Page 140
Story: V for Vampire Hunter
Cry?
I hadn’t realized I’d been crying until the other Hunter mentioned it, and I rushed to wipe away what I could. Sloan came closer, brushing his thumbs across the wet streams making their way down my face. And then he sighed, face distorted somewhat as I struggled to stop.
“Have I overstepped? I’m sorry, V. It’s my fault this happened.”
I swallowed around the constriction in my throat. “You didn’t. You haven’t got anything to say sorry about. It’s just...”
“You never expected he’d act like it was nothing?” he supplied softly, and his words only drove the knife deeper into my heart. It hurt to hear it put so articulately, and another hot stream of tears burned down my cheeks. With a deep, visible sigh, Sloan wrapped his arms around me and brought my smaller frame into the heat of his larger one. “He’s barking mad, isn’t he, making this precious lass cry.”
Hearing Sloan grumble in a way I’d never heard on him made me laugh through stuttered sobs, and the arms around me squeezed harder. I wanted to push away from his muscular prison and regain the strong person I always managed to be, but the gorgeous bastard’s embrace was so warm and safe. So, the last I-don’t-know-how-many-weeks hit all at once. I cried harder than I ever had. I let go of all the pain, all the heartbreak, all the loss.
I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore.
34
Plans Gone Awry
IT WAS MAYBE MINUTES. Hours? The length of time didn’t matter. Everything changed before I realized what was truly happening. My skin crawled with the feeling of something sinister and out of place. The sensation of the barrier being torn through struck seconds later, and it was what we’d been waiting for all this time: our signal to leave.
First, Phillip swiftly flew down the staircase like a bat out of fucking hell, several traps setting off in his wake, and the sounds of fighting carried upstairs in the wake of his swift departure. Only a heartbeat later, Sloan had me by the arm and led me to one of the escapes we’d secured earlier that evening, his whispered voice promising Phil would be fine.
But would he? Would I regret not staying? Would I wish I’d been stronger and less concerned about my own safety? Would I wonder what could’ve been said between us before or maybe even after I kissed Sloan? My head was locked in confused thoughts. One after another, they plagued a sound mind.
I’ll never forgive myself if he dies.
I had enjoyed the kiss shared with someone that wasn’t the Austrian, and I wasn’t sure what that all meant. Was I really some hussy who could fly from man to man when the opportunity arose? Was I reallythisstarved for affection that any dude with a good-looking face was enough to satisfy me?
I’d moved from Nigel to Phil just as quickly. I hesitated, sure, but definitely not for long. And here I was, doing it again like it was the way things were. Like I’d never have real feelings. Like I was incapable of love. I counted myself loyal and true. I boasted about a resolve of steel and a heart of gold. Okay, maybe not a heart of gold, but I wanted to believe I wasn’t so fickle that I claimed feeling for one while kissing another.
That’s the kind of thing Cici would’ve done.
It was a sad day when that bitch and I had anything in common, and that reality alone hit like lead in my stomach.
Then again, maybe it was like Sloan said; I needed to explore more before picking my forever person. It sucked to admit I was young, but that was the reality. Maybe I’d benefit from not labeling anything I entered into with heavy names like love. Maybe I should live as my teenage hormones dictated I should. Or maybe I was full of shit and scared of what it meant to acknowledge feelings deeper than sex for Phil.
Whatever the reason, Phil made it clear he wasn’t going to chase after me, and if I was honest with myself, that hurt more than anything else he’d ever said or done. And if he died here today, I’d never know what this thing between us was.
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