Better When He's Brave Page 55
“What did he do?” I barely breathed the words, fascinated by this other side of him.
“There was a video. Gus wasn’t the shy type. She moved me into her mansion, got me into a fancy Hill private school, and let me stay there until I graduated. I blackmailed my way into a future, and I left my little brother behind to fend for himself while I did it. I wish I could tell you I did it all so I could go back and help Bax and my mom, so that I could take care of them, but I did it because I wanted to be more than a broke kid from the inner city. It wasn’t about the money; it was about the way people looked at me. With a uniform I got respect, and it didn’t matter if I was on the Hill or in the gutter of the Point. I mattered. It was in my first year on patrol that I realized I could actually make a difference. I could stop kids like Bax from getting sucked into the criminal underground. I could help young girls have something more than a corner to work on. I could make a difference and matter in a way that actually counted for something while being a better man and placing myself as far away from the legacy of Elias King as possible. I wanted the innocent, the people that still had a chance to make the right kind of choices, to have a shot. My reasons for being a cop didn’t start out anywhere near as altruistic and noble as most people think, and I have to live with that. That’s why I work so hard, why everyone out there in my city—good or bad—matters to me. Everyone has choices to make, Reeve, and they aren’t always going to be the right ones. Sometimes they’re the necessary ones. Just because you do bad things doesn’t automatically make you a bad person. There is a gray area there that I have a tendency to ignore because I don’t want to be reminded that I spent plenty of time there myself. That isn’t fair to you.”
The car finally skidded to a stop in a shower of gravel and dust. The headlights illuminated the drop-off in front of us. The moon was high in the sky, forcing its way through smog and clouds to shine silver. It was the same color as Titus’s eyes when he was turned on, when he was buried deep inside of me.
“I haven’t had my parents in my life for a long time, so I shouldn’t feel like I lost them. But I do.”
“I felt that way when I locked Bax up. I knew he wouldn’t understand that I had to do my job, and when he got out, the first time I saw him he punched me in the face. He hated me.” He turned off the car and reached out a finger to twist a piece of my long hair around it.
“Don’t let Roark win. Once everything is settled, go back to them and make them understand.”
I turned to look at him. He was fierce in the shadowy light. He was what heroes were supposed to look like no matter the path he had taken to become one.
“I don’t even know if I understand. At the time it felt like my only choice. Now I’m not so sure.” I leaned across the space separating us and brushed my knuckles across his still-bristly cheek. He was almost in full beard mode and it looked so good on him. “Lately the only thing I understand is you, Titus.”
He lifted one of his dark eyebrows at me and asked, “What is it that you understand about me, Reeve?”
“That you make everything better. You make me better, and I might never be good enough for you, but you make me feel like I can get close.”
One of his hands slid down to my wrist and the next thing I knew he was guiding me over the console and the emergency brake so that I was straddled across him with my back to the steering wheel. I hadn’t been in a car like this with a boy since I was a teenager. I kind of liked it. More than kind of.
“You make everything better too, Reeve, and there is no good enough because this with you is the best there has ever been.” And then his mouth was on mine and I didn’t get a chance to tell him we had left this behind and were now firmly venturing into more. Knowing that Titus was flawed, that he had made some questionable choices on his road to becoming the man he was today, made me love him even more. Where he was from was even uglier than where I was from, and that was beautiful to me. So was the way he was pulling on my clothes and kissing me along my throat.
I pulled back a little and met those glowing metallic eyes. “I tame your beast all the time, Titus. I think after that scene with my parents you need to try and soothe mine. She can use some petting and some coddling.” I wanted to do to him what he did to me but in a different way. I wanted to manhandle him with softness, rough him up with tenderness, love him up until he was breathless and boneless under light touches and barely-there kisses. I wanted to kill him with kindness. We both had had so little of it in our lives we could get drunk on it and forget about the rest of the world for just a little bit.
His eyebrows shot up to his hairline and he lifted both of his hands off of my skin.
“Give her to me.”
Once I did, he was going to have to keep her. My beast made of gentleness and compassion was made to fit perfectly against his beast made of hardness and fight.
Chapter 14
Titus
I COULD COUNT THE number of people I had willingly talked about my father with on one hand, and I shared blood with two of them. I never talked about my parents, about where I had come from or how I had ended up where I was now. I didn’t like to think about it. Those memories made me feel like a fraud, like a fake, like a phony. It didn’t matter how dedicated to the law I was, how focused on helping others, or how much of myself I devoted to trying to make a difference in this godforsaken place. Underneath it all I was no different from Bax or Race. Hell, I was actually just as cold and just as manipulative as Nassir when it came right down to it. I hurt others to get what I wanted, and I did it without remorse, because the truth of the matter was I would do the exact same thing over again if that was the only way out I had.
Reeve talked about the beast inside of me and she was right. The basic parts of who I was still had huge chunks of that angry kid with a killer for a dad and a drunk for a mom making me the man I was today. There was still a little boy that was hungry because there was never any food and scared because he had a little brother he was never going to be able to take care of properly. And while I tried to hide it, tried to keep it all locked away, the more time I spent on the streets, the more time I spent with this woman who understood the darkness and despair, the closer to the surface those angry memories climbed.
She was sitting on top of me, one of her hands hard and insistent in my hair as she pulled me closer to her mouth. The other was yanking on the already loose knot of my tie and violently tugging at the buttons on my shirt. I never knew impatience could be such a turn-on.