I took it. And fuck she had one hell of a punch as it plowed into my cheek. Tears streamed down her face, but the blazing fury in her eyes didn’t match it as she came at me with everything she had.
I staggered back as she shoved me in the chest with both hands, using her foot on the bottom of the couch for leverage. “You left me.” She swung again and I ducked while I backed away. But her fists kept going, hitting my abdomen, my chest, my shoulders, anywhere she could. “You left me,” her voice raised, “You gave me hope and then ripped it away. That was worse than dying.”
I grabbed her by the shoulders and she kicked out and tried to wiggle free, her hatred raging through every part of her body. But it wasn’t just for me. It was for who had done this to her. It was hatred for who she was. And there was no doubt she hated me too right now.
“Let me go, you bastard. I want out of here. I want to go home.”
“No, you don’t. You ran away. You can’t stand being home.”
“It’s better than being here with you.”
I laughed. “Don’t lie to me, London.”
Her eyes glared, chest heaving. “Fuck you. You don’t know what I want.”
I raised my brows with amusement. “I certainly know better than you do.”
She became a wild cat struggling against me, and I had to take her legs out from beneath her with one swipe. With my arm locked around her waist, I lowered her to the floor with me on top of her.
“What are you going to do, rape me?” Her laugh was cruel and hysterical sounding. “Because it’s nothing new. Nothing can hurt me anymore.”
Not physical pain anyway. She was past that stage, but she had to learn to deal with her emotional pain. I had her wrists locked in my hands on either side of her head as I straddled her.
“You have that very wrong, braveheart.”
She spit in my face and the warm liquid dripped down my cheek. “I hate you.”
I smirked. “Yeah, I suspect you do right about now, but not as much as you hate yourself.”
That pissed her off and her struggles started again, but I had all the leverage and there was nothing she could do to dislodge me. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”
I softened my grip and sighed. “No. You hate what was done to you.”
Her eyes rimmed red with tears and rage. “I hate you more.”
I gave in to her because she needed it. “Okay, you hate me more.”
She pursed her lips together and it was her thinking face, the way her eyes shifted side to side and narrowed. “Why are you doing this? Just let me go home.”
“So you can fade away into your nightmares? That option is no longer available to you.” I leaned closer so my lips were close to hers and her warm breath brushed across my face. “And I hate Raven. I want London. I want the brave girl who wouldn’t back down from a bastard like me. The one that is fighting me right now.”
“Why were you there?” Her voice quivered. “Why did you come to Mexico if you were only going to leave me?”
“You know why. For you.”
The tension seeped out of her body as she whispered, “But you left me.”
I let go of her wrists and climbed off her to sit leaning against the wall, bending my knees to rest my arms on them. “Yeah. It went bad.”
“You left me. You left me, Kai. You left me there.” Her body tensed. “I didn’t think you were a coward.”
Normally, I’d kill someone for saying something like that to me, but instead I sighed. “Do you think I’m a coward, London?”
She sat up, her hair a mess from our struggle, but the fight had done her good. I pushed her, knew she trusted me enough that if I did threaten her, she’d push back, and I’d been right.
“No.” She raised her chin. “I think you’re calculating, cold, arrogant and believe no one can hurt you.”
I stilled. “You have most of that right except the last. I do have someone who can hurt me. You.”
Her breath hitched and lips parted.
“Baby, I didn’t leave you. Not by choice. I took a bullet, and the guy I came with got me out.” Ernie saved my fuckin’ life. “By the time I recovered, the compound was burned to the ground and you were gone.”
“You didn’t run.” It was said in a whisper more to herself than to me.
I shook my head when she looked at me, tears still leaking from her eyes. “No, baby.”
Suddenly, a piercing blare wrenched into the air and I leapt to my feet, racing into the kitchen. “Shit.” I pulled the smoking frying pan off the stove and dumped it in the sink. London was right behind me. She grabbed a dish towel, stood on her tiptoes, and waved it in the air under the smoke alarm.
The alarm stopped.
I walked toward her and it was fuckin’ nice because London kept her eyes locked on me. No flinching, no tension, and she even raised her chin a bit. And that got me hard.
Because nothing did it for me more than London. The girl who had enough compassion for the both of us. The girl who was brave in her own quiet way.
“The belt. You did that on purpose,” she said.
I shrugged and kept coming until I was inches away and she had to crank her neck in order to keep eye contact.