Ruthless Regret (Ruthless Games Duology #2)

Chapter 36

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

ASHLEY

I don’t know why I ask that question. Maybe it’s the nightmare still gripping me, or maybe it’s because I’m too exhausted to keep up the fight. But when I ask how he lives with what he saw, it’s because at that moment I need to know. I need to understand how he’s carried it without letting it break him.

His reaction is subtle, a flicker in his eyes, a tightening of his jaw. I don’t think he’s going to answer me, but then he does, and his voice is rough, like the admission is forced out of him.

“I don’t sleep much.”

That’s it. No further explanation. It’s the simplest answer in the world. It’s the most complicated answer in the world.

I drag in a shaky breath, the residual effects of the nightmare still lingering. Zain just stands there. His presence is steady, yet different. The hostility that’s been there since our first meeting has gone, replaced by a quiet understanding. Maybe he knows what it’s like to wake up choking on your own fear.

“I had nightmares after it first happened, but once I moved away … got out of town … they stopped,” I admit quietly, needing to fill the silence.

He doesn’t react, and his silence makes it easier to keep talking. His stillness is weirdly comforting, grounding me in a way I wasn’t expecting.

“I thought they’d gone for good. I thought I knew the truth.” I risk a glance at him. “You were locked away, and I didn’t have to think about it anymore. I could finally breathe.” The words catch in my throat. “But then … everything changed. And the nightmares came back.”

I don’t have to explain what everything is. He knows. He was released. He came back to town. He forced me to marry him … and I discovered he wasn’t the villain … I was.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore.” My voice wobbles.

His eyes darken, but he doesn’t move.

“How do you deal with it? When everything has been turned upside down?”

I don’t expect an answer. Not really. But I need to say it out loud, even if it doesn’t make any sense.

“You don’t.” His voice is rough. “You just learn how to survive.”

I meet his gaze again, and for the first time, I don’t see the cold, controlled, man who forced me to marry him. I see someone else. Someone who’s still haunted by the past. Someone who’s been carrying the weight of everything he’s lived through … everything I put him through … alone.

“I guess we’ll both have to figure out how to deal with it.” I’m talking to myself more than him.

This time when I look at him, I take in the hard lines of his face, and my stomach flips. There’s a flicker of something between us. An understanding. A connection I don’t really want to acknowledge, but I can’t avoid it. It’s there, raw and undeniable. It makes me shift uncomfortably on the bed, while he watches me out of dark, steady eyes that seem to see everything I’m trying to hide.

The tension between us feels different now. It’s no longer full of sharp hostility. It’s softer, but just as dangerous.

I don’t ask what he’s thinking. I don’t want to know. But the air is charged, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re standing on the edge of something we won’t be able to come back from.

He shifts his weight, and I look away, trying to push away the odd feeling spreading through me. But the way he’s looking at me now … it’s like he sees me. Really sees me. Not the young girl who stole his freedom, or the woman he wanted to destroy, but the person underneath it all.

And it scares me.

He moves, turning away slightly, but his gaze lingers on me for a moment longer, and then he’s striding across the room toward the door again.

“Zain, wait.” The words slip out before I can stop them. “I … I don’t want to be alone.” I don’t even know why I say it, and for a long moment he doesn’t move. I half expect him to leave anyway, to walk out and close the door.

But then he turns back, his gaze locking onto mine, and walks slowly back to my side.

Embarrassment courses through me. Admitting I don’t want to be alone feels like the most vulnerable thing I’ve ever said, but the words are already out, and I can’t take them back.

“I just … I don’t want to have any more nightmares.” I shake my head. “It’s stupid. It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to stay.”

He doesn’t say anything, his head tilting as he looks down at me. And then without a word, he moves to the chair near the window and sits down.

I blink, thrown by his behavior.

“Really, you don’t?—”

“I’ll stay.” His voice is low and steady. There’s no hesitation, no uncertainty in his words. He’s made up his mind. And for some reason, that reassures me more than anything else.

The tension in the room shifts again, and for the first time since I woke up from the nightmare, I feel like I can breathe.

“Get some sleep.” His words are quiet, more of a suggestion than an order.

I should get up, change into pajamas, but the thought of doing anything that might make me feel more vulnerable stops me. So I stay where I am, shuffling down the bed until I’m lying down, and pull the covers up to my chin.

I try to relax, but it’s hard. My mind won’t let me. There’s too many thoughts and emotions swirling around inside me—fear, relief … confusion.

Knowing Zain is close, and that he’s not leaving … it shouldn’t matter.

But it does.

I close my eyes, and try to focus on sleep, while the awareness of him sitting just a few feet away teases the edges of my consciousness.

I steal a glance at him through my lashes. He’s still, barely moving, but there’s something about the way he sits there, watching over me, that makes me feel secure. I turn my head away, staring up at the ceiling, and force myself to focus on anything else.

I should hate him. I should still be afraid. But right now, the only thing I feel is … safe.

It’s strange.

I’ve never felt safe with him before, yet there’s a quiet reassurance in his presence.

I’ve never felt safer being watched over by someone I should hate.