Page 11 of Coup De Grâce
“Yet, he had no problem with me fucking other men for information.”
His steps faltered as we rounded the corner. He quickly spun, shoving me up against the building. His eyes burned with hatred, but not for me. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on,” I huffed out a laugh. “What did you think he sent me to do when I was ‘kidnapped’ and sold into sex trafficking?”
I could tell from his tight jaw and the way his eyes burned that he really didn’t have a clue what I was talking about. It was almost sad that the man he had followed so long had been such a disappointment in the end.
“Did he explicitly tell you to sleep with other men?”
“Does it fucking matter?” I argued. “He knew what would happen.”
“You volunteered for that job,” he spat.
I shoved back against him, my anger rising by the second. “And no man who truly loves a woman would allow her to do something like that! I would have done anything for him. Anything!” Tears welled in my eyes as hurt replaced the anger. “All I ever wanted from him was his love and trust. And he couldn’t give that to me. In the end…he never really gave me either.”
Sighing, Jack tugged me into his arms, letting me break down against his chest. I gripped his shirt so hard that my fingers ached, but I didn’t let go. I couldn’t. Jack knew all too well about going to any lengths for Rafe, only to find out later that you sacrificed way more than you should have.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Libby.”
I sniffled, wishing I could go back in time and make different choices, but in the end, there was still one major problem. “I still fucking love him,” I sobbed. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”
“The same thing that’s wrong with all of us. We all wanted to follow him. We believed in him, and I’m not saying it’s right, but I’m not so sure it was wrong either.”
Instead of easing the pain inside, the tears only fell harder at his words. Sometimes it felt like the grief was overwhelming, making it impossible to breathe. And all I really wanted was to move on and forget this part of my life ever happened.
But Rafe wouldn’t let me.
“It’s so fucking suffocating,” I admitted. “He was everything to me, and he just…walked away.”
“He loved you,” Jack said gruffly, rubbing my back.
“He didn’t even tell me goodbye.”
He sighed heavily, squeezing me tightly. “Because he couldn’t. You were the one person he couldn’t walk away from, and if he had to tell you goodbye…how the fuck would he have willingly gone to that island?”
I huffed out a laugh, stepping back as I wiped my eyes. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? To know that he didn’t want to leave me, but he still sacrificed everything and went to his death still loving me?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I can’t say whether or not you should forgive him or even still love him. Knowing what he did…” Jack glanced away, and I could see the battle warring across his features. “I guess I’ve come to terms with why he did it. I’m not saying I forgive the shit he put me through, but we did take down The Syndicate. We achieved what we set out to do. Honestly, if it was anyone else, we probably would have given up long ago.”
“He ruined lives,” I pointed out. “Asher lost his wife.”
“She got out. She’s still alive.”
“That doesn’t change what Asher went through. It nearly destroyed him, and it was like Rafe didn’t care. All he wanted was for Asher to push through, to use the opportunity his wife’s death presented. I was fucking there!” I spat. “He pushed Asher to continue with the job, using her death as a fucking excuse to become even more ruthless. He just didn’t know when enough was enough!”
I was breathing hard, my chest heaving as I stared into my old friend’s eyes. Another breakdown was coming. I could feel it simmering under my skin since last night, but now, it was at a turning point. If I didn’t get blind drunk, it would consume me.
“He—” My breath hitched as the words lodged in my throat. Tears welled once again, but this time, it was accompanied by the all-consuming pain I knew all too well.
I squeezed my eyes closed, trying and failing to force those feelings down. It didn’t work, though. I couldn’t stop it as my body shattered from the pain, refusing to hold me up any longer.
My knees crumpled, but Jack was there, catching me before I could hit the ground. I heard his soft, gruff murmurs as he hoisted me into his arms. Pain wracked my body and sliced me to ribbons as I remembered the words Cash told me.
He was dead. Rafe—my husband, the man who seems invincible—was dead. He had chosen to go to the island. He had chosen to leave me behind.
He refused to stop even though he knew it would mean his death.
My husband was gone, and I was left all alone.
