Page 164 of Renard's Deliverance

“I’ll leave,” he said in a quiet voice, backing up slowly so he didn’t upset her again. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“What?” she asked, gaping at him.

God. When he looked at what that asshole had done to her, he wanted to puke. He wanted to take her into his arms and keep her safe. He wanted to burn the whole fucking world down just to protect her from anyone who might seek to harm her.

But what if the one person she was scared of was him?

Fuck!

He’d thought that he was capable of taking care of her. Obviously, he’d been fooling himself. Here he was bulldozing her into trying to open up to him.

“I . . . fuck, baby. I’m so sorry. I’m going to leave. You don’t have to worry about me scaring you or upsetting you. Okay? I just need to contact Lilac and Tanner. They’ll come and take care of you. I’ll need to wait until they get here, though, because you can’t be alone . . . I can’t leave you alone. But they’ll be here soon and they will take care of you.” He turned away before he did something stupid like go to her and beg her to give him another chance.

Someone like him didn’t deserve a second chance.

He didn’t deserve to be happy.

He should have died that day . . . why hadn’t he died that day?

“Renard! Renard, please!”

He walked into the living room. Where the fuck was his phone?

“Renard.” Her voice cracked. Wait, she sounded too close. He whirled to find her right behind him.

She flinched again, stepping back.

Fuck. He was messing this up so badly. It was no wonder she couldn’t trust him.

“Opal, what are you doing?” he said as softly as he could manage. It wasn’t easy. “You shouldn’t be up and about. I didn’t even know you were behind me. I could have accidentally knocked you over.”

She was in no state to get out of bed.

“Then you would have just picked me back up,” she told him. “Or I hope that’s what you would have done.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked. A tear dripped down her face and alarm filled him. “Opal, are you in pain?”

“Why am I Opal?” she asked.

Huh?

What was she trying to ask? He didn’t understand.

“What do you mean?” Was she confused? Forgetful? Shit, he should call Jenna.

“Why’re you calling me Opal?” she asked. “Is it because I’m too much work? Because I wouldn’t open up with you? Is that why you’re walking away? I get it. I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. But I thought I was yours. At least, a little bit.”

Anger filled him. He remembered her saying that before.

“Fucking hate tea,” he told her.

Her good eye flared open, sadness filling her face.

“But you . . . you’re exactly my cup of coffee. When I’m around you, you pick me up. You make me feel like I’m buzzing. The world seems different. It’s not so gray. It’s not so dull. It’s not coming at me through a filter. I’m living it with you. Because you give me something to live for, to wake up for in the morning.”

“I do that for you?”

He reached for her, then drew back. One, he wasn’t sure where to touch her without hurting her. Two, he didn’t want her to flinch away from him again.

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