Erasing Faith(86)

I nodded, still not looking at him. “How long are we going to be here?”

“Until there’s no longer a threat.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I gathered that. I meant… Days? Weeks?”

“It takes as long as it takes.”

I bit my tongue to hold in a retort. “I have to get back to my life. People will be looking for me in New York.”

Shit. I hadn’t meant to tell him where I was living.

He didn’t respond and that feeling the air was about to combust was suddenly back, swirling stronger than ever in the space between us. When he spoke, his voice was choked with tension. “Who?”

My back went ramrod straight as I listened to his footsteps crossing the room back toward me.

“Who’s waiting for you, Red?” His tone was deceptively soft, but I could hear the strain beneath his words. “A boyfriend? A husband?”

I didn’t answer, but my hands clenched into fists by my sides. He had no right to know the answer to those questions — not anymore.

“Is it the man who helped you disappear? Because whoever he is, he has connections. Even I couldn’t find you, Red. And, believe me, I looked.”

My stomach clenched at that admission.

“Someone helped you vanish off the face of the f*cking earth, without a single trace. No mere name-change could’ve erased you so thoroughly.”

I bit my lip to keep from answering as Conor’s face flashed in my mind.

“Someone taught you to shoot.” His words slithered around me like a snake, moving in for the kill strike. I tried to keep ignoring him, but the closer he moved toward me, the harder it was to remain unaffected. “Someone helped you change into this… new person.”

I spun around so fast, I nearly knocked noses with him. He edged back until our faces were a few centimeters apart, and I glared into his eyes, suddenly furious again.

“You want to know who changed me?” If looks could’ve killed, he’d be down on the freshly scrubbed floors, bleeding out. “You. You changed me.”

His jaw clenched.

“You broke me, Wes—whatever-your-real-f*cking-name-is-Adams. You ripped my life to shreds and walked away.” I shoved his shoulders with both hands and screamed a little when he barely even rocked back. “You don’t get to know about my life after you wrecked it. And you certainly don’t get to judge me for how I chose to put myself back together after you shattered me.”

I shoved him again, fighting the tears that were suddenly threatening to pour, and continued to berate him.

“If you don’t like the girl you see in front of you, you have only yourself to blame. You feel like I’m a new person? Good. I don’t want to be that fool who believed your lies ever again.” Despite my efforts, I felt a tear slip out from beneath my lashes. When I shouted at him again, my voice cracked with emotion. “You don’t recognize the woman I’ve become? Perfect. Now you know what it feels like to look at someone you thought you understood, and realize you never knew them at all.”

“What do you want from me?” he growled, his dark eyes flashing with anger. The careful restraint he always used was stripped from his voice. “Do you want me to pinky f*cking promise that I’m not going to hurt you again? Because I can’t. Grow up. This is the real world, Red. I’m not accountable for your happiness — no one on this godforsaken planet is.”

“I don’t want anything from you!” I screamed, shoving him again. “You’re the devil! The worst thing that ever happened to me!”

My fists pounded against his arms, his shoulders, anywhere I could reach. I was crying full-out now — a sniffing, sniveling mess — and I couldn’t stop the tears streaming down my face any more than I could stop the words flowing from my mouth.

“I hate you,” I whispered brokenly, the heat of my anger gone and the words garbled by grief. “I hate you so much.”

Wes was a statue, watching me unravel and utterly unable to stop my meltdown. He didn’t touch me, but he didn’t move away either. He just stood there and took it — all the vicious words I doled out, every shove of my hands against his shoulders. And when my screams turned to sobs, when my fury faded to sorrow, he didn’t push me away, as he had every right to. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and crushed me against his chest so tight, I stopped feeling like I was about to fly apart into a million pieces.

He was literally holding me together.

“Shhh,” he breathed into my hair.

And, for a moment, I just closed my eyes and let him hold me until the rest of the world disappeared.





Chapter Forty-Eight: WESTON


A MONSTER



I held her until I felt her relax in my arms, all her strength sapped by her breakdown. For a while, she seemed to forget that it was me, the man she hated so much, holding her. She might not have noticed, but I’d never been more aware of anything in my life.

I closed my eyes and breathed in her scent. Everything else was different, but that was the same: sunlight and spring. I committed it to memory.

I’d dreamed about this moment — her body pressed against mine, the crown of her head tucked perfectly beneath my chin like we’d been designed to fit together. Whenever I was somewhere cold or dangerous or just f*cking lonely, I’d reach inside my head and find this fractured glimpse of Faith — her arms around me, her forehead against the hollow of my throat where my pulse throbbed a little too fast.