Stepbrother Thief(82)

I swallow hard as he steps back and I look up into his face.

I don't know why Gilleon is here or why, but I can tell right off the bat that this isn't the reunion   I've always dreamed of.

Gill doesn't love me anymore.

I try not to be sad about it, to stand there strong and empty, but inside, my heart breaks into pieces all over again. Until this moment, I never truly realized how much I missed the love in his eyes.

And he will never, ever look at me with that same passion again.



I barely make it three steps out of that room before Gill's moving after me, grabbing me by the arm and yanking me back into his bedroom.

The door slams shut behind me as Gilleon pushes me against it with his half-naked body, one arm wrapped around my waist, his other elbow leaning against the wood to the right of my head. We're both panting, staring into one another's eyes like we're not sure how we ever managed to look away in the first place.

In his gaze, I see it again, that something that I never thought would come back, that I feared was dead forever.

Love. Passion. Desperation.

I want to pull away, open this door and walk out.

But I can't.

It's irresponsible, and it's stupid, and I know it's probably a big mistake, but I find my fingers traveling up the sides of Gill's face, over the slight stubble on his cheeks, until I curl them in that thick, dark hair of his.

“I can't do this again, Gilleon,” I whisper, feeling a slight brush of tears, tears that I've fought off since the moment he first walked back into my life, his face blank and empty, but his heart full. That terrifying moment in the kitchen when I was certain he didn't love me anymore, it was all a fucking performance. But he can't fool himself anymore.

And neither can I.

I can't keep lying to myself about Gilleon.

I love him with a passion so bright it blinds, so hot it burns, so wild that it can't be tamed, no matter how hard I try or how long I fight, how mature I think I am or how much distance I put between us. Despite what he did to me, to our daughter, to the life we should've had …

“No, Regina,” he says, his voice a shattered sea of glass, cutting into me with the rough tenderness in his words. “There's no again, not ever. I couldn't walk away from you if my life depended on it.” He swallows hard and closes his eyes. “Not even if yours did.” He turns his head away slightly and pulls back, releasing me and leaving my skin hot and aching for him. “I told you,” he says again, “love is selfish.”

I reach up and find warm tears trailing down my cheeks, the emotions that I've been fighting back for so long just come flooding up and out to the point that my knees go weak and I find myself sliding down the door. Gill catches me before I hit the floor and hauls me up and into his arms like I don't weigh a thing, setting me on the edge of the bed and stepping back. I think we both need some space right now—even if my body's telling me a different story. I want him to fuck me again, fill me up, capture my mouth with his.

But my heart is rocked with a revelation, and I need a breather.

“I still love you,” I say, and the words drop from my lips in a near sob. No. I don't want to be like this; I'm strong.

But then … maybe I'm trying to measure strength by the wrong rules? Maybe strength isn't about how well you push the emotions back, maybe it's in how you embrace them? They don't have to rule your life, but they're always there and they need to be acknowledged.

That's what I'm doing now. Acknowledging them. And if I thought my heart couldn't hurt anymore than it already did … I was wrong. I feel like I'm being torn into pieces, blood oozing from old wounds as I try to come to terms with everything.

Gill still loves me—never stopped loving me if he's to be believed. And I do. I believe him.

And me … I know I never stopped loving him. In fact, that whole absence makes the heart grow fonder bit, I think that's true. I feel so full of emotion that I can barely breathe past the tightness in my chest.

“I love you,” I say, my voice cracking as I put my head in my hands. “I shouldn't, but I do. I do.”

Gill says nothing, but I can feel him looking right at me, his gaze cutting straight through my soul.

“I love you, too, Regina. More than anything. That's why I left before, because I was afraid for you. Karl, he promised me he'd do the same thing to you that he did to your mother.”

My gaze snaps up suddenly, my hands falling into my lap.

“What?” I ask, brushing away the tears as I stare wide-eyed at a shirtless Gilleon, his jeans undone, muscles tight, but expression sober. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means,” he says, running a hand down his face, his voice a rough whisper, “that I can't keep secrets from you anymore, Regi. I can't keep ducking around the truth.” Gill's breath hitches and he looks me straight in the face, scaring the hell out of me with his expression.