Page 68

Story: Climbing Everest

I take a step closer, until I’m looking down my nose at her. “Unless they’re paying you?”

This time, I’m prepared when she raises her hand to slap me. I catch her wrist and hold it tight, using her forward momentum to drag her closer until she’s pressed flush against my body.

Tendrils of hair lift with her heavy panting as she glares into my face. “What happened to you? Where did my Kato go?” she whispers, but there’s no softness to the tone.

“What happened? You really need to ask that? I lost my child. I lost my wife. I killed my own father to protect you.” The words come out in a growl as all that anger from the past bubbles to the surface.

I’m fucking this up. I’m fucking it all up. I’m fully aware of that. Yet I can’t stop my fucking lips from moving, can’t stop the words pouring from my mouth.

“I lost my child, too!” she screams, attempting to yank from my grasp. “I almost fucking died to protect you, to protect the three of you.”

“He already knew it was us,” I say, glancing down at where the skimpy sleep tank barely covers her tattooed and scarred skin.

“I didn’t know that, asshole. I thought…I was terrified that if I told him, he would have you all killed. Then I would have lost everything. I was prepared to die that night, prepared to die for you three and all I kept thinking the whole time was I hoped you could forgive me for not fighting harder to protect our baby. I kept praying you three would grieve my death then move on, fall in love, have families. And the whole time…” She sniffles. “Evennow, you fucking hate me for something I couldn’t control.”

Tears well in her eyes then stream over her lashes and down her cheeks.

I’m pretty sure a knee to the balls would hurt less than the way I feel right now. Her words are like a physical strike, like someone shoved a serrated knife directly into my heart and twisted it.

She doesn’t say anything else. In fact, she drops her eyes from my face and her shoulders curl forward, as though the weight of our past is too much for her.

And why wouldn’t it be when I constantly open my big fucking mouth and make her feel like shit.

I don’t intend to. I never want to hurt her but any time I get scared, like thinking about losing one of my people to this crazy ass idea of hers to get Viktor away from her father, I lash out verbally. I would never hit her, never physically hurt her.

But words can sometimes do far more damage than a fist.

“Fuck,” I grit out between clenched teeth.

Lifting my free arm, I wrap it around her back and hug her to me, holding tight when she pushes at me in a feeble attempt to free herself from my hold. I say feeble because there’s very little energy to her little shoves.

Her breath hitches on a quiet sob, and I swear I can literally feel my heart cracking a little more.

“Fuck, E. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of that shit.”

She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t tilt her head back to look into my face, doesn’t even try to pull away from me anymore, as though all the fight has left her body.

As thoughIfinally stole the last of her fight.

I hate that shit.

I love when she’s riled up, when she’s defiant, I love the fire in her eyes. I refuse to be the one to douse the fucking flame.

Her body shakes again, another of those quiet sobs. I release her wrist and wrap my other arm around her, threading my fingers through her hair to cup the back of her skull, holding her tightly against my body and not caring one bit that I’m getting sweat all over her.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly, leaning down to rest my cheek on the top of her head.

I’m such a dick. Why the hell would she even want me in her life? How she ever loved me to begin with will always be a mystery.

Then again, I wasn’t always this big of an asshole. Part of my soul was ripped away from me and turned me into someone else, just like Brix and Madd, but the missing piece is back. My soul iswhole again. While my heart might still be in slivers and riddled with cracks, it’ll heal as long as I have Everest.

If I continue pushing her like this, if I keep letting my anger and the hurt feelings from the past control my mouth, I’ll lose her.

Maybe not physically – I will never let her out of my sight again.

Losing her trust, her loyalty, and her love would be even worse than if she were to walk through the front door and disappear for good.

Lowering to my knees, I keep my arms wrapped around her waist and bury my face in her stomach.