Page 72 of Loving Bad
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Taylor
"You need to let me explain," I began to plead with him. I stood between him and his only means of escape. I had to explain before he left. He shook his head at me and I felt the fear of losing him spark inside of me and start to engulf me.
"I don't have to do anything for you," he said angrily as he glared at me.
He'd never used this tone with me before and I was momentarily stunned. He didn't have all the facts so he had every right to be angry, but the least he could do was let me explain. In just seconds he'd gone from caring to hating me and I was still trying to catch up to the mess I was in.
"I didn't read it," I tried to explain, but I could see him close himself off from me. He'd already made up his mind and there was no amount of explaining that was going to change it. I was wasting my time.
"Connor gave it to me, but I never read it," I insisted, my eyes pleading with his. He had to believe me.
"Why?" he asked, looking at me suspiciously.
"I told you he was overprotective. This is him taking the over protectiveness a step too far," I tried to reason with him.
"Yeah, I get it. One look at me and he knew I was no good," he said and my heart squeezed.
"You are good—"
"I trusted you," he admitted, letting his gaze fall to the floor as he cut me off. He couldn't even look at me. "I opened up to you and told you things I don’t tell a lot of people."
The tone of his voice changed. He sounded hoarse and emotional. The normal confident and strong Sin was gone and in his place was a vulnerable boy who'd spent most of his life unloved. It pulled directly at the strings to my heart and I stepped forward to comfort him, but he took a step back, putting himself out of my reach. He couldn't stand the sight of me and he didn't want me to touch him. It was a hard blow. I wrapped my arms around my waist to keep myself from reaching for him. His eyes shot to mine and the anger was back, and so was the hardened Sin with the protective shell.
"If you wanted to know so badly, all you had to do was ask," he added. "If you'd asked...I would have told you."
His voice broke slightly on the last sentence and I bit down on my lip as I felt the sting of tears. I was losing him—I could feel it.
"There are a lot of things I've done that I'm not proud of," he said as he ran a hand through his hair. "I did them for survival."
I swallowed hard, wanting to hold him and tell him I didn't care what he'd done. From the little he'd told me about his childhood, I'd understood that he hadn't been brought up the way I had been and I wasn't going to judge him on what he'd had to do to survive the childhood he'd been stuck in.
He hadn't judged me and I wouldn't judge him. The horror of my parents' murder had sent me straight into a white, padded room and that would have sent most guys running in the opposite direction, but Sin had stayed.
"After I found out about your past, I didn't want you to find out about some of the stuff from my past. I was scared about how you would handle it."
I fought the emotional torrent that wanted to break free from me as his eyes held mine. What could he have done that make him scared of how I'd handle it? My curiosity was piqued. Although he was still angry, his eyes held a little sadness that made me feel guilty just for having the folder in my drawer.
"But it doesn't matter anymore."
It was the tone and how he looked at me that made my heart crack because I knew what was coming. To him, I didn't matter anymore. There was no way to stop it—all I could do was stand there with what little self-respect I had. Somewhere deep down inside, I hoped that he just needed some time to cool off. I'd reacted the same when I'd discovered he'd uncovered my past and it had taken a few days for me to be able to talk to him again. He needed time.
"We're done," he stated in a defeated tone.
I could beg and plead, but it wouldn't change his mind. I stood still as he stepped past me and opened my bedroom door. My eyes watered and I felt the first sob escape me as I pressed my hand to my mouth when the front door slammed closed.
"What happened?" Matthew asked from the doorway of my bedroom moments later, looking confused.
I tried to take a breath, but another sob tore from me. Worry etched Matthew's features as he walked to me and pulled me into a hug. The emotion I'd bottled up began to break free and I closed my eyes and cried.
He held me as I released all my heartache in the tears that streamed down my face and wet his shirt.
"It will be okay," he soothed as he held me.
He was saying it to make me feel better because there was no way he could know that for sure. I wanted to hope that there was still a chance that it could be fixed, but I was scared to face up to the fact that it was unfixable.
