Page 77 of Mended Fences
“You’re drunk.” She wrapped her thin cotton robe tighter around her sexy-as-hell body and crossed her arms.
“I’m not”—the glare she shot me was borderline lethal, and it had me rethinking my next words—“going to do it again.”
Elena shook her head and turned back toward the bedroom. I rolled to my stomach, planted my hands to the worn wood floors, and popped up to standing. I nearly crashed right into the damn wall, but I stuck the landing and stayed upright.Success!
When I made it to the bedroom, Elena was slipping off herrobe and crawling back into bed in a pair of tiny sleep shorts and a cropped T-shirt that showed a sliver of her perfectly toned and bronzed stomach.
I ditched my shoes, shirt, and pants as fast as I could without taking a header into the dresser and climbed in behind her—big spoon to her little—but she rolled to her back and looked up at me.
She looked so fucking sad, and I hated that fucking bastard for putting this look on her face. I’d seen it for weeks now, and I couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand that there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
She’d barely let me touch her, but maybe that was what she needed. Maybe she just needed to be reminded what it was like you be touched with love.
“Let me take it away, Lane. I’ll erase that he was ever here. It’ll only be me.”
I moved over her and positioned myself between her legs. I pressed my lips to hers, and she kissed me back, but her heart wasn’t in it. Still, I slid my hand up her shirt.
Her voice cracked as she whispered against my lips, “Chase, please.”
I pressed closer, the whiskey making everything blur except her beautiful face beneath me. “Please what? What do you need, Sweetness?”
Her hands pushed against my chest, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “I need you to get off me. It’s too much.”
The rejection stung, but I ignored it, desperate to make her feel good, to erase that haunted look she’d worn for weeks. “Just let me take care of you. I’ll make you feel so much better.”
“Chase... get... off.”
Her palms slammed into my shoulders with enough force to knock me backward. Tears streamed down her face, leaving glistening trails on her caramel skin.
My fist connected with the pillow beside her head. “Fuck!”
Elena’s frightened cry pierced the air—a sound I’d never heard before, but one I imagined came with the terror of living with someone who could snap at any moment.
And now she was making that sound because ofme.
The alcohol-induced haze shattered like glass, leaving razor-sharp clarity in its wake. My stomach heaved as I saw myself through her eyes—another drunk man towering over her, another set of hands not listening to “no,” another fist punching near her head. The room spun violently, but not from whiskey anymore. From pure, undiluted self-loathing.
I scrambled backward so fast I nearly fell off the bed, desperate to put distance between us. My hands shook as I watched her curl into herself, making her body smaller—a defensive posture that looked so wrong on this brave, strong woman who was a force of fucking nature.
Bile rose in my throat.
Idid this.Iput that look in her eyes.
I’d sworn to protect her, to be different, to be safe. Instead, I’d become just another man she had to survive.
“I’m so sorry.” The words felt inadequate, pathetic. They tasted like ash in my mouth. “I’m sorry, Elena. I didn’t mean to scare you, Sweetness. I just—fuck! I’m fucking this all up.” Shame crashed over me in waves, threatening to drown me. “I’m sorry,” I whispered into the darkness, knowing it would never be enough.
Her voice came gentle but firm through the shadows. “I know this is hard for you.”
The tenderness in her tone only twisted the knife deeper. Here she was, comforting me, when I’d just... when I’d almost... “It shouldn’t fucking be about me!”
“No, it shouldn’t. I understand why you’re struggling, but I cannot be with you like this. This is not helping me.”
Ice spread through my veins as I twisted to look at her, dreading what came next. “What does that mean?”
“I think it means we need to take a little time...”
My stomach dropped. In that moment, I knew—with crystal fucking clarity that cut through every drop of alcohol in my system—that I was about to lose the best thing in my life. And I had no one to blame but myself. “I don’t want that, Elena.”
