Exodus (The Ravenhood #2)(109)

Silence.

“School saved me in a way. In the summers, I fled to France. I explored every part of that country. It was a dream. I fell in love. It was everything I hoped it would be.” I swallow. “I saw a few familiar tattoos while I was there. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Silence. Not a single tell.

“I even took a trip to Saint-Jean-de-Luz. Your finish line is beautiful, Tobias. A dream.” His expression remains stoic. “I was hoping so much that you were watching. Hoping that you were proud of me,” I sniff as years of sadness and longing creep up on me. It’s only been a few weeks and I’m unraveling. I was nowhere near prepared for this.

“See, in my new life, I couldn’t make a move without you in mind, hoping every day you saw what happened mattered to me, changed me.”

I study his face carefully, and he gives away nothing.

“I threw myself into school, into my plans. By the time I graduated with my masters, I’d already started my company. I did it mostly for me, but the whole time I had you in the back of my mind. Hoping that you saw what I was doing was honoring Dominic.” I stifle a sob and collect myself enough to speak. “Even though you all refused to let me in, I wanted to play my part.” Throat burning, I get lost in the years I spent away. “Then Collin came along, and he was so…gentle, so understanding, sexy, so…safe to love, and I let him fall for me knowing…”

Tobias drives on, his expression impenetrable as if he’s not even listening, but I know he hears every word.

“I wasn’t the lonely girl anymore. I had a life, a business, friends, and a fiancé who adored me. I did everything I was supposed to do. I took all those steps to ensure I had a full life, a life I forced myself into because I had no choice.”

He pulls onto the road leading to the house, and I will myself to finish.

“So day by day, I lived this life hoping it would be enough, praying that I could forget this place, forget you, hate you, but at night…when I dream,” an angry sob bursts out of me as the full weight of my fate overcomes me with grief. “The dreams won’t let me forget. I’ve tried everything, and I can’t move on. I can’t. So that’s why I came home, and you, God, I thought if I could just face this, it would make me stronger, braver, but all it’s made me is a bigger fool.” I shake my head. “I’m not supposed to admit this to you because of how pathetic it makes me, but I’ve been riddled with grief and guilt since I left, and I’m done lying to myself.” I run my sleeve along my nose and gaze over at him to see him looking straight at me. “Because the life I truly want doesn’t have a thing to do with perfection. It’s the farthest thing from safe, and the man I want is anything but gentle.”

And with that, I pass out.



I rouse to the feel of his hands. A faint caress on my breasts as he slowly unbuttons my shirt.

“Tu penses que tu peux juste revenir après tout ce temps et dire de telles choses…” You think you can just come back after all this time and say these things…

I stifle my moan as the silk is drawn away, leaving me in my lace bra. My nipples pebble under his breath as his hands faintly roam, the lightest brush of his fingers sending tsunami pulses up my spine. I fight the alcohol fog I’m drifting in and out of to bring myself back to him.

“Je baise mon poing tous les jours en pensant à toi.” I fuck my fist to you every day. He unbuttons my slacks and slowly pulls them down. “Et je te déteste pendant tout.” And I hate you the whole time.

Briefly, he buries his head in my neck, his warm, nicotine-laced breath stirring every memory of intimacy we shared. My limbs tremble as I rouse from my whiskey coma and fight myself to keep from clutching him to me. But I opt to play comatose, my obliterated hopes sparking with every word he speaks.

“Tu dis mon nom quand tu jouis?” Do you call out to me when you come?

Yes.

“Tu ne peux pas être ici. Je ne te laisserai pas voler mon ame une nouvelle fois.” You can’t be here. I won’t let you steal my soul again.

I love you. I love you.

He runs his thumbnail beneath my lower lip. “Tellement belle.” So goddamn beautiful.

Yours.

“Belle et destructrice.” Beautiful and destructive.

Pot and kettle.

I hang onto every word like a lifeline, while the strength of the whiskey latches onto me, threatening to pull me back under.

“J’allais bien.” I was doing fine.

Liar.

He lifts me, unfastening my bra, and pulls it away.

“Putain. Putain.” Fuck. Fuck. “Tu es en train de partir. ?a n’arrivera plus.” You’re leaving. This isn’t happening again.

Thick fingers trail up the sides of my breast as a low moan escapes me. His fingers still when I open my eyes. His are brimming with anger, lust, and resentment. I gaze back at my reflection in his flames.

“T’aimer m’a rendu malade et je ne veux plus jamais guérir.” Loving you made me sick, and I don’t ever want to get well.

I let sleep take me.





I wake to the sound of howling wind outside my window. I lift from unrestful sleep to see two Advil on my nightstand along with a bottled water. I down it all, the split in my head enough to have me contemplating spending the day in bed. Pulling on my robe, I opt for fresh air, moving onto my balcony through the French doors. I take in the early morning, the blanketing clouds gathering in the horizon and drifting closer. The chill in the air has me shivering where I stand when awareness pricks, and I glance over the railing and spot Tobias on one of the loungers next to the covered pool. He’s still in last night’s suit and a black wool trench coat. Reclined back, a lit cigarette pinched between his fingers, with his eyes closed.