Sanctuary (10 page)

“I don't know this time. I feel weaker than I ever have in my life. I feel…absolutely crushed by this.”

“Love will do that to you, I guess. But you're still y
ou
on the inside, Dev.”

Love? Is that what this was? This raging longing, this
need
for him that went far beyond the mere physicality of the chemistry between them?

I'm in love with him.

“You still there, Dev?”

“What? Yes. I'm thinking about what you said. And you're right, Kimmie. God, you are so right. I have to talk to him. Right now. I'm sorry, but I need to go.”

“Don't be. I'd rather see you strong like this.”

“I'll call you,” she told Kimmie. “I'll let you know what happens.”

“Don't worry about me right now. Just go, call him.”

Devin hung up the phone, quickly dialed his number. It rang a few times before his voicemail picked up. It was like a punch in the stomach simply hearing his voice on the outgoing message. She waited for the beep.

“Shaye, it's me, Devin. I'm calling because…because I think you made a mistake. I'm sure I made some too. But we need to talk. We have something here. Just…call me.”

She set her phone down on the table as she settled back into the pillows, staring at it, willing it to ring. She was still waiting hours later when, exhausted, she fell asleep.

It was dark when she woke up. She rubbed her eyes, willed herself not to cry. Maybe he'd been working all day. Maybe he'd left his cell phone in his car. Maybe he simply didn't want to talk to her.

She picked up her phone, checked the screen in case she'd somehow missed a call, but there was nothing but a text message from Kimmie asking how things went.

She didn't know what to think. Should she call him again? Or would that seem too desperate? Did that even matter anymore?

She was putting it all out there—putting her heart out there, for God's sake.

She dialed his number. It went right to voicemail. She shook her head, hung up, tossed her phone onto the table as if it were poison.

Where the hell was he? Why hadn't he returned her call?

She got up, paced her apartment.

Should she go to his house, knock on the door? How damn hard was she supposed to work for this, anyway? If he felt even half of what she did, he would have called her back by now. Would have shown up at her place.

Tears stung her eyes. She fought them back, tried to find anger within her instead of hurt.

If he wanted her, he knew where to find her. Yet there she was, alone. She'd known this would happen, damn it. And she'd let it. This was crazy. Hopeless.

She loved him. She was certain he loved her back. But there wasn't a damn thing she could do to make him admit it.

As the San Francisco fog drifted by outside, she wrapped her arms around her body, gave herself over to her grief. And sank to the floor and cried.

Shaye cruised up and down the hills of San Francisco, not even knowing where he was going. He didn't want to go home, where he'd spent a restless three nights. No sleep. Nothing but images of her.

Devin.

He'd left his place to get away from his own
head
. But it wasn't working. He was driving aimlessly, had been for two hours. He didn't want to go anywhere except back to Devin. But that was the one thing he could not do. No matter how his body, his mind, his
heart
craved to just be with her. It meant something now, and so he had to let her go.

Had
to.

Didn't he?

He downshifted and made a right turn. Where the hell was he? Somewhere by Golden Gate Park, Stanyan Street. He could see the shadowed green of the trees looming ahead. He made a left onto Haight Street, home of the Bohemian, the punks, the Goths, the homeless, the displaced.

That's how he felt right now. Displaced. And it was because he'd left Devin behind. Left behind the first and only woman he had ever loved.

Goddamn it!

He pounded his fist on the steering wheel. This was not fucking possible. This was
him
. His father's son. And the Vincent men did not love, not since his mother had left them.

The voice of reason in his head told him she had died. He knew that, damn it. But she'd left them all the same. And it was only at that moment he realized his father wasn't the only one who had been crushed by that loss.

Suddenly, he remembered the feel of his mother's arms around him, the scent of her: lemon verbena. Remembered the way she sang to him at night. It hadn't all been bad. In fact, while she'd been there, loving them both, it had been pretty damn good.

And now he was going to turn his back on the one woman to offer him love, to offer that kind of feminine comfort. And why? Because his father was an asshole who had shut down after his mom died. And had raised him to be the same kind of asshole.

Did he still need to be that asshole? That shut down? Maybe Devin was already teaching him that he could be different, if only he was smart enough to pay attention. He pulled over in front of a thrift store, the colorful window display a sharp contrast to the empty, foggy morning, to the panicked desolation he felt inside. He pulled out his phone and dialed her number.

Devin was cold. She had been since the day Shaye had left. Even now, wrapped in her warmest sweater, sitting in her small, cozy kitchen with another cup of tea in her hands.

She'd spent the days drinking tea, trying to warm her aching and frozen heart. She hadn't been able to work. Hadn't been able to face Kimmie, so she'd left her a message when she knew her friend would be at work, telling her she hadn't been able to reach Shaye. That she was fine.

Liar.

She was
so
not fine.

She could have emailed him, but it was too impersonal. She could try to find him when he was working at the Ring. But she knew she couldn't face him there. In a place where she might naturally sink into subspace, despite her emotions. She didn't know what the hell to do.

Some part of her kept hoping he would show up at her door.

Stupid.

He'd left, hadn't he? He obviously wasn't coming back.

She bit her lip, her eyes stinging. She would not cry anymore.

She got up and stood by the window, looking out but seeing nothing. Trying to stop shaking. When her phone rang the sharp sound made her jump, her tea splashing on the hardwood floor. She pulled her cell from her jeans pocket.

“Hello?”

“Devin.”

“Shaye?” Her heart tumbled in her chest.

“I need to talk to you.”

His voice was commanding again, certain. She did her best to prevent her voice from trembling.

“Yes, I need to talk to you too.”

“I'm coming. Wait there for me. Will you do that?”

