Destroyed(123)

Even now, Clara was driving me insane.

Fox came forward. “Please. I know how hard this must be for you. Let me explain.”

Anger exploded out of me. “Explain? Explain?” My broken heart rallied in my chest, throwing off melancholy and thrumming hot and furious. “How about I explain? You. Left. Me. You ran when I needed you the most.” I waved my hand, wanting to hit him. “Your promises of wanting us—of working to deserve us—it was all bullshit. You never changed. You watched my little girl die—the same girl you’d hoped would cure you—and you ran because there was nothing else for you to stay for.”

All the greyness and sadness inside me suddenly erupted into gold sparks. I shoved him back with a finger to his sternum. “What do you want me to say, Fox? That I’m sorry you’re hurting. That I’m sorry you fell in love with her only to have her gone so soon?” I threw my hands up. “Do you want me to forgive you for leaving me shattered and all alone in your office? That it didn’t f*cking ruin me that I had to cry into Oscar’s arms, or Ben’s and never yours? How about the fact that no matter what you promise you always break them! You’ll never be able to give me what I need. You’ll never be able to hold me or even sleep beside me.”

Everything angry and crazy inside suddenly simmered, like a hurricane that ran out of puff. I sighed heavily. “I don’t know what you want from me, Fox. And frankly, I don’t care.”

“Don’t fight with him, mummy. He’s hurting. Same as you.”

I hated that Clara’s voice had become my conscience. I hated that what she said was true. And I hated that no matter what I said or did, I couldn’t ignore her. I would never be able to ignore my daughter.

The image of the little boy came again, and I knew I owed it to Fox to tell him. He deserved to know. I couldn’t steal another family member from him—I wasn’t that cruel. He may have destroyed me, but I wouldn’t be responsible for ruining him further. He didn’t need my help with that.

Fox dragged a hand through his bronze hair, looking up the hill to where I’d scattered Clara’s remains.

“Fuck, this is all so twisted. I hate myself for everything I’ve done to you.” His jaw clenched, and moisture glistened in his eyes. “If you only knew how much I hate myself. How much I want to sacrifice my entire life just so you never have to feel such pain.”

His big body shuddered; his shoulders rolled and his destitution turned my spent rage into wistful longing. Clara was right. He was hurting. Badly.

He’d been alone—dealing with Clara’s death without anyone’s support. He’d done who knew what to find some sort of peace and I couldn’t be angry anymore. I couldn’t hate him for the sins he’d caused because ultimately, he wasn’t responsible.

Forgiveness.

It was like a drug, warming me, soothing me. Turning all my anger into grudging acceptance. I knew if he reached out to hug me, I would forgive him. If he could wrap his arms around me and give me a sanctuary to cry in, I would forgive him for everything.

A hug would grant me hope.

A hug would show me promise.

But asking him to hug me was like asking for the moon. It wasn’t possible, and he couldn’t be who I needed him to be. The vicious circle was complete. It was time to share the news I hadn’t told anyone and walk away. If he wanted to be part of the child’s life, I wouldn’t stop him. But I couldn’t share anymore of mine with Roan Fox. I couldn’t set myself up for more heartbreak.

Bracing my back, I said, “Fox, I’m—”

Fox launched forward, bringing the scent of smoke and metal. He smelled of salt too—of tears and sadness. My heart squeezed into a small ball at the thought of him grieving all alone.

His eyes flashed. “Stop calling me that, goddammit,” he growled. “How many times do I need to tell you to call me Roan? Clara did. She understood why I needed her to call me that.” He dragged hands through his hair looking weary and worn. “Fuck, Zel. Fox is gone. He’s dead. I killed him three nights ago when I tried to change my past. I never want to hear you say that name again.”

Anger bubbled over again. He’d ignored my heartfelt confession and jumped straight back to what he needed. The selfish bastard. “What you want? What about what I want?” I laughed harshly. “You left me when I needed you the most. You. Ran. Away. You can’t touch, you can’t love, you can’t even be there for me. Why should I remember to never call you Fox when I have no intention of ever seeing you again?”

He moved suddenly. His large hands on my shoulders detonated my skin with bolts of power and awareness just like when we first touched. It crackled, it burned—whizzing through my nervous system, keeping me locked beneath his grip.

I sucked in a breath, humming with so many different things. My shocked gaze met his haunted icy eyes. His skin was ashen, cheekbones standing in stark relief. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. But beneath the haunted pallor, he shone with the connection. He felt it, too. He burned the same as me. “Feel that? It’s fate. We’re meant to be together. Please, Zel. Don’t you know? Don’t you know how much I f*cking care for you? How much I miss you? I didn’t run; I went to find redemption. And I can touch. I’m touching you now.” He sucked in a breath, leaning in close, sending more jolts through my blood. “I’m here. For you. For her. Forever if you’ll have me. Just please—forgive me.”