Page 36

Remi

He was breaking down my walls.

I think somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind I knew he always would. He was my kryptonite. The very thing that could fix everything that was broken inside me. I wanted to stay angry at him, but what was the point? He knew I would forgive him, and so did I.

It was inevitable.

He was inevitable. Like death, I couldn’t escape him.

One look, one smile, one whispered word and nothing around me mattered anymore. He had this hold on me I couldn’t shake. Didn’t even know if I wanted to. All I knew was that I wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. Eventually, I would give in and my world would spiral once more until he consumed every inch of me.

I didn’t know if what we had was toxic, but I knew I couldn’t, or didn’t want to live this life without him. He was a ghost, a lingering memory that seared himself to my soul, haunting me in my dreams, whispering endearments while he enticed me. I couldn’t close my eyes and not see him, smell him, feel him. He was everywhere and nowhere.

I thought I could do this.

I was wrong.

I wasn’t strong enough to tell him no. I knew that now. Like the time I showed up here all those years ago, I allowed him to consume me, to take over, so I wouldn’t have to deal with the truth anymore.

The truth was, he broke me and only he could fix me.

“Remi?”

I looked up and saw Ink looking at me.

I didn’t remember sitting at the bar. I wasn’t a drinker. Never cared for the stuff, yet that didn’t stop me from asking, “May I please have a whiskey?”

Ink blinked, his eyes shooting at something behind me.

“I’ve got this, Ink,” he said, walking out of the shadows. “Tell everyone to stay away.”

“Sure thing, Reaper,” my friend muttered, his face marred with concern as he walked away.

I fucking knew he wouldn’t leave me alone, he never could. He placed a tumbler in front of me and poured my drink. I knew he wouldn’t deny me. What shocked me was, instead of pouring himself one, he opened a bottle of water.

Wrapping my fingers around the glass, I took a deep breath, raised the glass to my lips, and took a small sip. The burn of the whiskey hit me hard and I gasped, damn near choking on the dark amber liquid.

Time moved slowly as I sat at the bar, and he said nothing, merely refilling my glass when it was empty. The longer I sat there, the more I drank and the angrier I got, until I couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“I hate this shit.”

“I know.”

“I see why you like it, though. Liquid courage, right?”

He nodded. “Among other things.”

“You broke me.”

“I know.”

Taking another drink, I shook my head.

“Do you?” I snarked as I glared at him. “Because from where I’m sitting, I don’t think you do. Would you like me to tell you? Would you like to know how I felt when I saw you with that woman? How you tore my heart from my chest and left me a shell of someone I barely recognized? Or would you like to know the pain you caused the kids? How Emma refused to talk to me or how Jesse cried out for you in the middle of the night?”

“Baby—”

“NO!” I screamed, throwing my glass against the wall. “You don’t get to say shit until I’m finished. What you did, how you went about it, was wrong. So fucking wrong. If it was just me, I could understand, but you included the kids. Whether you meant to or not, I don’t know, but they got hurt in the crossfire, and that I can’t forgive. And everyone else? What the fuck were you thinking, because you sure as hell weren’t thinking about us? You never did! All you cared about was your precious fucking pact with those fucking idiots and look what happened. They fucking ruined us!”

“I know.”

“Do you? Because while you were off doing whatever the fuck it was you were doing, I thought I’d killed the man I loved. They made me believe I killed you! Do you know what that did to me?”

“Yes.”

“I wanted to die, Max!” I screamed, and he flinched. “I thought about ending it all. I couldn’t see a way out of the darkness. I never could without you. You kept my nightmares away, and when you were gone, they came back in force. They suffocated me! I couldn’t breathe. I just wanted it all to end. I didn’t want to live in a world where you didn’t exist. You made me believe in it, and in the blink of an eye, it was all gone, and I don’t know how to get it back. It’s all your fault!”

“I’m sorry.”

Shaking my head, I muttered, “Stop saying that, because I fucking know you would do it all again in a heartbeat.”

“You’re right, I would. I will do anything to protect you.”

“That’s just it, Max,” I groaned. “You wouldn’t have had to if you had just told me what was going on. You know damn well I would have gone along with any fucking plan you came up with. I adored you. I just wanted you. You made me believe that together we could do anything, survive anything. Instead of trusting me, those sick fucks made me believe the worst in you and I can’t get it out of my head. I close my eyes at night and all I see is you with her!”

He stood there, saying nothing.

What could he say? He knew he was guilty, just like Montana and Maxim. All three of them were the villains in my story. They all had a hand in breaking the one thing inside me I believed was unbreakable—my trust in the man I loved above all others.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I shouldn’t have come back.”

Getting up from the bar, I headed for the front door when I heard him say, “You leave me and you might as well put the bullet in my head for good this time, because I refuse to live my life without you. You think you were the only one betrayed in this fucked-up mess? Well, baby, you weren’t. Yes, I trusted two men I shouldn’t have. That is on me, and I promise you, those fuckers will pay dearly for what they did to us, but don’t you fucking stand there and tell me I broke you, when you had no fucking problem moving on from me?”

Spinning around, I glared. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Seething, he stalked me. “I’m talking about that motherfucker who had his hands all over what was mine. I saw you, Remi. In California. I watched while he held you. That I could forgive, but when I saw him kiss you in Oklahoma, well, baby, that motherfucker is dead when I get my hands on him. I don’t give a flying fuck who he is or what he means to you. I promised you a long time ago that no one would ever touch you again and live, and I always keep my promises where you are concerned. Fucker is a dead man walking.”

Shaking my head, I looked at him as he continued.

“You want to blame me? Go ahead. I can take it, but don’t you fucking dare put the whole blame on me for breaking us because it wasn’t my lips on another man?”

“No, it was just your dick in another woman,” I seethed.

“You know damn well I didn’t fuck that cunt.”

Sneering, I replied, “Just like I know you saw me slap him when he kissed me.”

Firmly grabbing my arms, he hauled me close. “I’m still going to fucking kill him, but in the meantime...”

Before I could blink, he kissed me hard.

Ruthlessly.

It was a claiming kiss, and he made damn sure I knew who I belonged to. It was harsh, unforgiving, and he demanded my submission, as his tongue delved between my lips to plunder my mouth, coaxing a response. Despite my anger, I couldn’t help but give it as my arms wrapped around his shoulders and my tongue tangled with his. He growled, breaking the kiss for a moment to bend down and grab my thighs, hoisting me up and wrapping my legs around his hips.

My startled squeak was smothered by his lips. He overwhelmed my senses. His body surrounded mine protectively as he pinned me against the nearest wall, helpless before him.

I didn’t feel helpless, though.

I was never helpless with him.

Our lips met as equals; our kiss was give and take, unlike the one I’d shared with Dakota, where I felt nothing but revulsion.

I ground my hips against his, feeling his hard cock pressed against me through his pants, as I earned a low groan. It was quickly followed by my own gasp, when his hands shifted around to my ass, using it as a handhold to grind himself against me harder. We writhed against that wall, lost in our pleasure, in the intoxicating need that always sprung up when we touched.

Finally, breathless, he pulled back.

I stared up at him through glazed eyes, letting my head fall back against the wall while I struggled to calm my racing heart. When I could finally think again, I glared at him, my hands going from clinging to shoving, and I pushed hard, as my legs fell to the ground.

The son of a bitch smirked when I narrowed my eyes.

“That meant nothing.”

“Oh, baby, that fucking kiss told me all I needed to know,” he clearly said as he turned and walked away, whistling happily.

Rat bastard.