She gathered her strength around her, felt her body filling up with it. And oddly enough, she drew even more from him. “Yes. I'll wait. But not forever, Shaye.”

“You have every right to be pissed at me. Furious. I understand that. And I'm going to try to get this all straightened out. Just…wait for me. I'll be there as soon as I can.”

Twenty long, nerve-wracking minutes passed before she heard his knock on her door. When she opened it, the first thing she noticed was the torn expression on his face. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to make him feel better, to make
herself
feel better. But she needed to hear what he had to say for himself first. She tucked her hands in her pockets and stood back.

“Come in.”

He closed the door behind him, stalked over to the sofa but didn't sit down. He stood and stared at her, his eyes dark and so full of emotion she wanted to cry again.

Strong. Be strong.

Finally, he dropped his head, took in a deep, sighing breath, then raised his eyes to hers, locked there.

“I had no idea this would be so hard,” he said quietly.

She took a step toward him. “That what would be so hard?”

“Being with you. Being with anyone. It's always been easy for me. Have my fun then move on. But I can't live like that anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Her pulse was racing, her blood hot and thick in her veins.

He ran a hand through his short thatch of hair. “Fuck it, Devin. I love you. I'm in love with you.”

Tears rose, clogged her throat. All she could do was shake her head, all strength draining out of her in a warm rush of longing.

“I know,” he went on with a small shake of his head. “It's insane. We hardly know each other. But it doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm finally feeling something, for the first time since my mom died. Since I was six fucking years old. And it's because of you.”

In two long strides he was across the room. He held her arms. “You're shaking, Devin. Say something.”

She had to take a deep, gasping breath before she could speak. “Please don't say this unless you mean it, Shaye. Don't say this unless it means you're going to stay with me. I can't take it.”

“Jesus. I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you. I never want to hurt you again.” He paused, tightened his grip on her arms. “Do you love me, Devin?” His eyes were absolutely blazing.

She nodded slowly. “Yes. I love you. Goddamn it, you know I do!”

With that admission came her strength, flooding back in a wild rush.

“But I'm mad too. That you would do this to me. That even loving me, you could leave me the way you did, Shaye.”

“I know. It was a deplorable thing to do. Fucking awful. Be mad at me. I deserve it. But love me, anyway, Devin.” There was a pleading note in his voice.

“I do. I will. That's something you have to understand. That loving someone doesn't mean they'll leave. Even when things get hard.”

“You'll teach me.”

“Goddamn right I will.”

He pulled her close, crushed her body to his. When she lifted her chin, his mouth came down hard on hers, bruising, punishing. But it was exactly what she needed. His mouth was sweet and demanding all at once, just like him. She wouldn't have him any other way.

He pulled back, held her face in his hands and gazed down at her.

“I want it all, Devin. I want to be with you, only you. I want to take you back to Sanctuary, to put my collar around your neck. To make you mine completely. Do you understand what that means?”

“Yes.” Her heart was fluttering like a bird in her chest, needing to burst out, to fly. It meant he was hers, every bit as much as she belonged to him. Heart, body, soul.

He was the man of her dreams, lovely dreams she'd never even known she had, imperfections and all. And Shaye had been the one to show her. It hadn't been an easy journey, but then, nothing worth having came easily, did it?

“You hurt me, Shaye. I don't like that you can do that. But I accept it—that there is this one thing I have absolutely no control over. I have to if I'm going to love you, if you're going to love me. It's a risk I'm willing to take.”

“I realized the reason I left is that I couldn't handle that
you
could hurt
me
,” he admitted. “That it's actually possible for the first time in my empty fucking life for any woman to have that much power over me.”

“That's why we have to trust each other. Why we have to trust that we won't abuse that power. It's the same way I have to trust you when we're in the roles of Dominant and submissive. It's that same exchange of power that puts us on an even playing field. It balances it all out.”

He stroked her heated cheeks with his thumbs, the warmth of him seeping into her skin, then he bent his head and kissed her. This time it was a soft kiss, a tender kiss. A kiss filled with promise.

“I love you,” he whispered against her mouth. “I love you, Devin.”

The tears stung her eyes again. Her heart filled, swelled. And her body curled into his as though it belonged there. She was certain now that it did.

Yes, he would take her back to Sanctuary, collar her, and they would make that binding commitment to one another. But none of it could compare to the sense of absolute rightness she felt in his arms.

She had found her sanctuary with him.

About the Author

New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling
and award-winning author Eden Bradley aka Eve Berlin has published a number of novels and novellas, both print and e-books, with Berkley Heat, Bantam/Delta, Harlequin Spice & HQN, Black Lace Books and Samhain Publishing, as well as venturing into self-publishing. She has received or been nominated for numerous awards, including the Holt Medallion and the Passionate Plume, and several of her books have been RT Book Reviews Top Picks.
Her books have been translated into German, French, Romanian, Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, Czech, Polish and Japanese. Eden has appeared regularly on Playboy Radio and conducts workshops on writing craft and writing about sex.

She loves art, shoes, tattoos, her Boston Terrier puppy,
reading smutty books, chocolate and sex—of course, not necessarily in that order.

Visit Eden online:

Website:
www.EdenBradley.com

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www.Smutketeers.com

Twitter:
www.twitter.com/EdenBradley

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Look for these titles by Eden Bradley

Now Available:

Tempt Me Twice

Midnight Playground

The Seeking Kiss

Bloodsong

The Turning Kiss

Eversong

Rogue

Celestial Seductions

Winter Solstice

Spring Equinox

Summer Solstice

Wasteland Anthology

Wasteland: The Breeder

Coming Soon:

Ink & Iron

Obsession