“My fists?” I try not to let the look on Rogan’s face affect me. He looks like I physically slapped him. “God, Katie, I would never, ever hurt you. Ever!” He raises his big hands up in front of him. “These hands will never touch you in anger. I’d rather die than see fear or pain on your face. How could you think otherwise?”
It burns in my chest like acid, that he could still, after all this, make me feel anything but disgust for him. And yet he does. He looks heartbroken that I would even suggest such a thing. And seeing him this way hurts me. Even though I hate him right this minute, and even though what he’s done is unforgiveable, I still don’t want to see him hurt.
“I’m not saying you would ever hit me. I’m just saying that I can’t watch things like that. I can’t cheer you on while you beat the crap out of another human being for money or fame or beautiful women. Or for whatever other reasons you do it.”
“I told you why I fight, Katie.”
“I know, but . . .”
I trail off, hoping he’ll just take that as enough explanation and go. Just go.
But he doesn’t.
“That’s not it, though. Or at least that’s not all. I saw you in the hallway. You turned so pale. I saw it. Something else happened.”
My stomach turns in on itself, like it’s going to eat a hole all the way through my spine, leaving me hollow in the middle. As hollow as I feel.
“Everything happened. Everything happened and everything fell apart.” It kills me that my voice is so deplorably small. Once again, my anger has abandoned me. As quick as that, as quick as his question. The agony of betrayal is the only emotion available to me now. Even when I’d rather hold on to my fury, I can’t find it beneath all the hurt. “I watched you pose with two women, like some sick love affair. I watched you smile with the man who had my case dismissed as an accident. And then I watched you have your picture taken with the person who set my car on fire.” Rogan’s brows knit together for a few seconds before he pales beneath his tan. I see how my words affect him, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. I can’t give him an inch or I’ll crumble. “And then, as if that weren’t enough, Victoria played her hand and exposed my scars for all the world to see. Scars that she said you told her about.”
I hate that my voice trembles. I hate that my chin quivers. I hate that he can see how weak I am, how weak and pathetic. But this will all be over soon and I’ll be on my way back to Enchantment. There, I can hide. There, I can lick my wounds in private. There, I can disappear until I find a new way forward. Until I can get away and start a new life.
Again.
Rogan shakes his head as though to clear it, like he’s overwhelmed. I guess he didn’t think he’d get caught so red-handed. Or maybe he just thought he’d never get caught at all.
When he finally collects himself, he drops to one knee in front of me, his eyes trained steadily on mine. “Katie, listen to me. I don’t know what she said or why she’d tell you that, but as God is my witness, I never told Victoria your secret. I’ve never told anyone. I would never do that to you. I thought you trusted me.”
Again, he looks wounded. And again, it kills me to see his hurt.
I remind myself that it’s probably not even real, though. It’s probably as fabricated as everything else has been between us. Facts don’t lie. And I’m drowning in facts right now.
I can’t give in. I can’t trust him. That’s why I’m in this position to start with.
“I did trust you, Rogan. And look where it got me.”
“I don’t . . . I didn’t . . . Katie, I swear I—”
“You’re the only one who knew except Mona. And even if she were going to betray me after two years, she certainly wouldn’t tell Victoria of all people.”
Rogan bows his head in defeat. I won. Only I don’t feel like the victor.
After several seconds of quiet, his head snaps up and his wide eyes lock onto mine. “Ronnie. Ronnie knew. From the night he attacked you. And I’ve seen him talking to Victoria on more than one occasion.”