Young, Allyson - Broken [Running to Love 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) by Allyson Young Page B

tracked to her throat and saw the absence of his collar, an angry red welt apparent instead. He accepted the momentary reality of the situation and acquiesced. He turned and moved toward the couch in the living area of the suite, forcing himself to avoid looking at her again. If he did that, he would take her down into a world of pleasure, and while he knew her body would respond, she might hate him for it. She was clearly exhausted, on the edge, and despite the fact that everything in him cried out to push her and not leave her to think anymore, he wouldn’t risk her hatred. If she didn’t hate him already. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what the correct decision was to make.
    “I’ll sleep out here, Tabitha,” he said. “We’ll talk further in the morning.”
    Tabitha closed the bedroom door behind him. She didn’t turn the lock. She didn’t need to. The informal barrier underscored her earlier message. Kyle lay on the couch, his eyes open and fixed on the ceiling, his jaw taut, as he listened to the sounds of his woman in abject pain in the next room. He wanted to go to her, to comfort and reassure her, but held back, not knowing what to do for the first time in their relationship. When he could no longer hear her crying, his eyes drifted shut, and he lapsed into his first rest in nearly thirty-six hours.
    Kyle awoke late the next morning, initially disoriented, and then he recalled the events of the past two days. He sat up and swung his legs to the floor, looking toward the closed door of the bedroom. He hated to wake Tabi but needed the bathroom, and then he would slide in beside her, so she would awaken to his touch and listen to what he had to say. She would come to understand what had happened. Kyle eased the door open and walked silently to the bathroom. He used the toilet and scanned the room. It looked the same as it did the previous evening, but he had picked up on something different.
    Kyle re-entered the bedroom and moved toward the bed. A mound of linens covered her slender form, and he smiled with tenderness, remembering how chilled she got without him beside her in bed. His smile disappeared as he realized the only thing on the bed was the piled bedding, and he looked to see that the suitcase was gone. He had automatically registered its disappearance on the way to the bathroom but had subconsciously rejected the message it gave him.
    “Fuck,” he cursed. “God damn her, she got past me.”
    His words echoed in the empty room, mocking him. Kyle sat on the bed, his head in his hands. He spotted something shining on the bedside table and leaned over to pick it up. It was his collar, the delicate chain snapped through, the diamonds scattered and hanging along the double knotted strands. He was suddenly overcome with despair, and it rolled over his anger and frustration like a tidal wave. Tabitha had left him, and he didn’t know if he had the energy to find her again because, deep down, he didn’t think he could fix things. She didn’t trust him anymore. That rang like a death knell. He had been the only person in her life that had gained her trust, and he had let her down. That she still loved him he didn’t doubt. Her anguish the night before was proof of that, but there could be no relationship without trust, and Tabitha had been a broken individual when he’d met her. Only he had made her whole, and he suspected she was broken again, at best badly bent. No matter that the circumstances could be explained and, in actuality, absolve him, Tabitha’s world had crumbled around her, and she had taken on a survival persona harder and more resourceful than ever before. The very brittleness of that persona could spell disaster for her, but she wouldn’t know that. He didn’t know how he could live without her, but he likely had no choice. And he had never told her that he loved her, not once. What did that say about him?

Chapter Nine

    Tabitha boarded the flight to Portland,