Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart, #3)(105)

Terrified.

Part of him wanted to yell at her for exposing herself. For revealing her hiding place. The other part of him screamed with pride. At her courage.

His father cracked a grin, and he started to move for her. “You think you’re gonna actually pull that trigger?”

Izzy’s mama whimpered where she was pressed to the wall beside her.

“I will,” Izzy said, “I will for all the things you’ve done to him.”

His father started to go for her, and she held the gun steadier, and he wavered before he completely froze when the sound of sirens started to scream their approach.

Izzy had called the cops. Izzy had stopped it.

Relief blasted through his spirit. It sent the adrenaline draining from him just as fast as the blood drained from his side.

Coldness crept over him, and his head spun with a rush of dizziness.

His father turned toward him, the same kind of hatred Mack watched him with radiating back. “You’re gonna pay for this, Mack. One day, you’re gonna pay.”

He didn’t care.

He didn’t care.

The only thing he cared about was she was safe.

His Little Bird was safe.

Mack slumped facedown on the floor.





*



The next night, Mack climbed their tree one last time. Excruciating pain tore through is body. He didn’t know if it was coming from his side or if it was the crushing of his soul.

He made it to where the dim light glowed at the window, and he peered inside, his heart ripping and tearing.

So full and so empty.

He tapped at the window, his throat bobbing the heavy affection when she smiled like she’d been expecting him and reached over and pushed up the window.

“Maxon. Your side. You should have come through the front door. God, I’ve been so worried about you,” she whispered in a rush.

Everything clutched, agony cinching down on every cell in his body.

He slipped through, and she stood from the chair, and her slight, delicate body rocked toward his.

Drawn.

“Izzy Baby,” he said. Sorrow filled his smile. Just looking at her hurt.

Her lips trembled, and he could still see the remnants of terror darkening those hazel eyes, the trauma that had been written on this girl.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, wishing he could take it away and knowing he would be forever responsible for the scar that would forever deface her spirit.

“You don’t have a thing to be sorry for.”

Bitter laughter pulled up his aching throat. “Don’t have a thing to be sorry for? You were almost killed, Izzy. You and your mama. Because of me.”

She blinked in refusal. “No. Because of your father.”

“Don’t you get it, Izzy? That man is me. He’s in my blood. You have any idea the things I’ve done?”

All his sins came blistering through his memory.

“You haven’t done anything but protect me. Protect my family.”

His lips pressed into a grim line. “They’re investigating. They’re gonna take me away. Like I deserve to be. And even if they don’t? You deserve so much more than I could ever offer you.”

Agony pinched her gorgeous face. “Don’t you dare say that. Don’t you ever say you don’t deserve me. We are meant for each other. We’ve always been.”

“No. We aren’t.”

Those little hands came out for his shirt, fingers curling in with the plea. “Yes, we are. I love you. I love you so much. Don’t do this to me.”

He felt himself crack right down the middle.

Pieces strewn far and wide.

Littered across the space.

“Maxon . . . my dragon . . . you saved us. You did. You have to know that.”

Unable to stop himself, he gripped her by the outside of her shoulders, just needing to feel something.

The connection that he could feel getting ready to snap.

Forever severed.

“Someday you’ll realize it. You’ll realize you are so much better off without me. I can’t give you the life you deserve.”

“I love you.” It was a deep, reverberating cry that echoed against her walls.

A plea whispered from her soul.

Mack gave into the selfishness that screamed through his veins. The greed that had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

Only one more second.

He needed one more second.

He gathered her close, felt the beat of her heart, breathed in her spirit.

Wild jasmine and the sun.

“I will always love you, Little Bird.” He pressed his mouth to her forehead and whispered, “Endless.”

He ripped himself away. He could feel more of those pieces breaking loose. Crumbling to the ground. Scattering.

He couldn’t breathe.

He forced himself to back toward the window, watching her as he did.

Tears covered her face, and she pressed her hands to her chest like she was trying to hold those pieces in. “Maxon . . . don’t do this. Please, don’t do this. I know you. I know you better than anyone. You are amazin’. Wonderful. Good. My dragon.”

Sorrow curled the corner of his mouth, and he knew he had to let that fantasy go.

This . . . this was his reality.

“Fly, Little Bird. Be free.”