“Your ex, Tess, that motherfucker needed to be taken down. That motherfucker is serious bad news.”

My body went completely still at his words and I held his eyes as my next words trembled. “I know that, Brock. I know.”

And it was then I watched with rapt attention as his eyes immediately melted quicksilver and his hands moved from the counter to my head, palms at the base of my neck, fingers in my hair, and his face dipped an inch away from mine.

Then he whispered a ragged, tortured “baby,” and that one word cut through me like a jagged knife.

Oh God.

He knew.

Of course he knew.

Of course, of course, of course.

That thing tight in my belly uncurled, filling me up, slinking up my throat and this time it wasn’t filled with the paralyzing poison of fear or despair. It was something else.

Panic.

I tried to tear away but Brock held on. One hand still at my head, the other arm sliced around my back, he shuffled me down the counter and pressed me into the corner.

With no way to escape, I held my body tight, hands pressed against his chest, and kept my eyes glued to his throat as I whispered, “Let me go and get out.”

“No one knows that shit happened to you, do they?” he asked softly.

“Let me go and get out.”

“You haven’t told any of your girls.”

Eyes firm on his throat, I demanded, “Let me go, Brock, and get out.”

“Kept that shit buried deep,” he murmured.

My eyes lifted to his and I screeched, “Let me go and get out!”

His arm around my back tightened and his hand shifted so his fingers were still in my hair but his thumb swept over my cheekbone.

“I was the first you let in there, wasn’t I, baby?”

Oh God.

“Let me go and get out,” I whimpered.

“Tess,” he whispered.

I fell silent.

“You need to let that shit out,” he advised and my gaze slid to his earlobe. “Eyes,” he ordered and my gaze slid back.

I still didn’t speak.

He held my eyes.

Then he said softly, “I held back takin’ us there, Tess. I didn’t want us to go there until the shit with Heller was done and you were cleared and we were good to move on. But your goddamned glasses and that cute fuckin’ look you’d get on your face every time I kissed you that made you look like you just experienced a fuckin’ miracle, shit.” His hand tensed on my head. “Shit, baby, you got to me and I couldn’t hold back.” His thumb swept my cheekbone. His eyes went from warm to hot and his voice went deep when he told me something, but he said it like he was talking to himself, “That look gets way fuckin’ better after you come.”