“I know.” I grin softly.
“Tell me about her?” she requests, and kisses me again before leaning her head on my shoulder. There, under the moon, I tell her stories of my mother. Ones I have never spoken. Ryder doesn’t want to hear them, they hurt him. He won’t admit it, but he never forgave her for leaving him, for not saving us. I did. So it’s nice to share them with someone.
With my girl who laughs with me, and when I finally cry, holds me. Wrapping me in her arms and stroking my hair, she rains kisses down on my head. “I’m falling in love with you, darling,” I murmur, and she freezes.
“Don’t, love has a way of changing to hate,” she whispers fearfully, and I lift my head. It’s my turn to hold her.
“We started with hate, baby, I don’t think it’s going to go the other way for us. Love can hurt, I know that.” I look to the grave pointedly. “But it also gave me those stories, which I treasure to this day. Anyway, it’s not something you can stop, Rox.” I grin widely. “It’s happening, so get on board.” I wink, making her laugh.
“Idiot.”
“Ahh, it’s better than asshole, which is what you usually call me.”
“Oh, you’re still that too,” she whispers, as I kiss her again. “I’m scared,” she admits.
“I know, so are we. But you have never been one to let fear stop you, and neither have we.”
She nods, and we go back to sitting side by side, lost in our own thoughts, our bodies tangled together under the night sky. I should return home, the others will be worried, but I want to steal one more moment with just her and me. Because tonight, I have seen more of the real Roxy, of the person she tries to hide, the one her father tried to beat out of her, than I have since she came to me.
Us.
Every time I find another piece of this woman, I fall harder. The question is, will she love me back?
Chapter Thirty-Three
GARRETT
We all heard Kenzo and Roxy return. I peeked over the balcony to see him kiss her deeply at her door before telling her to get some sleep. He’d been grinning wide, happier than I’ve ever seen him. He didn’t even notice me staring as he went into his room.
Lovesick fool.
Rolling my eyes, I slam my door and lie in bed, my arm tucked under my head but, like always, I’m unable to sleep. When I do, it’s always to memories, those memories. Is it not bad enough I see the physical scars from it? I have to relive it every fucking night.
Closing my eyes, I force myself to sleep, I have no choice, but like I expected, the nightmare takes hold.
I can smell my own blood. It coats the air, as do my screams. I held strong at first, but as more and more of my skin was carved away from my body while she laughed, I couldn’t stop it. They flowed from me, my screams of agony.
She grins down at me madly, those blue eyes I once loved dark with greed and lust. Lust for my pain, my death. She thinks it will get her what she desires. I want to give in, to fall into that light warmth calling to me, but I fight it. I need to get free, to kill her before the others find her. They will torture her, they will make it hurt…and despite it all, part of me still loves her.
Even now, as her blade flashes in the light as it comes back down on my chest, slicing through more of my muscle, flaying it away, I care for her.
Struggling in the chains, I fight her while she giggles. “Oh, Garrett, always the fighter until the end. I love that about you, you know? Seeing the pain you caused, all that blood on your body as you fought them.” She groans, grinding on me and making me gag. “But I was wrong. You’re weak, fucking pathetic. Just a dumb rich guy, not like me at all.” The ring on her finger I gave her a few hours ago shines in the light as she holds up the knife coated with my blood.
It was supposed to be the happiest night of my life. The others left to give us space so I could propose, and now here we are. I’m dying.
I can feel it—too much blood loss.
Is that what she wants? Fucking anger stokes within me, one I feel during fights, the one that keeps me alive. It roars through my veins as I glare at her. I clamp my lips shut and refuse to let another noise escape, but she doesn’t like that. With a yell, she stabs and slashes. Pain like no other courses through my bound body…
I jolt awake with a start, something’s wrong. I feel it then, a chain on my arm. With a roar, I grab it and twist, throwing the person next to me before I pin them there. Fury and fear flow through me, blinding me. I wrap my hands blindly around their throat until a small voice reaches me in my haze.
“Garrett?”
Blinking, I stare down at Roxy. “Rox?” I murmur in confusion. I swallow and notice my hand on her throat and sit back, moving away from her quickly. The dream still lingers, making me feel raw and angry.
She sits up, seeming unafraid, even though I almost just killed her again. My body is heaving, my chest hurting from the dream. She can’t be here, not right now, but she doesn’t seem to fucking care, as usual. “Are you okay? I heard you yelling and came to check on you…”
“I’m fine, get out,” I snap, holding back the rage inside me that wants to break free and punish her, even though it’s not her fault.
She frowns. “Garrett, are you—”
“Get. Out,” I snarl.
She freezes, watching me. “Is this about why you hate women…the woman who did that to your chest?”
It’s my turn to freeze then. “How?”
“It’s not hard to figure out. I don’t know who she was or what happened, but I’m guessing it was a woman who did that to you.” She smiles sadly. “I’m sorry, Garrett, no wonder you hate women.”
“You know nothing, get out.” I look away in shame.
“Then tell me,” she pleads, reaching for me, but she stops short of touching me. “I’ll understand, I could help. What happened?” she implores. I grind my teeth, and she sighs, letting her hand drop to the bed between us. “I just want to help, Garrett, I swear I won’t hurt you. I just want…well, you. However I can get you, even as a friend.”
“Don’t you see I’m ruined?” I scream. I know the others heard me, but they don’t try to stop me or save her. Fools. She sighs, looking annoyed.
“Where? Where are you ruined?” she snaps, obviously sick of being kind. “Your chest? It’s hot, get the fuck over it, you have a few scars.” She snorts.
“A few?” I roar, and get into her face, pointing at the melted tissue across my torso. “It’s a fucking horrendous mess that makes me feel sick to even look at. How could you ever expect me to think you find this attractive?”
“You don’t get to tell me who I find attractive,” she counters with a growl, angry herself. “I love your scars the way I love my own. They actually made me feel close to you before anyone else. Someone with those scars knows pain, like me. So yes, I like them, yes, I want you so fucking badly it’s stupid, so badly I touch myself to the thought of you, even when you’re mean and hateful. You don’t get to tell me what I want because you’re fucking scared!” she yells, and then breathes heavily as we stare at each other.
“Of course I’m scared, I’m fucking terrified,” I shout, slamming my hand into my chest. “She ruined me, my body, my mind, and fuck, Rox, how can you want that? How could you want me to touch you when I’m such an asshole? When I might kill you?”
“What’s a little danger?” She grins. “I’ve been with Diesel, dude, you aren’t worse than him.”
I go quiet then, unsure what to say.
“They didn’t tell you what happened?” I ask lowly.
“No, it’s your story to tell,” she replies quietly, not angry anymore. Fuck, we’re messing this truce thing up. “Are you okay?”
Scrubbing my face, I sit, pressing my back to the wall, and she sits with me. “Yes, no,” I mutter, unable to look at her. “I’ve had nightmares ever since, but they’ve been worse recently.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, and I nod. We sit in silence and she sighs. “I’ll leave, I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t leave,” I snap straightaway, and I feel her whirling around to gape at me.
But I don’t know what to say or do. I’m so fucking rusty at this shit, and I don’t know what will trigger me. How can I reach for her when I know I might hurt her? Isn’t me wanting her selfish? But I do. I want her.
I’ve wanted to kiss the shit out of her every time we argue, wanted to throw her to the bed and fuck her. But I can’t.
She slides closer, but I still can’t bear to look at her. She laughs quietly, and then the next thing I know she throws her leg over my lap and she’s before me, hovering above my hips. “This okay?” she inquires.