Yet he could no more stay than I had to right to ask him.

As always, there was a tremendous feeling of desire and with every kiss stolen and every moment of passion that exploded, there was a gathering sense of foreboding.

A worry that all that we’d shared would be at minimum challenged again and at worst would be ceremoniously picked away piece by piece until there was nothing left.

He swept his tongue inside while his arm wound around my waist, crushing my breasts against his chest.

He tasted of defiance and rage, the deadly combination far too seductive for what I knew was about to come. I couldn’t relive the past again.

Images of my sister taking her last breath.

The moments of hearing my mother sobbing from utter despair.

My own wails when told my mother had killed herself.

Why did someone want me to suffer all over again? Was using me as a pawn so damn important that my life meant nothing?

I rolled my hand over his shoulder, wishing there were no demons to fight. The raging fire within swept through every muscle and tendon leaving me breathless. I sensed his love mingling with his intense yearning.

But would it be enough?

When he pulled away, he took a deep breath and brushed hair over my shoulder as if the long strands were bothering me. “The doctors didn’t call.”

“Not yet, but sometimes the tests take longer. It hasn’t been a day.”

“That’s unacceptable.” He acted as if he was going to reach for his phone.

“No, Maxsim. You’re not hassling them. We wait until tomorrow. You want me to follow the doctor’s orders, but you need to do the same. Just for a little while, you need to remember you have a little girl who just might be terrified that her father will be taken away from her. What if you can’t find this person?”

“I will.”

“What if you don’t? What then? We live in a bubble?”

“Don’t underestimate me, my angel. I need you to place your trust in me.”

The tone of his voice as he laughed had changed altogether yet remained guarded as if he knew we were one phone call or one attack away from devastation.

The thought was terrifying.

“I do trust you.”

While he took a step away, I could sense he continued to have questions. “You said you lived in a wealthy household.”

“To a point, yes. But as you might imagine, the medical expenses dragging on for several years were significant. We had a large house in a nice neighborhood. Eventually that was sold before my father died. Why?”

“When your father did die, what about his will? I’m certain he had an attorney.”

“If you’re asking if I have a trust fund, yes, I do. Have I touched the money? No, I have not. From what the attorney told my sister and me, our father made several bad investments. I honestly didn’t care because I considered whatever he’d earned blood money. It’s in an account. I receive statements but rarely pay any attention.”

“If your father was the man I believe him to be, his true wealth was hidden in offshore accounts. It’s entirely possible those working for him are controlling his company.”

“Why didn’t you find out about the possibility he was this Butcher before?” While I found the notion ridiculous on one hand, on the other I knew my father was capable of almost anything.

“Because anyone can hide their true identities. Those in his position are very good at doing so. Which helps them stay alive.”

“You really believe he didn’t die.”