CHAPTER FORTY TWO
“I h-have d-done a terrible t-thing to y-you. The m-most terible t-thing.” Right on cue she caught his hand. The level of tenderness that rose in his gut, swamped everything else.
“That’s not possible, girl.”
“Yes. It is. B-because I did. I did it. I b-betrayed y-you. I betrayed y-you to Lyon. I t-told him y-you were the C-Cleanser. And I need … I just n-need your …“ He swallowed. What? His forgiveness? She had taken a bullet for him. She could have it with bells on. Sodding ones at that. Now he saw how shrunken, how haggard, how pale she was, what the hell else could he do here but give it? Lyon could just as easily have shot her in the head. So yes. Yes, he gave it.
He parted his lips. But maybe that was what she wanted Lyon to do? Bloody hell, the thought thudded, raking his scalp with shock, along with the thought it was something he understood. And he did. He understood. Only too well he understood. Everything. He leaned closer.