Page 22 of Moving Forward

“Ex.” Cain blinks several times and his gaze locks with mine. “Me.”

I pale. Ethan never had a good thing to say about the boyfriend Erin had before Conner. He’d made him out to be the black hole of boyfriends. Quiet and destructive—the end of anything that gets too close.

Cain steps forward, then thinks better of it and balls his fists. “I never . . . I didn’t lay a hand on her. I would never do that. She was visiting me—she was the only person other than Grams who cared. But I snapped and she was scared. I don’t know why she called Ethan instead of Conner, but she did. He threw the first punch and I . . . I started in on him and I didn’t stop. Somewhere along the line I guess I blacked out, and the next thing I know I’m in jail and Ethan’s in the hospital.”

I remember sitting on my bed back home and reviewing what I’d already packed with my mom. She was all about her checklists, and over the years I’d acquired the same obsession. We’d gone over it twice, adding and subtracting items as we went along. Mom was still trying to talk me into buying another tube of sunscreen when Ethan called. His voice had sounded off. Controlled, yet strained. “I have to cancel on us, babe. The jackass has struck again and it looks like we need some family time,” was all he told me. I hung up, cursing whoever Erin’s boyfriend was. He was always making Erin cry or sending Ethan into a tailspin.

And now he’s standing right in front of me.

“How hurt was he?”

Cain shakes his head, teeth gritted. He remains silent for so long I don’t expect him to answer me, but then, steeling himself, he does. “Bad. A concussion, broken ribs, the left side of his face was mashed up pretty good.” He grinds his teeth. “And all I got was a damn broken nose.” He chuckles tonelessly. “In that moment, I couldn’t think. My life just felt so far out of control . . . so hopeless. I just wanted it all to stop. I wanted a way out. I needed a way out. When he stopped fighting back, it pissed me off and fueled me further. I didn’t want to hurt Ethan, but I didn’t want to stop either. I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted him to keep going until he killed me. I wanted to die, Max.”

CHAPTER TEN

CAIN

I came to her intending to scare her off. I figured if she ran screaming from me, then I’d be able to accept my losses. I’d walk away from her and never look back; it would be easier that way. I knew I would ruin her the way I ruined everything else around me. Being friends with her—being near her—I’ll pull her into my mayhem. I will make her life a disaster.

Telling her how I sent her boyfriend to the hospital was easy. It reminds us both of who I am, why she needs to get as far away from me as possible, and why I need to steer clear of her. Telling her what led up to that—why I was so far gone—isn’t something I can do. That wasteland is for only me to know.

So many fucking emotions flicker across her face. Resentment. Anger. Confusion. Hatred. Fear. Then calm. She goes calm. Her eyes soften and the next thing I know, she’s pulling on my arm and her hand is cupping my forearm over the bandage. The tips of her fingers flutter across my skin, soothing any and all pain, as well as the urge to submit to it.

Why isn’t she walking away? She’s supposed to—I sure as hell don’t have the will to do it. “What are you doing?” I ask tightly.

Her eyebrows pull together. Completely ignoring my question, she continues, “Why would you want to die?”

I wish I could break her gaze, but it’s holding mine too strongly, gluing us together. “Because living was too hard.”

Her mouth opens slightly, then she just nods. How does she have nothing to say? Why is she okay with being around someone who chooses to just barely live?

A harsh breath escapes me as I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, marveling at how she can let me get this close to her when we both know it’s a bad idea. It shouldn’t matter what I’ve told her or if she understands me. She shouldn’t be so kind. She shouldn’t forgive me. Not after what I did to Ethan.

“I loved Ethan,” she states simply.

“I know,” I answer.

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