Page 184 of Mayhem and Minnie

I stare at her, anger roaring inside of me and threatening to spill over.

I want to rage at her and ask her why she didn’t wait for me like I waited for her—even without knowing she would come.

But there’s also that part of me that wants nothing more than to console her.

A battle ensues inside of me and I wonder which side will win. My egotistical side that cannot accept that she’d give her heart to another man, or my other, dormant side, that wants her regardless of it?

I’ve never given much thought to women before or imagined how the one for me would be like—I never even thought there would be someone to match my idiosyncrasies as well as Minnie does. But if there’s one thing I cannot fathom is being secondary in someone’s affections.

I want it all or nothing.

I’m ready to tell her that, but as the tears keep spilling down her face, I find that the words will not come out.

A chasm opens in my heart at seeing her hurt, and I realize I’d do anything to comfort her. Even lie.

I tentatively touch her and bring her closer to me. Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her to my chest in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper again. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

It seems like forever before her tears finally subside. But now her eyes are red and swollen, and I feel even more like a prick for doing that to her.

“We won’t talk about it anymore,” I declare, though it’s another lie. Of course we’ll be talking about it again, but when she’s not as distraught and when I’ve had some time to gather my own thoughts.

We spend moments in silence, and I just hold her.

Guilt rams into my gut at the way I behaved, yet the jealousy is still there, lurking, ready to poke its ugly head and destroy this moment again.

I fight against myself, struggling to push those feelings away.

Minnie’s right. She’s here now. In my arms. That Lucien dude is dead and buried. I should focus on the present, not on the past…

I tighten my arms around her.

If Lucien had still been alive, he’d officially be dead again.

Flashes appear in my mind as I think of all the ways I’d kill him—torture him for daring to look at my Minnie, never mind make her fall in love with him.

What does he have that I don’t?

My eyes widen as another realization dawns on me.

She stated in no uncertain terms that she loved Lucien. But she’s never said the words to me. She’s never indicated that she had any deeper feelings for me other than affection.

I scowl.

“Please tell me you’re not mad at me, Marlowe,” Minnie whispers. “I don’t like it when you’re upset with me.”

“I’m not,” I lie. “I’m not mad at you, Minnie.”

She leans back and gives me a sad smile.

I school my features so she doesn’t see how troubled I am by her confession. Instead, I choose to change the topic.

“Why are the sentinels after you?”

Her brows go up at my question.

“Because I did something bad,” she replies. “I’m a wanted criminal.” She lets out a dry laugh.

---