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Want to Protect Her - 2

WHAT?!

The question ricochets around in my head, bouncing off every attempt I make to answer it. It’s nonsense. Madness. Is he insane? He must be insane to think I would ever be in love with someone who has tormented me since I was a child. He pissed on my mother’s grave and me just three nights ago! I hate Wesley Wrest. I HATE WESLEY WREST.

I hate him so much it makes my throat tight and tears well in my eyes. It makes me want to vomit at the thought of what he did to me tonight. It makes me…

Rafe’s rough fingers wipe the tears from my cheeks as he mutters apologies and begs me in his sweet, deep voice not to cry. He’s sorry for asking. He didn’t know what to think. He’s sorry.

It’s not his fault. And I’m not mad at him. But I can’t find the words or the strength to swallow the lump in my throat from my hatred of Wesley Wrest. But Rafael’s patient with me, soothing me with gentle kisses and touches until I am steady.

“I don’t love him,” I croak, forcing my voice out.

“Then why?
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