It takes some maneuvering, but I manage to get up from the floor carrying Torrent. She’s holding me and sobbing into my neck. She’s so full of pain and I had no idea. I sit on the bed and resume my earlier position. Once I’ve reclined back on the pillows, I make sure Torrent is comfortable and I let her cry. I don’t say anything; now isn’t the time for words. I content myself with holding Torrent, combing my fingers through her hair, kissing the top of her head and breathing her in. God, I’ve missed her. I missed her even when I didn’t realize it.

“It’s okay, Angel let it out,” I whisper.

“I shouldn’t be here. I… I needed to warn you,” she murmurs.

I should let it go at that, but I find I can’t. I don’t know where in the hell this is going. I don’t even know what we are, but whatever else happens I want nothing but honesty between us.

“That’s not why you’re here, Angel. You knew I was leaving. That’s not why you’re here. Admit it.”

“Okay fine. That’s not why I’m here,” she huffs and her bottom lip sticks out in a pout. I can’t resist moving my finger along it, stroking it.

“Why are you here? I want to hear you say it, Angel.”

“I missed you, Logan,” she answers.

It’s a simple statement and there’s no huge meaning behind it, but knowing she missed me—like I miss her—slides deep inside of me and makes something shift. I wanted Torrent before. Now I don’t know if I can let her go.

“I missed you too,” I respond, because it feels like I should let her know she’s not alone.

“I got you all wet,” she mumbles, her hand petting my shirt.

“That’s usually my line.”

She looks up at me and rolls her eyes. Then elbows me.

“You’re such an ass, and it has not escaped my notice that you tricked me, Logan Dupree.”

“What do you mean I tricked you?”

“You got me on the bed while I was vulnerable and weak.”

“Are you saying I took advantage of you?”

“Are you going to admit it?” she asks.

I move her so she lies on top of me and our faces are close together. Her body is pressed against mine like this and even with our clothes on it feels perfect. Maybe more perfect than anything I’ve ever shared with a woman.

“That wasn’t my intention, but I’m not a damned bit sorry, Angel.”

She pulls her head back enough so she can see me clearly. Her fingers dive into my hair and she uses the pads of her fingers to press against my scalp tenderly.

“I’m not either, but I shouldn’t be here. My mind is a little messed up, Logan and my life… I have a lot to sort out right now.”

“This is not so different than the first time we met—except then I thought I was going against the Big Guy upstairs. Can’t tell you how fucking glad I am that you’re not really a nun, Angel.”

“It might be better if I was. God is probably more forgiving than Wolf.”

“You realize the way you talk about Wolf doesn’t fill me with confidence that you’re safe around him.”

“I’m fine. Wolf would never hurt me,” she defends. I frown. I can tell she truly believes that and maybe he wouldn’t hurt her—physically. Instinctively I know that right now is not the time to argue that with her.

“I guess that leaves us with one question, Angel.”

“What’s that?”

“Why are you here with me, when you’re dating Wolf?”

“We seem to be going around in circles,” she sighs. “Maybe I’m here because I’m a horrible person,” she mutters, trying to avoid my eyes again. I lean up to kiss her forehead.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” I tell her and it’s the truth. I think Torrent is mixed up and been through a fucking lot.

“Maybe I’m warring with what I want and what I should do,” she says, looking up at me under her lashes, her lips pressed together and a shudder moving through her body. She’s got so much emotion and fear churning through her body it’s a wonder she can keep going. I’ve seen women on the edge before and that’s definitely Torrent right now—even if she’s trying to hide it.

“Why should you do anything, Torrent? Life happens. You’re a free person. Why should you do anything?”

I watch her throat work as she swallows and my gaze is glued to the way her lips purse as she considers my words.

“Logan… my entire life I’ve kind of done what I wanted. When my dad was in trouble…he asked me two things… to keep my head down and to stay where he put me, so he could make sure I was safe while he got to the bottom of things. Instead of doing that… I went out to meet this man with blue eyes that made my knees weak—even knowing I shouldn’t.”

“Torrent—”

“And when he asked me to stay there and be safe, I tried to leave and… and…”

“Damn it, Angel—”

“I got my father killed, Logan. If I had done what he asked of me, he never would have walked in there and laid his life down like he did. It’s all my fault,” she whispers and I hate that the tears begin to fill her eyes, sliding out along her face as her body shakes from the need to sob. “It’s all my fault,” she says again. “I killed my father, Logan.”

“Torrent—”

“I killed him,” she whispers so brokenly it hurts to hear her. In some ways it would be so much better if she would cry again, let the grief overtake her body. She doesn’t. Instead she looks up at me with tears there, but refusing to do anything about them. They slowly fall while her face is filled with misery. “I killed him,” she repeats and I’m left wondering if I can ever help Torrent heal… or worse…

If she will let me help her.