Buckled (Trails of Sin, #2)

by Pam Godwin

A man cannot be good unless he possesses the capacity to be evil. Decency is a choice. It’s being tempted by hatred and following a different path no matter how difficult. It’s looking inward with a magnifying glass and acknowledging the flaws and weaknesses in one’s character.

Fuck it all if I find that person. I’ll latch on so tightly she won’t stand a chance. I’ll move mountains. Stake my claim. Piss all over my territory. Rearrange my entire existence until we buckle together beneath the intensity. I want what Jake had with Conor. I fucking crave it.

We don’t just love. We love hard, with every bone, sinew, and breath in our bodies.

“You belong to me.” He prowls closer. “I’ll piss a circle around you if I have to. I’ll move mountains and rearrange my entire existence. I’m not giving you up.”

“I know how your mind works. You’re brilliant and genuine. You’re passionate about what you believe in, and you’re not afraid to fight. I know your expressions, your smiles, the octaves of your laughter, the loneliness behind your frown. You store your soul in your eyes. You fidget with your hair when you’re nervous, let the ice melt in your soda before you drink it, and you hate to be alone. You’ve never had a one-night-stand.”

My heart already decided. It moved in with him, slept in his arms, and surrendered itself in the middle of a thunderstorm. My damn heart forgot that love sucks, that it scars the soul, tramples trust, and hollows out the body.

It’s cruelty in its most primitive form, love in its deepest, most passionate state. It’s animalistic mating, unbound and stripped bare, a connection that defies civility.

“But I came here searching for answers. I’ve been searching for so long and feel like I’m everywhere and nowhere at all.” “You’re where you’re supposed to be, where you belong.” “I own nothing.” “You own me.”

Jarret Holsten isn’t a man I can move on from. He’s the man I will never know as deeply as I want even as he forever owns my heart. This isn’t a break-up. It’s a separation of souls.

“Take your space, your time, whatever you need. But I won’t let you take forever. That belongs to me. Your forever is mine.”

Love heals. It’s a universal balm that repairs fractures, soothes pain, and stitches the heart into wholeness again. Love is meant to buckle the strongest and fiercest person. It’s the very thing the soul cries for. To recoil from that is to reject the most powerful medicine, the greatest cure for loneliness. With love, even the darkest season of guilt and betrayal can be defeated.

During my darkest moments, my love for her kept my mind from sinking into the mire. As deep as I fell, she was my solid ground, steadying me, lifting me back on my feet. The feelings I harbor for her will never end. Not when my body ceases to function. Not when my soul releases for whatever comes next. Even in death, I won’t let her go. She’s my serenity and my fire, my first and last breath. Lying beside her is my favorite place, and for the rest of my life and into the next, she’s all mine.

She loves it, and I love her, any way and any chance I can have her. A hard fuck, a vanilla tumble, a red welt, a tender kiss—I love her in all the colors and levels of intensity, and she lets me. I’m a lucky son of a bitch.