Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

He swallows and tightens his arms around my body. When
he speaks again, his voice is husky. “Tell me you forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive.”
I can tell his mind is going a million miles per hour, that
his mouth is crowded with words fighting to come out, but
after a long, tense pause, all he says is, “Yes, there is.”
His tone is so dark and chilling, it scares me. My intuition
buzzes, sending a cold tingle down my spine.
“Is there?”
He doesn’t speak for so long, I start hyperventilating.
Every horrible thing he could’ve possibly done that would
require my forgiveness flashes through my mind.
And every one of them involves another woman.
I lift my head and stare at his profile. He’s gazing up at the
ceiling, his jaw flexing.
“Kage?”
He turns his head and meets my eyes. His expression is
unfathomable. His voice thick, he says, “I’ve done terrible
things, Natalie. Things I can never undo. Things you would
hate me for if you knew about them.”
My heart thundering in panic, I try to roll off him. He
doesn’t let me. His arms are a vise.
Voice shaking, I say, “There’s someone else. Is that what
you’re telling me?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Because it sounds like—”
“I’m yours until the day I die,” he interrupts, his voice
hard. “You wear my ring. You own my heart. Never question
that.”
I examine his expression. Convinced he’s telling the truth,
I relax a little. But, still. What is he saying?
Hesitant, I say, “Do you want to tell me about these things
you’ve done?”