Spirit Bound - Christine Feehan [66]
She shook her head, her fear beating at him.
“I can take anything you feel, the worst you have to offer, il mio angelo caduto. I’m not new at this. I’ve been there, right where you are. You aren’t alone, not as long as I’m in the world with you.”
Judith spoke seven languages, she couldn’t fail to interpret his my fallen angel spoken in Italian with a perfect accent. She made a single sound of despair that broke his heart.
Stefan pulled her head back ruthlessly by the hair bunched tight in his fist, no longer asking. He wasn’t that kind of man. His mouth found hers and took possession, driving his tongue deep, commanding her to acknowledge him. Acknowledge that she was safe with him, no matter the intensity of her emotions. He lived in the shadows. He understood battles. He wasn’t new to the game and he would stand for her.
It took a few moments but she kissed him back, gripping him tight, holding him to her, while darkness and loathing beat at his body, while horror battered his heart and sorrow bruised his soul. Her body lost most of its stiffness, softening, melting into his in surrender.
Stefan kissed his way down the side of her face, following the tracks of her tears. “I’m here, Judith. I’m not running. Look around you. The house is still standing. I’m in one piece and I’ve got you safe. Do you really want to be alone?”
“I’m not the perfect woman everyone wants to think I am.”
Her confession was muffled against his mouth and he kissed her again. “I’m not looking for perfection. I’m not a man who could live with that. I’ve committed a few sins myself, Judith. You’re safe with me. You are. I’ll tell you a million times if you need to hear me say it that often.” He loosened his hold on her hair, allowing her to bury her face against him again.
“I can feel them both, above and below me, sandwiching me in. All the blood and brains and matter.” She choked, began to cry again. “I hate him so much. Jean-Claude. I know I’m responsible. The counselor and my sisters say differently, but I was the one who ignored the warning signs. I saw what I wanted to see and my brother paid the price. I didn’t control my emotions and the officer paid with his life.”
She rubbed at her arms, her face buried against his chest, her ear over the steady beat of his heart. “There was so much blood, Thomas, and none of it was mine. It should have been me there, not my brother.”
“Was Jean-Claude there?”
He felt the faint shake of her head and he pressed his lips against her ear, tenderness welling up like a fountain from some depth inside him he didn’t know he had. He smoothed one hand down her back, pressing her closer to him.
“Of course not. He was safe in his little castle waiting for his men to drag me back to him. I went into hiding for two months.” Her voice turned bitter. “I couldn’t even retrieve my brother’s remains and bring him home. Jean-Claude was arrested for running drugs, guns and human trafficking, but not murder. And he had my brother murdered. He’s responsible.”
She looked up at him. “I’m not absolving myself of my part in what happened, don’t think that for a minute, but I’ve taken a look at the prison he’s in, read all about it. France is supposed to be big and bad, but Jean-Claude has a cushy little cell and continues to run his operations right from there.”
“How do you know that?”
She shrugged and stepped back. Stefan let her go, dropping his arms to his side, his mind racing.
“Have you visited him?”
She scowled at him, a fierce, black expression, loathing in her eyes. “Never. I will never give him the satisfaction of seeing me, knowing what he took from me just because he could.”
Stefan chose his words very carefully. The intensity of emotions hammering at him had lessened just a little and he didn’t want to trigger another assault. His body actually felt bruised and battered.
“Do you think he sent those men after you because he wanted you back? He was afraid of what you saw and that you might testify against him? Or did he give you something