Page 114 of Too Far

And then what? Did he think that one minute would be enough to galvanize us until the next run-in? That it would pacify him for a while? That he could come back looking to steal another minute of my time when its effects wore off?

What about my wants? My needs?

What about the fresh wounds, just beginning to heal, that he’d reopen if I said yes to him?

Heat creeps up my neck as I silently seethe.

How dare he?

After I’ve lain in bed for what feels like an eternity, I sit up, more heated and aggravated than when I left Decker standing in the living room.

I quietly scoot to the foot of the bed for the second time tonight, grateful when both Locke and Kylian stay sound asleep.

When the door is latched behind me, I hoof it up the stairs, on a mission.

I don’t bother going slow or being quiet this time.

I don’t care if he knows I’m coming. He deserves everything coming his way.

The living room is quiet, but it was quiet before.

I scan the space, and when I find nothing but an empty room, I check the kitchen and the dining area. Unoccupied.

Hands fisted at my sides, I venture deeper into the house and down the hallway that leads to a set of bedrooms. I helped Kendrick get the girls settled into their room earlier, so I know which one is theirs, just like I know that K’s is right next door.

There’s another door at the end of the hall, which I discover is a linen closet. Then there’s a small half bath and an empty bedroom on the other side.

I turn the handle on the last door in this part of the house, and I’m met with another empty room.

Sighing, I take a step back, ready to pull the door closed, but the sound of water striking tiles stops me.

Then a tattered, broken cry echoes through the dark.

A bolt of concern shoots through me. I scurry toward the haze billowing out of the doorway, panicked.

But when I cross the threshold, I’m met with nothing but steam from the shower and the fogged-up mirror above the vanity.

That’s when my brain catches up. That’s when the identity of the person in the shower dawns on me.

“Decker?” I ask tentatively.

Because it could only be him.

I step farther into the room, shivering when my bare feet hit the cold floor.

Another step.

Another strangled sob rings out, reverberating off the tiles.

My heart bursts into a billion pieces.

Fragments. Fractures and slivers so thin, there’s no way to piece them back together. The edges don’t line up. It’s senseless to try to salvage something so utterly destroyed.

Because that’s what Decker did. Before we even had a shot at solidifying our connection. Before I could show him how deeply I loved him, he pushed me away and shattered my heart.

I freeze where I stand, my self-preservation warring with my desire to comfort him.

I should leave. Every iota of logic and reason I possess is urging me away from this place, from this man.