I took a sip of my sparkling water, cursing myself for saying no to that glass of wine. Sure, I wanted to keep a clear head for this conversation, but a nice glass of rosé would really take the edge off.

Before I could speak, Gavin cleared his throat, his hazel eyes piercing right through me. “Are you planning on waiting until dessert?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “No. And I wasn’t planning on this being a fight either.”

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know what I’ve told you so far has left you unsatisfied.”

“I’m not trying to grill you, Gavin, I’m just trying to understand what happened.” My voice rose a little at the end as my heart pounded. I was nervous—no, I was scared. So far, he’d told me all about Ashley and their relationship, but nothing about her death.

“I know, pet,” he said, holding his hand out in the middle of the table. “Be patient with me.”

I stared at his hand for a moment, conscious of the meaning behind the gesture.

He never used that nickname during idle conversation, and I knew he was trying to be reassuring. The gesture was sweet.

Did I trust him yet? Not by a long shot. But there was only one way to let him try to earn it back.

I placed my hand in his and gave it a soft squeeze. Gavin stared deep into my eyes, running his thumb over my knuckles. He squeezed my hand in return before pulling away, then rolled his shoulders back and placed his hands in his lap.

“I’m trying to be patient. So, it sounds like you and Ashley had some similarities in how you were raised.” I hoped restarting where we’d left off would get him talking again.

He nodded. “Ashley was a foster kid. She bounced from home to home for most of her childhood, only being adopted later in her teenage years. It wasn’t an easy life, but she was tough. Dancing got her through the hard parts. Up-and-coming dancers don’t make a lot of money, though, so she came to me at nineteen asking to be an escort. I was reluctant at first because of her age, but she was persistent, and I knew that if we didn’t take her in, someone else far more dangerous would.”

I thought of Gavin’s mother, and the look on his face when he showed me the neighborhood where he grew up. I could see why he became attached to Ashley.

“She was an excellent escort,” Gavin said after taking a long sip of his drink. “Intuitive. Her years in foster care made her good at reading people, and she always seemed to know what our clients needed to hear. I guess that’s what drew me to her. We were just friends at first. Close friends. But over time, we grew closer. It was like everyone else could see what was happening but us. I became more and more possessive. I was worried about her every time she went out with a client, worried she would get hurt or taken advantage of. It was a mess. I was a mess.” He shook his head, running his hands through his hair before continuing.

“After the first time we slept together, I could tell that things with Ashley would be different. I’d found my perfect submissive, and I needed her to be completely mine. I demanded that she leave the company. Between being a dancer and an escort, she was working herself to death. It didn’t help that we were all wrong for each other. If the age difference wasn’t enough, we both came with baggage, childhood trauma and all that shit. We couldn’t see it at the time, but there was no way things between us could have ended well.”

He paused, swirling the liquid in his glass and staring at the tablecloth.

“When she got hooked on pills, I knew that something in her life had to change. I grew angrier, more persistent. I told her she needed to find another job, and threatened to fire her if she didn’t start looking. But once dancing was out, she was convinced that being an escort was her only option. I thought that pressing her harder would make it easier for her to start looking for another job, to find other ways to maintain her lifestyle. We started fighting more frequently, which only fueled the white-hot sex we often had. We were always on the brink of exploding, and our push-and-pull was . . . intoxicating. Then one day I found her in the bathtub. At first, I thought she’d just passed out from mixing her pills with a little too much wine. But when she wouldn’t wake up, I just . . .”

He stopped then and gritted his teeth. From across the table, I could see his jaw clenching and knew we had crossed a line.

“Gavin, I’m . . . I’m so sorry,” I said, but he held up a hand to stop me.

He shook his head, staring down at his lap. I’d never seen him look so broken, so vulnerable. The sight of him like this was devastating. I wanted to hold him in my arms, cradle his head in my lap, stroke his hair and soothe him until the ghosts of his past disappeared forever. God, I felt gutted seeing him like this.

Maybe dinner wasn’t the best place for this conversation.

Gavin swallowed. “That’s it. That’s everything. The ugly truth.”

“The article I read said there were ligature marks on her wrists and neck. I—I don’t understand.”

He nodded. “We’d played out a scene earlier that afternoon. She’d wanted me to tie her up, so I did. But those marks had absolutely nothing to do with her death.”

“I see,” I found myself murmuring.

A few moments later, Gavin settled the bill and led me back to the elevator.

Back at our suite, the view of the ocean matched the darkness of the atmosphere between us. The sun had dipped beneath the horizon only a few minutes ago, leaving the sky a deep and hazy indigo, waiting to settle into blackness.

Gavin stood in the center of the living area, his eyes locked on the quickly darkening horizon and his mouth set in a straight, grim line. Apparently, our talk at dinner had shaken him more than I realized. I’d assumed that his relationship with Ashley was intense, and that was why he never mentioned her. But this man standing in front of me, looking like he was ready for his world to cave in? He didn’t look dominant. He looked sad.

I took a seat on the plush white couch and sighed. “Gavin, I . . . thank you for opening up like you did. When Cooper told me about Ashley, I didn’t even think about what it must have been like for you to lose her.” I thought again about his mother, and how devastating it must be to be unable to protect the women you love.

Gavin responded only by nodding slightly. He had been so vulnerable at dinner. I could feel him starting to shut me out again, like he did sometimes after opening up. It was my turn to share now, and my window of opportunity was closing quickly.

“I wasn’t thinking about what it was like for you, because after Cooper told me, the only thing I felt was fear. I didn’t know what to do or what to think. I was just so scared.”

Gavin looked at me with searching eyes. “Of me?”

I nodded. He walked slowly toward me and sat down at the other end of the couch. He stared contemplatively at his hands for a few moments before looking again at me.

“Were you afraid that I’d hurt you like Nathan did?”

I nodded again, this time turning my face away from him. Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes, and I didn’t want him to see them fall. I wasn’t ready to weep and throw myself into his arms. I needed to be strong to get through the rest of this conversation.

“What did he do to you?”

Looking up at the ceiling to gather my thoughts, I steeled myself and returned my gaze to Gavin. His hazel eyes were steady and concerned, but not as warm as the tone of his voice made me expect. This felt like business Gavin, determined to get to the bottom of a problem. I could only imagine him going after Nathan, bare-knuckled and ready for a fight after this.

“Nathan was more than controlling,” I said, folding my hands in my lap. “He was abusive. He said horrible things to me, called me horrible names. When his yelling escalated to hitting, I was scared I wouldn’t leave the relationship alive.” I wrapped one arm over the other before continuing. “After he hit me, he’d feel so bad that he’d try to make it up to me with sex, but his kind of loving wasn’t warm or tender or gentle. It was brutal and unforgiving, so rough it hardly felt human.”

Gavin furrowed his brow. “Rough like how I take you?”

I shook my head. “No, making love with you is different. You like it rough, sure, but you make me feel cherished. I’ve always felt like you would stop if I asked you to. Nathan wouldn’t. He took in a way that was about control, not pleasure. That’s all anything was about with him. Controlling me.”




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