The lamps on low, the TV on mute, Siren was curled in a ball on the couch under a comforter with every pillow from downstairs propped around her. I silently cursed. Not only had I not heard her come upstairs, but the pillow arsenal looked like a fortress a scared kid would make.
Not trusting myself to stay away from her, I slipped out to the deck and took the steps down to the backyard. Walking out to the beach, I started my run.
An hour later, sweating my ass off, my mood still shit, I climbed my back steps. When I opened the slider door, I saw Siren quickly roll over on the couch and bury her face in the pillows.
Shit. “Mornin’.”
She didn’t answer.
“Coffee?”
Nothing.
Damn it. “Siren.”
Her shoulders shook.
I walked to the foot of the couch. “Look at me,” I demanded.
Slow, like moving hurt her, she gingerly sat up but she didn’t make eye contact. “Coffee’s…fine.” Her voice hitched and her good hand flew to her mouth to try to stop the escaping sob.
“Aw, fuck.” I slid my arms under her, lifted, then sat back down with her in my lap.
The floodgates opened and she let loose. My shirt already soaked with sweat, I pushed her forward, whipped it off then pulled her back into my arms. Her quiet sobs shook her small body as I stroked down the scar on her back. “Let it out, darlin’, I gotcha.”
“I don’t want to cry.” She sobbed.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Been a rough coupla days for you.” I held her to my chest, hating the sound of her tears.
“I never cry.” She cried harder.
“Shh, it’s okay.” The broken, despairing sounds coming from her chest were gutting me. I felt so fucking helpless. “You’re safe now.” I ran my hand down her hair and over her slim shoulder.
She shuddered. “I know.”
But it didn’t sound like she knew. “I’m not gonna let anythin’ happen to you.”
Her arm snaked around my neck, her hand gripped my hair and she brought her face up. Our eyes locked.
She looked at me like I was her only hope. “Talon,” her desperate whisper filled my head as her shaking fingers skimmed across my jaw and my life came full circle.
Sprawled on the same couch where I’d kissed Layna, another untouchable broken woman in my arms, I sat there and watched in slow motion as everything fell to shit.
“I’m not what you want,” I warned.
“Please.”
Fuck fuck fuck. “Siren—”
“I don’t want to be alone right now.”
Motherfucking karmic bullshit. Was this what I got for sleeping with every woman I could get my hands on since my wife died? “You’re not alone.”
“Show me,” she begged.
Fuck.
She leaned forward and I caught her hair, stopping her. “I said I wouldn’t hurt you. I’m doin’ you a favor. You know how this ends.”
“No, I don’t.” Misery laced her every word.
Now she wanted to pretend? Fine, I’d lay it out for her. “You think you can use me? Take what you want because you’re hurtin’ and it feels good right in this moment?” Every word I said made me angrier, at her, at myself. “What are you gonna do when I bring another woman home?” She wanted to use me? Then she’d better know the fucking score.
The swelling around her eye almost gone but the bruise a deeper shade of purple today, she didn’t even flinch at my words. “I’ll pretend I’m not here.”
“Don’t,” I barked. “Don’t pull that bullshit with me.” Goddamn, I was pissed. I had no right, this had been my doing, I got that. I’d taken her in. I’d flirted with her. But for once I wanted a woman who wanted me badly enough to fight for me.
She dropped her head and tried to move off my lap.
Her body soft and warm against mine, her full lips begging to be kissed, my sick self wouldn’t let her go. “Change your mind?”
“I shouldn’t have done that,” she muttered. “I know I look like shit.”
Christ. “You think this has to do with how you look right now?” My fingers threaded through her hair and fisted. Hard as shit, my mouth watering to taste hers, I ground my hips against hers and imagined every second of what it would feel like to sink inside her. “It doesn’t.”
Her breath caught on a small gasp.
I groaned in frustration and abruptly let her go. Lacing my hands behind my head, I leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “Go,” I said harshly.
Her hair brushed across my chest. It was all the warning I got. Her lips were on my throat before I could take air into my lungs.
“Siren,” I groaned. My hands snaking up her thighs, I was careful of her stitches. “You better know what the fuck you’re doin’.”