Page 102 of Apex of the Curve

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” she said, and I barked a laugh.

“I’m not the one who’s gonna be hurting,” I said. “Look, I’d be lying if I said this life didn’t come with its fair share of cuts, bumps, and bruises… but they heal. The kind of broken I’m faced with, you walking away from me, even now, even after so little time?”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to hurt like that, baby. I honestly wouldn’t be able to sleep at night wondering, not knowing how you’re doing, scared you’d be out here getting steamrolled by life because let’s face it. It’s run over you more than a couple of times lately.”

She nodded and gave a choked, bitter laugh.

“You’re not lying about that,” she said and closed her eyes sighing.

“I think it’s time you stopped thinking and worrying about everyone else,” I said and tried to keep my voice soothing, knowing how anathema to her that very statement was. A complete opposite to her entire being. “I think it’s time you took time to worry about yourself. To take care of you and find the things you love. Get back to some of that, move forward with something new… on your terms and nobody else’s.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” she whispered, crystalline tears falling from those emerald eyes of hers.

“I do,” I said with a half-smile. “Can teach you what you need to know on that front easy.”

“Yeah?” she asked softly, her gaze a little eager.

“Yup. It’s all about the subtle art of not giving a fuck.”

She laughed, an abrupt but good sound.

A silence stretched between us and I took a cleansing breath and asked her, “So, what do you want? What do you really want?”

“I want my divorce to be over,” she said. “I want Charles and all of his bullshit out of my life once and for all. For good.”

“Could kill him for you, if you’d like,” I said casually, lifting one shoulder in a shrug.

“Ha, ha,” she said and her voice was laden with sarcasm. Must have been the look I gave her, because it was like I’d stolen the very air she breathed from the room.

“You’re not joking,” she said quietly, and I kept my gaze steady.

“I’m only half joking,” I said, and she swallowed hard.

“That scares me,” she admitted honestly.

“Why should it?” I asked. “Club charter has a rule, no women and no children. No exceptions. You’re as safe as can be.”

“It’s not that,” she said a little helplessly, and I cocked my head.

“Then what?”

“For as awful as things are right now, and as awful as he’s been… Charles didn’t mean for my mother or my brother to die. He didn’t mean for me to discover his cheating the day after my brother’s funeral. He’s just angry, wants to talk to me, and he thinks by pouring the pressure on, he’ll get me to crack… none of those things should be execution worthy.”

I nodded slow. “Does make him a monumental asshole at least worth an ass whoopin’,” I said.

“Okay,” she conceded. “I’ll give you that, but I don’t want that either.”

“Why not?” I asked. “Easy enough.”

“Because that’s not the way I handle things!” she cried. “Everything Charles has done so far is on Charles, is a reflection of who Charles is. I don’t want or have to do bad things because that would just be a reflection of me and I don’t want to be that kind of ugly when I look into the mirror.”

I bowed my head and nodded carefully, unsure how to bridge the gap here because I was the type of ugly she was talking about here. My soul was stained, I wasn’t above getting dirty, and I didn’t know what that meant for her.

“Is it a dealbreaker that I am?” I asked.

“That you’re what?” she asked, and the confusion was clear in her green eyes.

“That I am that type of ugly. That I can look in the mirror just fine most days with the man I am.”

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