Sweetest Taboo Read Online Free

his long, purposeful strides underscoring the urgency of his movements. He is as tall and gorgeous as always, but today his caramel colored hair is wild and unkempt, as if he’s spent hours unconsciously worrying it with his fingers. The angles of his sculpted face are more pronounced, the lines drawn from exhaustion, and it’s clear he hasn’t slept.
    Remnants of fear cling to him like palpable things, but there is joy, too. And when he whispers my name, it’s like a lifeline pulling us back together, making me whole. Making
us
whole.
    I watch as a tentative smile touches his lips, as relief fills those vibrant green eyes. I could drown in the depths of emotion I see there, and I hold out a hand, needing to touch him. Needing to know that he’s real.
    He hurries to me, his throat moving as he swallows, and a tear snakes its way down his cheek as he clasps my hand in his.
    It is as if his touch is an elixir, a magic potion that opens the doors of my memory, and I flinch. My heart pounds painfully in my chest, and I yank my hand free as memory floods through me, overwhelming me.
    He opens his mouth to say something, but I beat him to it.
“Colin.”
    It’s the only word I speak, but as I do, memories rush back, hard and horrible.
Oh, god. Oh, god.
I remember now—I remember it all—and I look at Dallas, sure my eyes are full of harsh accusations.
    He shakes his head, his face turning gray. “Jane—”
    “He’s trying, baby,” my mother says, and we both turn to stare at her. “Your brother’s been trying to get in touch with Colin to let him know what happened and that you’re here. That you’re okay.”
    “Has he?” I ask, shifting to look at Dallas again. I hear the edge in my voice. The bitter sarcasm. “I wonder why you haven’t been able to find him.”
    I want to scream and rage and rant, and I know that Dallas can see that on my face.
    “He must be traveling,” my mother says, unaware of the silent recriminations passing from me to Dallas. “Jane, sweetie, lie back. I don’t like your color. We need to get the nurse in to—”
    “No.” I force myself back against the pillow as my father steps into the room. “No, I’m feeling better. I’m just—I’m just so tired.” I don’t look at Dallas, but I know he understands me. I’m physically exhausted, yes. But that’s not what I mean. I’m tired of the lies. Of the secrets.
    I remember all the times I’d justified his secrets to myself because I knew he had stuff to deal with. All the times I’d asked him if he’d learned anything about our kidnapping. But never once had I suspected that he was keeping such a massive secret from me. That he would withhold his suspicion that Colin had been the Jailer. That Dallas would have the sheer audacity to suspect, capture, and incarcerate the man who started out as my birth father but became my friend.
    I don’t want to even think about the possibility that such a horrible thing is true, but Dallas should have told me. After all his promises, all his assurances that there would be no more secrets between us, he held back the one secret that ripped me to shreds and sent me running blindly from him, unable to process the depth of his deception. Unable to bear the weight of his lies.
    And though I’d wanted him beside me just moments ago, now I want him to leave. Except I don’t, because I want him to hold me. I want to go back in time. I want him to have never lied to me.
    I want him.
    I want us.
    And I’m terrified that we’ve lost everything that we’ve built. That we’ve lost each other.
    I draw a breath, then meet his eyes. “Go,” I say. “Just, please, go.”
    Shadows haunt his eyes as he shakes his head. “Jane, no.”
    I turn to my mother, as if this is a simple argument between siblings and she needs to step in and play arbiter the way she did when we were kids.
    But it’s not my mother who answers, it’s my dad, and I realize that I’d been so lost in the sight of Dallas