Nico
"The child isn't mine," the words left my mouth before I could stop them. They're sharp. Spoken immediately and instinctively. Because her voice — that quiet and broken whisper — was still lodged in my chest like a knife.
I deserve to be loved in the light. God, that sentence gutted me. I have been shot before. I've been stabbed, beaten and tortured. I've been beaten until my ribs cracked and bones shattered. But nothing has ever felt like that.
She stood across from me now, fragile but unyielding. Her chin was lifted in that defiant way that she does when she's bracing for impact. Proud and strong. It had my c**k aching for her, but now was not the time. Tears clung to her lashes, but they refused to fall. She wont beg. She already told us that. But I'm not above begging.
"I w
