Oh God. My chest hurt. “You’re letting me go,” I rasped, pain so excruciating it stole my breath, slicing through me.
He jolted, shaking his head. “Fuck no. Never again.”
I twined my fingers with his, gripping tight. “Okay. But what happens now?”
“Are you willing to come to a compromise?” He searched my face and I could see he was holding his breath.
I could feel his fingers trembling around mine. “Yes.”
His thumb slid over my palm. “I want you to keep sparring with Zeke, or me. You keep training.”
“Of course.”
“And you quit your job with Harry . . . and work with us, with the people we both know and trust. We ease you in, we take things slow.”
“Neco . . .”
“Not because I don’t trust you, not because I think you need me to protect you, or you can’t do it, but because I need that, baby. I need to ease into this, even if that’s just knowing that you’re working with men I can trust. Will you give me that?”
“I can give you that,” I whispered, pressing my forehead to his, blinking rapidly. “I love you, you know that? So much, sometimes I think I was born loving you.”
He slid his fingers onto my hair, the other curling around the side of my throat. “We were born to love each other.”
“You’re my whole world, my boy across the street with the beautiful green eyes, so fierce and protective. You saved me,” I said. “And I will always need you in a million different ways, no matter where I am and what I’m doing. You looked after me, cared for me, loved me when no one else did. Now I’m going to take care of you, too.”
He groaned, the sound tortured, filled with emotion. “We’ll take care of each other.”
Then he lifted me and walked to his bedroom. Lowering me to the bed, he came down on top of me, the weight of his body covering me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, staring up into his eyes.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too.”
Then he closed the space between us and kissed me, unhurried and deep and filled with everything we were both feeling. Our hands roamed, caressed, slowly undressing each other. Finally, we were skin to skin, nothing separating us, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He cupped my face, holding my gaze and slid inside me. I arched against the mattress, crying out his name, and he started moving, the pace slow, each thrust so damn deep.
“I missed you,” he said against my lips. “Promise you won’t ever leave me again.”
“Never,” I said. “This is where I belong, in your arms.”
His expression grew fierce. “Mine.”
“Mine,” I whispered back.
Then he took us over the edge to blissful oblivion. A place only he could take me. A place I would never leave, that I would fight for until my last breath.
I woke several hours later, wrapped tight in Neco’s arms. He was behind me, chin resting on my shoulder.
“Hey,” he said softly.
“Hey.”
His hand left my hip and he reached back for something. The sound of Usher singing our song filled the room a second later, and my heart tightened.
“You know what this song means to me?” he said.
I shook my head.
“I remember watching you walk away, that night, after letting you go. How much it fucking killed me. You were my girl, had always been my girl. I’d always believed that one day, we’d be together. That when you were old enough, we’d take what we had to the next level. Then you came to me, in your pretty birthday dress, hope in your eyes, shit, written all over your beautiful face, and I knew in that moment that I couldn’t have you. That I had to let you go, that I couldn’t let the shit I was doing touch you.” I felt him suck in a breath. “And then it did anyway. That night, I lost the promise of you, of us. You became the girl I once knew. The girl I couldn’t have no matter how fucking badly I wanted you.”
I turned in his arms, tears running down my face. “Neco . . .”
“I promise I won’t hold you down, hold too tight. I can’t promise I won’t worry and act like a jackass at times, but I know how lucky I am. That whatever higher power brought us together, brought you back to me.” He kissed me gently. “You’re my girl and you’ll always be my girl.”
I sniffed, trying and failing to rein in the emotions overwhelming me.
His grin was soft and gentle as he swiped his thumbs over my cheeks, then leaned in to kiss my damp skin. “Don’t cry, baby. You know how much I hate to see you cry.”
“This time they’re happy tears,” I whispered.
“Fuck. I love you.”
“I love you more.”
“Not possible.”
I let the joy wash over me and smiled up at him. “You know, I’m okay with being held down occasionally.”
Heat radiated from his beautiful eyes. “Yeah?”
“Mmm hmm.”
He carefully lifted my arms above my head and curled his fingers around my wrists. “How about now?”
