Nix. (Den of Mercenaries Book 3)

“I can fix this.”


That was probably true.

She had no doubt that if she nodded and agreed to let him fix it, make amends, or whatever it was he intended, she would forgive him. She would try and force herself to forget the knowledge she knew, but she couldn’t.

Because she didn’t want him to fix her, especially when he was a factor behind what happened to her.

“I’m leaving,” she repeated, and it didn’t matter that her voice wasn’t as strong as she wanted it to be, her words were loud enough for him to hear.

And they were enough to make him flinch.

“I didn’t know!” he said, composure cracking completely. “You can’t punish me for that.”

“I’m not punishing you, Kit. It’s not about you.”

Though it was.

It really was.

Yes, she was angry with Uilleam for the role he played—and words couldn’t describe what she was feeling toward her mother and sister.

Yet, Kit topped them all.

His betrayal had hurt the most.

But she couldn’t tell him that, not when it felt like her throat was closing up and she couldn’t catch an adequate breath.

Luna just needed to get out of there.

His wild gaze dropped to her hands as he noticed her movement, the way her fingers were toying with the ring that marked her as his.

“Don’t,” he said almost savagely. “Don’t you dare take that fucking ring off.”

God, just hearing him speak those words hurt.

Hurt, like he had struck her because not once since he’d smiled and placed it on her had she ever thought that she would want it gone—that the sight of it would ever fill her with anything but joy.

Right now, it felt like a shackle.

“I love you, Kit,” she said, voice cracking at the end as she backed out of the room. “But I don’t think I ever want to see you again.”

Anguish like she had never seen before darkened his eyes, but it was the heaving breath that belied the real pain he was in.

“Luna, don’t. Please. Please.”

“You promised you wouldn’t follow—keep this one.”

The second she was clear of the door, she didn’t wait to see how he would respond to that, nor did she really look at him as tears burned her eyes.

She couldn’t bear to see it.

Almost to the bottom of the stairs, she jerked when she heard the sound of glass shattering against the wall, quickly followed by something else breaking.

With each possession he destroyed, the lump in her throat grew, the tears she’d been holding back finally spilling over.

The sounds of rage and destruction filtered outside as she threw the door open and rushed to her bike, not caring that she was leaving everything behind—there was only one thing she would have wanted anyway.

She didn’t know where she was going, only that she knew she needed to get away from him because she was seconds from going back to him.

But Luna was tired of being weak.

For once, she had to stand on her own.





Chapter Twenty-Two





Present Day …



“Breathe.”

Luna was clenching her hands so tightly her nails had left indentations in her aching palms. So engrossed in what she was saying, she hadn’t felt the pain until Kit’s voice filtered in and brought her back to the present.

She never talked about the day she left him to anyone—she didn’t like to think about it. Because just as it had now, it only pained her in a way that it felt like her heart was breaking all over again.

As she looked at him sitting across from her, she could remember his visceral reaction at the knowledge that she was leaving him.

His anger and the ensuing rage he’d taken out on his possessions played in her ears as though it was happening all over again.

Luna wanted to feel that anger, that all consuming rage that had lit her up inside, but she only felt tired.

Drained.

She was just ready for this to be over.

Dr. Marie was looking between them, and despite her composure, she seemed at a loss for what to say.

“A moment, please,” Kit said to her, without taking his eyes from Luna.

It didn’t matter that this wasn’t his office, that he had no right to command Dr. Marie to do anything, but in that tone of his, Luna would be surprised if anyone hadn’t heeded his command.

A part of her was eager for Donna to leave, if only so they were alone. When had she started to want that? She had been running, evading him for so long now that it all felt like a blur of unhappiness.

Not even three weeks ago, she had wanted to avoid him at all costs, to prevent herself from falling back under his spell. It seemed only fitting that it was the Den—Uilleam and everything that came with him—that brought them back together again.

She didn’t know what she had come to expect by the end of this session. No part of her since the moment they stepped into this room believed that their problems would magically resolve themselves should they make it to the end of their hour.