Pretty sure.

Ray wraps his leather jacket around me, but after fifteen minutes on his bike, we’re both soaked through, and with no sign of the rain letting up, he pulls off the main road and into an alley behind a fancy hotel. After parking his bike beside a Dumpster, he leads me to the protected alcove of the emergency exit. A mouse scurries away from a pile of old clothing in the corner, and the scent of stale piss and alcohol makes my nose wrinkle.

Ray places our helmets in a dry corner and then pulls a bandanna from his jacket pocket to wipe my face. Pat. Pat. Pat. His touch is so gentle that I know he is feeling guilty for making me wet. But dammit, he should be feeling guilty for a hell of a lot more.

“I can’t believe you did that.” My words, when they finally come, slip and slide over each other as they rush off my tongue. “I can’t believe you went behind my back and did what I explicitly asked you not to do. This wasn’t your fight; it was mine. The decision to let it lie was mine. And Tag…I didn’t want him involved anymore either. He sacrificed enough for me. I destroyed one of his careers, and now it looks like I’ll destroy another.”

Ray steps back, stunned. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“Happy?” My voice rises in pitch. “Happy for him to know I’m still around, and that there’s still a possibility I might report it to the police? Did anyone ever tell you an animal is more dangerous when it’s wounded? Now he’ll come looking for me. What if he recognizes Tag? You don’t know his family—the power they have, the things they said they would do.”

“I know all about them. I don’t go into things half-assed, Sia. I’ve covered our tracks, and you don’t have to be scared. If they ever threaten you or your family, I have the resources to make sure those threats never come to fruition.”

“I thought you were giving it up, whatever it is that you think puts you above the law and gives you access to information and powers other people don’t have.”

He flinches as if I hit him, and I wonder if he’s really thought through what he intends to give up for me.

“But that’s not even the biggest issue,” I say, my voice shaking with emotion. “The issue is trust. I trusted you to respect my decisions. I trusted you to respect my wishes. I trusted you to let me live my life the way I wanted to live it. This is exactly what happened with the mural in the tattoo studio. I didn’t tell you so you could do something about it. I just wanted you to know.”

“But you’re not living your life the way you want to live it.” Ray scrubs a hand through his hair. “You’re hiding behind the tats and the leather and the piercings. But I see you, Sia. I see the softness and vulnerability you try to hide. I see your pain and I want to take it away. I see an artist who has stifled her own creativity, and I want to set her free.”

“By beating a man half to death?”

His eyes narrow. “I told you I would keep you safe, and there are no limits to what I would do to make that happen.”

“What you did is a limit for me. Breaking my trust is a limit for me.”

“Don’t.” His voice breaks and he takes a step toward me.

But I’m on a roll, and my pain and frustration need an outlet. “For the longest time, I just wanted to be normal. I wanted to forget about the past. I wanted to be with a man and have sex the way I always fantasized about and not worry about panic attacks and PTSD. And then I met you, and I realized there is no such thing as normal, that maybe the problem was I had never let anyone get close. And I could have what I wanted as long as I felt safe and protected. I realized what I had really wanted was to be able to trust again—not just someone else, but myself. I trusted you. I gave myself to you. And now I realize it was all a mistake.”

He reaches for me and pulls me into his arms. “Please, Sia…”

“I know what you did came from a good place.” I try to pull away, but he tightens his grip. “I understand what you were trying to do, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I can’t deal with this anymore. I can’t handle the secrets. I don’t want to get hurt more than I already am. You’re not the right—”

Ray cuts me off with a kiss, hard, desperate, wanting. “Don’t push me away.”

“God, Ray,” I whisper. “I don’t want to. I have to. But I wish I were wrong. I ache for you.”

And then, because I want him so much, and it feels so right to be in his arms, and this might be the last time we’re together, I kiss him back, trying to let him know what is in my heart that my head won’t let me say, while the rain thunders down outside the alcove, washing the alley clean. Please, rain, wash my pain away.

Sliding my arms around Ray’s waist, I tug him out into the alley and push him against the wall. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you. I never stopped wanting you.” I brush my lips over his, sliding my tongue over the seam until he opens them for me. “I want you now more than I ever wanted you before. And I’ll never stop wanting you, even when I can’t see you again.”

“Here?”

“Yes, here.” I place his hands on my hips. “Or is it still too dangerous? I thought you had that sorted out.”

He looks up and down the alley and shakes his head. “I do.”

Frustrated by his unmoving hands, I slide them up farther and place them on my breasts. “No one is going to be out in this rain, much less see us in a dark alley. Please, Ray. I need you. One last time. I want to remember what it feels like to be yours.”