Page 147

“Sofia baby, what do you mean, it’s not me?”

My mind goes to a million different places, but especially one.

Unable to help myself, and the protective beast roaring out of me, I press, “Fia, does all of this have to do with the pain you talked about carrying?”

Without looking at me, she nods.

“A man made you feel this way?” I ask, notably angered.

Quicker than ever, Fia’s eyes find mine, frightened. Worry, relief, and anticipation flutter across her face, and it’s then I know, this is serious.

Striking guilt and rage fill my limbs, but I can’t show it all, not now.

“I—” Shivering under my touch, she tries to find her speech.

My insides mirror her shiver, not wanting to think about my girl in a compromising position.

“Did a man hurt you, baby?”

I’m no monster. I’ve made stupid decisions, sure, but I know the kind of specimen I’m a part of. I know how deplorable men can be to women, how dehumanizing some make women feel just for the fuck of it.

This guy deserves to be lit on fire and slowly burned to death.

I’m not usually overly emotional; reality has always been at the forefront for me, but imagining her in the arms of someone harmful makes me hold in the sob gnawing at my throat.

“Fia, you’re safe with me, baby. You can tell me.”

She inhales, waiting until she’s ready.

“It wasn’t even a big deal. I— My dress was short that night. Plus, I was a little tipsy.”

No.

Fuck, she thinks this is her fault.

“Eyes on me,” I bark, and I don’t mean for it to come out as harshly as it does, but my blood is boiling.

When she doesn’t look, my approach is softer, but no less urgent.

“Sofia baby, I need your eyes on me.”

“He kept saying that…” Her words are so quiet, yet still she obeys my command anyway.

Fuck.

Tears fill her eyes, and as the roll down her face, I crumble.

“God, Fia, I’m so sorry, baby.”

Grabbing her face in my hands, I lower my forehead to hers, breathing in her heavy breaths, trying to steal her pain like a thief.

“When you look at me, all I want is to be able to fall deeper into you—my only purpose for your stare is for you to know all of my focus is on you.”

“Okay,” she weeps.

“Do you understand that none of that was your fault?”

“I try to, but⁠—”