Walk Through Fire (Chaos, #4)(53)

“Man’s gotta get off and works for me I do that with a guaranteed good lay. Seems healthy to me, and when I’m buried deep, definitely feels healthy.”

I didn’t hide my wince and he didn’t show he cared even minutely that he’d caused it.

In fact, he didn’t show that he cared much any time I made it clear he’d wounded me.

No, he didn’t care at all.

He was playing with me to cause hurt to get back at me for what I’d done.

But he’d already done that, in spades, and the more I took, the more I allowed him to dish out, the more I made it so I deserved it.

In other words, if only for the sake of self-preservation, if not self-respect, this had to end. I knew it even before it began. I never should have gone to look for him in the first place.

I should have let it lie.

Now it was in my power to make it be over and I was going to do that.

He was not going to get it all.

Oh no.

But I would give him enough to get him gone so I could try to find it in me to stitch up the new lacerations I’d given my own damned self and get on with my life without him in it.

“I saw you at Chipotle,” I announced.

That got me something. I watched his body visibly tighten.

“I heard you on the phone. I heard what you said.” My voice dropped. “I know you have girls.”

His stare intensified but he didn’t say a word.

I did.

“You looked...” I threw a hand his way, “good. Healthy.” I shook my head, knowing my lips were curving in a sad smile but I didn’t try to stop it. “And as ever, handsome. You were wearing your Chaos cut, so I knew you still had your brothers. I saw you, heard you, and I knew you had it all. So I knew it was time to say I was sorry. To find you and say I was sorry for ending things the way I did. I know I hurt you and I thought, you having everything you need, all you ever wanted, your brothers, a family, I should find you and give you that closure. I should give you the words I should have given you years ago and didn’t. So I went looking for you.” I drew in breath and finished, “And I found you but it didn’t go as planned.”

“You don’t know shit,” he stated the minute I quit talking.

“I—” I started, then stopped, letting out a sharp cry of surprise and jumping away from the island when he all of a sudden swung an arm out and let his coffee mug fly, the mug shattering against the cupboards across the room, the coffee spattering cabinets, countertop, and floor.

“You don’t know shit,” he snarled, and my eyes flew back to him.

“You...?you...” I licked my lips nervously, taking another step back to retreat from the wrath pouring from him and pounding into me but stopping when his eyes narrowed in warning at my movements, “don’t have girls?”

“Cleo and Zadie.”

Oh God.

Cleo and Zadie.

Cute names.

Probably cute girls. I could picture them in my head, female versions of him.

Beautiful.

“Lights of my life,” he bit out.

“I...?that’s good, High,” I told him quickly. “I’m happy for you.”

“Knocked up their ma. Didn’t love her,” he shared, and with each word he said, I sustained new wounds. “Fuck, didn’t even really like her at the time. But she got pregnant and didn’t wanna take care of it, so she gave me Cleo. I gave her a ring. We both didn’t want Cleo to grow up with no brothers or sisters, so we gave her Zadie. Then we gave them both a crap home with two parents that didn’t give much of a shit about each other until we decided we were doin’ more harm than good and we ended it.”

Outside of the fact that he had two daughters he loved, none of the rest of that sounded good.

I didn’t want that for him. I’d wanted so much more for him. So, so much more.

I’d walked through fire to give it to him.

And I felt a new gash opening, knowing he’d never had it.

“I’m sorry, High,” I whispered.

“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, Millie,” he clipped.

“Okay,” I said immediately.

“Lived thirteen years with that woman and our babies knowin’ each day...” He shook his head. “Fuck, each f*ckin’ second what I wanted outta my life, what I wanted for my babies, what I thought I’d have with you, what I’d have to give to our kids, doin’ that with you, and knowin’ you tore that away. And you saw me and thought I wanted closure? You thought I wanted your ass back in my life so you could say you were sorry for takin’ away the only thing that gave me joy? To tell me you were f*ckin’ sorry for takin’ away the only shot I had at givin’ that joy to the babies I made?” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “What the f*ck’s the matter with you?”

“I told you I f*cked up,” I reminded him carefully.

“Yeah,” he growled. “You f*ckin’ did.”

“Now you know how,” I went on.

“Now I know how,” he ground out.

We stared at each other, me anxiously, him angrily.

When I could take no more, I assured him, “When you walk out of my house, I promise, High, swear, you’ll never see me again.”

“You lied to me,” he declared.