Page 46 of Tempting Fate

“Talk to me, metukà shelì. I needa know what the fuck happened... and you needa let it out. It’ll eat you up if you try to pretend it was nothin’. Remember what Dr. Louise told you last time? That you didn’t fuckin’ deserve any of this and none of it’s your fault,” he murmurs to me. “The same applies this time… I can help you deal with it—just like I wanted to last time. All you have to do is tell me what really happened.”

Tears pool in my eyes as I absorb his words.

I know he’s right, but my fear has me prisoner.

Alex’s voice reverberates around my head—taunting me.

He’s in me.

Poisoning me.

Turning my love toxic.

Drawing my darkness to the fore.

I don’t want to infect Zeke with my filth.

As panic pounds through me in waves, and my fear that Zeke will see through me rips the breath from my lungs, I push myself into an upright position. Sitting up when I do, he tries to hug me. I slap my first love’s hands away, drawing my knees to my chest, and holding an arm out to fend him off when he attempts to come closer.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m fine… I just need you to give me some space.”

“Sweet thing, come on.”

“No.” I swipe at the tears welling in my eyes. Hissing when my fingernail catches the stitches in my eyebrow, I use the flare of pain to power me through my next words. “You want to talk, huh?”

“Yeah, Lil… I want to talk.”

Angst and regret floods me, still I dig my metaphorical heels in and proceed with my plan to get rid of him. “Cool. Then, let’s talk about why you couldn’t be bothered to tell me that Alex was being released.”

“Metukà shelì… that’s not important now,” Zeke protests. He holds his hands out, then attempts to placate me. “You have to understand, I’m fuckin’ sorry that it turned out to be a mistake, but I’d do it again… ’cause I’d do anythin’ to keep the happiness in your eyes from ever bein’ dimmed.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“No, sweet thing, I’m full of love for you.”

When his simple admission makes my heart flip-flop in my chest, I clumsily surge back to my feet and point at the door. “Please… just leave me alone.”

Zeke rolls off the bed after me. He regards me for a moment, indecision in his eyes, then nods to himself. I back up as he stalks over to me. The muscles in his legs ripple with each step, the tight fit of his boxer-briefs emphasise every ridge and cord in his strong legs. His six-pack flexes as he uses his bulk to trap me between his body and the wall. He gently cups the back of my neck and pulls my forehead to his. With his gaze locked on mine, Zeke allows me to see every emotion he’s experiencing.

Love.

Sorrow.

Hunger.

Patience.

“I don’t wanna leave you alone, but I’mma give you the space you’re askin’ for… for tonight only. Because you will be tellin’ me what happened today, whether you like it or not.” There is assurance in his touch, certainty in his movements, as he pulls me closer. Wilting, I rest my cheek against his shoulder, concentrating on the rapid beat in his throat as Zeke lays down the gauntlet. “Tonight, you wallow. Tomorrow, you tell me the fuckin’ truth… we can get past anythin’ as long as we’re honest with each other. You’ve gotta know that by now.”

In the face of his candid pledge, I want nothing more than to melt into his arms and confess my sins… but I can’t. I won’t run the risk of ruining our relationship with the truth.

When I stiffen in his embrace, Zeke gives me one last light squeeze, then kisses my forehead. He pulls his jeans on and shoves his feet into his biker boots. After scooping his cut from the hook on the back of the door, he turns to face me.

“I love you.” Averting my gaze to avoid the honesty in his expression, I keep my focus on the floor as he pulls the door open. “Nothin’ will change that, metukà shelì.”

The moment he closes the door behind himself, I break down. Climbing under the covers, I roll myself into a ball, despite the protests of my aching body, and I cry. I weep over the man I love—the man I let down today. I wail for the life we could’ve had if I’d made the right choice when I was seventeen. I sob over the lies I’ll need to tell from this day forth to keep from ruining the only good thing I have left. I’m not sure how long it takes, but eventually the sedative Doc gave me kicks in, and I’m pulled into a fitful sleep.

For the first time in a long while, my nightmare pays me a visit.

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