Page 21 of Edge
Edge grabbed the roses for him. “That mask is fully functional. It’s an open invitation to join us for any mission.”
“I appreciate the trust, but I’d only be in the way. Your team is better off without me.” He walked toward the door that led into the hallway without looking to see if Edge followed.
Edge was right on his heels. “We’re really not. I’m not.”
Mickey didn’t respond. He never knew what to say. Conversation was uncomfortable to him, especially the hard talks. He made his way to his bedroom so they could speak privately.
Edge closed the door behind him. “Where would you like these?” He motioned with the roses, showing what he meant.
Mickey glanced around, looking for a spot, and it hit him. He wanted the flowers. If they meant love, he wanted that too. “On the dresser, I suppose. It kind of gets sunlight. Do they need sunlight? I don’t know shit about flowers.”
Edge shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably.” He put them where Mickey had indicated. “They look good right here, though.” While he worked to center the flowers in exactly the middle of the dresser, Edge spoke as if he couldn’t do so while looking at Mickey. “I guess I could’ve brought these over myself since I was coming. But I know they made it safely this way, and I wasn’t sure if I’d lose my nerve halfway here. This household isn’t like mine. No one batted an eye at you getting flowers and Beau showed up with them too.”
Mickey sat on the edge of the bed and watched Edge. “Love is a good thing here. It hasn’t always lived under this roof. This was actually a pretty miserable job before Kylo came along.” Actually, it had improved quite a bit after Beau’s first wife committed suicide, but Mickey didn’t want to say that. He might have done the same in her shoes.
When it became obvious Edge couldn’t fuss with the flowers any longer, he paced. His gaze still steered clear of Mickey. “Are you okay? Have you fully recovered from your binge?”
“No.”
“Oh. Can I get you something? Another Gatorade? Something for a headache?”
He truly was the guy who looked out for everyone else, all while knowing he would get zero love in return. “No. I mean, I’m not okay.”
Edge stopped pacing and focused on him. “What’s wrong?” He really looked concerned and totally convinced Mickey was over him. Just like that.
“I’m not okay because I’m in love with you and I know you’ll never love me back. You care. I know that much, but I don’t think love is something you’ll ever give anyone.”
Edge didn’t react and still Mickey felt how deeply his words cut. “Maybe some people can’t be deprogrammed.” He made a helpless motion. “It’s like I’m one of two people and I don’t know how to be something in between. Either I’m the biggest mess anyone has ever seen, or I’m the one in control. Without that tight hold, then I’m always that first one. But the hardest thing about being the guy who holds it all together is that everyone sees me exactly the way you do. Do you really think I don’t love my brothers? That I’m incapable. Do you honestly believe I don’t love you?”
Mickey heard it weaved through his monotonous tone. The hurt. The bitterness. The love. But Mickey needed him to break past this with at least him or he would always be the one tossed in the street every time something triggered him.
“I don’t know. There’s a part of me that wants to believe, but I had believed with every fiber of my being that we were perfect, and I was wrong.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want to hear that you’re sorry.”
Edge’s mask slipped. “Then what do you want to hear? What do you need me to say? Because I don’t know how to be who you want. But I love you and I’m trying my ass off here, whether you see it or not. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m sorry I’m damaged. I’m devastated that I failed you. You’re the only person who has ever come to that house just for me. I’m pretty sure you’re the only person who even realizes I’m human and now you’re saying you don’t see me either.”
Mickey didn’t think Edge realized he cried or shouted. But Mickey saw the walls falling. He couldn’t look away from the passion the real Edge showed.
He held Mickey’s stare, looking completely wrecked. “I need you to… I just need you.”
“Come here.”
Edge looked defeated as he crossed the room.
Mickey snagged Edge’s hips and towed him closer until he stood between Mickey’s knees. He didn’t release him. “When you were breaking things off, tell me what was going through your head.”
Edge’s hands rose and fell. “I don’t know. It was just like my brain was trapped in a loop of fear and anger. No logic whatsoever cut through. It was like I stood by helpless, watching myself wreck everything, and I couldn’t stop it. But you’ve already told me you don’t want to hear excuses.”
Mickey massaged Edge’s hips. “I’m asking for a reason because I need to know what your plan is to stop it in the future. If you can’t tell me you’re trying, then why should I?”
“I talked to Austen. He started me on some meds. It’s too soon to know if they’ll work, but if they don’t, he says there’re others we can try.”
Try was exactly the word he wanted to hear. There was no hope for them if nothing changed. “Okay. Do you love me?”
Edge’s features softened. He set his hands on Mickey’s shoulders—like he wanted to touch Mickey but was scared of rejection. “I do. If you need me to say it in some certain tone, then I’m doomed to fail you. All I can do is say I love you and keep saying it until you—hopefully—believe.”
