Read Online The Second Betrayal by Cheyenne McCray - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cheyenne McCray
Ads: Link
together and I enjoyed the feel of being in his strong arms. It was a comfort that blocked out the real world.
But my past wasn't like the real world. At least I didn't want it to be. It had been mine, though. Every bloody inch by inch.
Christ. I moved away from Donovan, suddenly feeling unclean inside. I was unclean inside, no matter how hard I worked to accept what I'd done in the past, who I'd been.
"What's wrong, Steele?" Donovan caressed my shoulder as I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.
"It ruins everything." I shook my head back and forth on my pillow. "Why can't I make it stop?"
Donovan raised himself on his elbow and I met his concerned eyes. "Hey." He stroked his fingers up and down my belly. "We've talked about this. You weren't given any choice." Trust him to know exactly what was bothering me.
"You've got to accept the fact that you did what you had to."
I closed my eyes for a moment, blocking out his handsome image. "I can see the faces of every man or woman I
assassinated." I opened my eyes and met his. "Sometimes I want them to blur, to fade away. But then I realize I deserve to remember, to see them in my dreams. It's only right since I took their lives."
Donovan stroked the side of my face. "Try, Lexi. You don't deserve to feel like this all of the time. It wasn't your fault.
None of it was."
I pictured the bastards at FAS. After what they'd done to me and forced me to do to others—theirs were dead faces I could live with. With satisfaction, even.
My thoughts turned to the fact that Donovan would never talk about his own past, yet he knew just about every dark
secret I had.
I frowned. "When are you going to tell me what happened to make you so hard inside? Whatever it is holds you back from all of us. Not just me. but your sister, too."
Donovan settled onto his back and I rolled onto my side to look at him. He clasped his hands behind his head, and
stared up at the ceiling. The way his muscles moved and flexed beneath his shirt, and the hard look on his features, showed his power and strength. The tenseness of his jaw told me he didn't want to discuss his past. Like always.
"1 told you about what eats at my insides every single day of my life, Donovan." I grabbed his chin in my hand and forced him to look at me. "There's no reason why you can't tell me what's wrapped up so tight inside you." His blue eyes darkened as I spoke. "It can't be any worse than what I've done."
Donovan pulled away from me as he pushed himself up in bed. "It's different, Steele." He didn't look at me as he swung his legs off the bed, stood, then tucked himself in and fastened his Levi's. "It's a lot worse."
"This is total bullshit." Heat caused my skin to burn as I climbed out of bed, but this time the heat was from anger.
"You need to let me inside that little black box you keep locked away so tight that I'd need at least a dozen keys to open it."
He said nothing, which pissed me off even more.
"I'm sure it has something to do with Manning, Lloyd, Harrison, and Freeman." I stood beside Donovan. I was naked, he wasn't, but I didn't feel vulnerable in the least. "Black ops? Was that it? Some mission gone bad?"
Donovan made a low growling sound in his throat as his eyes met mine. "Forget it, Steele."
"No." I kept my tone firm and even. "I won't."
"I'm going to fix dinner," he said before he turned away.
I picked up my running shoe and almost nailed him in the ass as he walked out the bedroom door.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Belgian waffle interrogation
'The madame's fixin' to be late," Weiss said in our earpieces in a perfect southern drawl. He could nail any accent.
Five of nine languages I speak perfectly, but I never could get down a southern drawl. Weiss was stationed at the
observation apartment watching the entrance to the Elite Gentleman's Club. "I could use forty winks. She'd better waddle that lardass out of the cathouse soon, y'air
Lardass. Smithe laughed over the comm and I almost snorted.
But my past wasn't like the real world. At least I didn't want it to be. It had been mine, though. Every bloody inch by inch.
Christ. I moved away from Donovan, suddenly feeling unclean inside. I was unclean inside, no matter how hard I worked to accept what I'd done in the past, who I'd been.
"What's wrong, Steele?" Donovan caressed my shoulder as I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.
"It ruins everything." I shook my head back and forth on my pillow. "Why can't I make it stop?"
Donovan raised himself on his elbow and I met his concerned eyes. "Hey." He stroked his fingers up and down my belly. "We've talked about this. You weren't given any choice." Trust him to know exactly what was bothering me.
"You've got to accept the fact that you did what you had to."
I closed my eyes for a moment, blocking out his handsome image. "I can see the faces of every man or woman I
assassinated." I opened my eyes and met his. "Sometimes I want them to blur, to fade away. But then I realize I deserve to remember, to see them in my dreams. It's only right since I took their lives."
Donovan stroked the side of my face. "Try, Lexi. You don't deserve to feel like this all of the time. It wasn't your fault.
None of it was."
I pictured the bastards at FAS. After what they'd done to me and forced me to do to others—theirs were dead faces I could live with. With satisfaction, even.
My thoughts turned to the fact that Donovan would never talk about his own past, yet he knew just about every dark
secret I had.
I frowned. "When are you going to tell me what happened to make you so hard inside? Whatever it is holds you back from all of us. Not just me. but your sister, too."
Donovan settled onto his back and I rolled onto my side to look at him. He clasped his hands behind his head, and
stared up at the ceiling. The way his muscles moved and flexed beneath his shirt, and the hard look on his features, showed his power and strength. The tenseness of his jaw told me he didn't want to discuss his past. Like always.
"1 told you about what eats at my insides every single day of my life, Donovan." I grabbed his chin in my hand and forced him to look at me. "There's no reason why you can't tell me what's wrapped up so tight inside you." His blue eyes darkened as I spoke. "It can't be any worse than what I've done."
Donovan pulled away from me as he pushed himself up in bed. "It's different, Steele." He didn't look at me as he swung his legs off the bed, stood, then tucked himself in and fastened his Levi's. "It's a lot worse."
"This is total bullshit." Heat caused my skin to burn as I climbed out of bed, but this time the heat was from anger.
"You need to let me inside that little black box you keep locked away so tight that I'd need at least a dozen keys to open it."
He said nothing, which pissed me off even more.
"I'm sure it has something to do with Manning, Lloyd, Harrison, and Freeman." I stood beside Donovan. I was naked, he wasn't, but I didn't feel vulnerable in the least. "Black ops? Was that it? Some mission gone bad?"
Donovan made a low growling sound in his throat as his eyes met mine. "Forget it, Steele."
"No." I kept my tone firm and even. "I won't."
"I'm going to fix dinner," he said before he turned away.
I picked up my running shoe and almost nailed him in the ass as he walked out the bedroom door.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Belgian waffle interrogation
'The madame's fixin' to be late," Weiss said in our earpieces in a perfect southern drawl. He could nail any accent.
Five of nine languages I speak perfectly, but I never could get down a southern drawl. Weiss was stationed at the
observation apartment watching the entrance to the Elite Gentleman's Club. "I could use forty winks. She'd better waddle that lardass out of the cathouse soon, y'air
Lardass. Smithe laughed over the comm and I almost snorted.
Similar Books
