I lock the door and drop back into my chair, head spinning.
Jesus.
How did he just flip everything I thought I fucking understood about the world? What do I do next? How the hell do I fix the damage I just did with Becca? I cringe when I think about the way I reacted to this whole fucking situation. I deserve a nut punch.
But shit, why wouldn’t she have run? Get to fucking safety. She has to stay safe. I don’t think I’ll fucking survive it if she’s hurt. I can feel my pulse racing again. The fear I felt at that moment rises again, filling my body. I don’t fucking understand what the hell she was thinking. How could she fucking do that to me?
28
BECCA
Imanage to hold back the tears until I hit the door at the top of the stairs.
I’m so fucking stupid. I had hoped we were building something the last few weeks. That he truly saw me. I wanted to believe in him, in us, so badly. And then he looked at me like I was a complete stranger. I just wanted him to hug me. To know that everything was going to be okay. And he couldn’t do it.
I don’t try to stop the tears, letting them fall through my shower. Through pulling on my sweats and T-shirt. Through my erratic searches through theRoommate Wantedlistings. No way am I staying here anymore.
The envelope Colton gave me is sitting on the table, a whole new world of options under its flap. I can pay to fix the car. Or I can junk it and use the cash to get a place. I’m not stuck. If I’m honest with myself, I’ve never been stuck. I could have left at any time. I chose to stay, and I might as well own it. I put myself in this position.
I push my fingers through my wet hair and breathe out some of the tension. Going over everything that just happened is not going to make anything better, and I’m already sick of wallowing. No more tonight. I stare at the fridge, trying to remember what I have left in there for supper. But all I remember is pickles.
The knock on the door freezes me halfway to the fridge. There’s only one person who could be on the other side of that door.
I don’t want to do this.
I know it’s coming, but I’m not ready yet for it to be officially over. If we wait. If we avoid each other, then I can keep this little kernel of hope in me alive for just a little while longer. The second, harder knock propels me forward. I rest my forehead on the door.
“I’m exhausted, Kade. Can we skip this part?” I say softly, proud of how level my voice is.
“Open the fucking door, Becca.” The anger in his voice slams into my chest, into my simmering pool of hurt and anger.
It boils over.
I swing the door open with a glare, letting it bang against the wall before turning my back and heading into the small kitchen. Kade closes the door with a soft click that makes the back of my neck tingle. This is going to be bad. I turn, facing him head-on. If he wants a fucking fight, I’ll give him one.
He shoves off the door and turns to me, pushing his hands into his pockets. “What the fuck were you thinking, Becca?”
What was I thinking? Seriously? I’m too angry to fuck with him, to toy with him.
“I was thinking I need to protect the people I care about, Kade. I was thinking that I have the skills and training to keep you all safe.”
The muscle in his cheek jumps. “Me, Micah, Colt, we were all there. Why didn’t you let us handle it?”
“Handle it,” I repeat quietly. “You wanted me to letyouhandle it?” My voice rises. “How exactly did you expect that to work, Kade? When he lunged at me with the knife, should I have let him cut me? Stab me? Take me hostage, maybe? What exactly did you want me to do?”
He shoves his hand through his hair and growls. “You shouldn’t have fucking been there, Becca! You shouldn’t have been in danger in the first place. Why didn’t you get out of there? You could have run out the door. I saw the footage. You had a choice when he came in. You chose not to leave. Why?” His words are running together, tumbling over each other, coming faster and faster. His questions scrape along my skin.
“I…Seriously? Do you really not understand?” What kind of person does he think I am? How could he think those things? “Why would I leave Kade? How could I leave, knowing that people I love would still be in danger? I…I am not capable of walking away from someone who needs me. Someone I can help.”
His disbelief pierces me to my core, and I sit in the hurt as I watch him, rubbing his hair, eyes no longer cold. They’re wild, bouncing from my face to the room and back again. A thread of understanding appears, and I tug on it, wondering where it will lead.
“You’ve been expecting me to leave, haven’t you?” I ask him. His body stills, his eyes focusing on my feet. “You fix them up. Your mom. Those other women. Then they leave. One way or another, right?” I want his eyes on me. I’m not letting him hide from me anymore. If we’re going down in flames tonight, I want to make sure we lay it all out on the table. “Kade, look at me for this conversation. You owe me that much.” His eyes reluctantly rise to meet mine. I hurt, seeing the pain in his eyes. “They don’t need you anymore, and they leave, right?” I ask again.
He clears his throat. “Sometimes. They…they get healthy, and I send them away. Or sometimes my brothers, Ransom, will send them away. I can’t walk away if they need me.”
I nod slowly, the picture becoming clearer. “So now that I’m all ‘fixed,’ you’re ready to send me away? That’s why you froze me out?”
His emphatic “NO” is followed by a quieter, “I don’t know.” He pushes his hands through his hair again, looking at a spot between us on the floor. “You’re not like them. Not really. I got…attached before. But nothing like this. I can’t do this, Becca. What if you’d died today? I can’t lose you like that. It’s too much. You’ll be safer if we’re not together.” Safer? That makes no sense. Nothing that happened tonight had to do with him. But there are no fucking guarantees in life. I wish there were.