I nodded and his mouth came down on mine, kissing me hard and deep.
Then he made love to me, holding me down, holding me tight.
EPILOGUE
Neco
Nerves were battering the hell out of me as I tugged my mother into my arms and gave her a hug goodbye. “Love you, Mom,” I said into her hair.
“Love you too, baby,” she whispered back.
Ruby hugged her next and told her she’d bring her some brownies when she came to visit in a few weeks’ time.
Then Ruby’s hand slipped into mine, as usual sensing how I was feeling, and offered me the comfort and support I needed. I knew she was just as nervous as I was. Afraid to hope.
Then we walked away, out the doors of the Clayton Rehabilitation Center and to my SUV. I looked back, almost expecting to see my mother explode from the double doors begging me to take her home, that she couldn’t do it.
We climbed in the car and I stared out the window. “You think it’ll work this time?” I said into the silence.
Ruby squeezed my hand. “Yes.” She grinned at me. “The prospect of a future with grand-babies has given her something new to focus on, to fight for.” Her eyes softened. “She wants this. This time, she really wants it.”
A grin spread across my face. Somehow Ruby could make me smile, even at a time like this, when I wanted something so bad I could barely remember to breathe. She made me see things differently, better. We’d worked several cases together, so far so good. She had excellent instincts. I still worried enough to give myself ulcers, but I was learning to deal with my feelings, my control issues, and my fear, in a way that didn’t result in me smothering my woman half to death. It wasn’t easy. Some days were harder than others, but now I was aware of it, where it was coming from, it was easier to get a handle on.
Valery’s trial had thankfully been cut and dry. She was locked up and would be for the rest of her life. Ruby would never have to see that bitch ever again.
I turned to her. “You know we’re going to have to give her those grand-babies now, right?”
Her eyes were dancing, the light inside her so bright, she took my breath away.
A small smile curled the corners of her mouth. “Do you think I’d make a good mom one day?”
I reached out and brushed my thumb across her jaw. “You’d be an amazing mom.”
Her smile brightened, her lips quivering slightly. “I think you’d be an amazing dad.”
I knew she had fears, doubts about having kids. I also knew she’d be a fantastic mother when the time came. We’d have the family neither of us ever had. We’d muddle through it together. But for now, we were just enjoying each other.
She grinned. “We’ll be amazing parents.”
“You know it.”
She gave my thigh a squeeze. “So, what do you want to do for the rest of the day?”
“I think we should go home and look more deeply into this parenting thing.
”
She batted her lashes at me. “Hmm? Like research?”
“Sure.” My voice sounded rough as hell.
“What kind of research?”
“Making one. I think we should practice, lots and lots, so when we eventually decide to knock you up, we have it down.”
She kept her expression serious. “I concur. Practice is vital.”
I chuckled. “You got your cuffs?”
Her eyes flared and she lifted her handbag and gave it a little shake. “Of course. I’m always prepared.” Then her grin was back. “How fast can you drive?”
I burst out laughing, my heart damn near full to bursting. “Hold on and don’t let go.”
“Never,” she whispered.
Never.
About the Author
Author photograph © Kelly Graham
Sherilee Gray is a kiwi girl and lives in beautiful New Zealand with her husband and their two children. When she isn’t writing sexy, edgy contemporary romance, searching for her next alpha hero on Pinterest, or fueling her voracious book addiction, she can be found dreaming of far-off places with a mug of tea in one hand and a bar of Cadbury Rocky Road chocolate in the other. Visit Sherilee at www.sherileegray.com.
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Shattered King
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
EPILOGUE
About the Author
Also by Sherilee Gray
Copyright Page
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
BROKEN REBEL. Copyright © 2017 by Sherilee Gray. All rights reserved. For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover design by Mimi Bark
Cover photographs: man © iStock.com/Jacob Wackerhausen; tattoo © Artem Efimov/Shutterstock.com
ISBN 978-1-250-15567-2 (ebook)
First Edition: October 2017
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Broken Rebel: A Lawless Kings Novel Page 28