Page 81 of Diesel
I close my eyes, my tears mixing with the spray pelting my back, and I let him tend to me. He looks like he wants to vomit, or spill blood himself. I don’t know which.
“Firefly… What happened?”
The words get trapped behind my teeth. He doesn’t stop washing me, his hands skimming over my skin so gentle it makes me want to cry more.
“I…”
His lips press against my forehead, like he can stop my thoughts from spiralling just with his mouth.
“Take your time,” he says.
I swallow the stone in the back of my throat. “She was… Her wrists…”
I don’t know why it’s so hard to say. Violence isn’t something I’ve been shielded from, but this feels different. Somehow more horrifying than anything I’ve seen before.
Chloe… She’s young, drowning in her own head and we should’ve helped her. We could’ve… done something. Told her she’s not alone and that…
What?
What do you say to someone who is living with so much pain that dying feels like the only way out?
A sob tears out of me, brutal and pitiful all at once. Icover my face with my now clean hands. I don’t want Zane to see me like this.
His arms wrap around me, pulling me to his chest. I feel his mouth in my hair, then against my temple.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “I should never have left.”
I shake my head against him. “This isn’t your fault.”
“Anything that touches you, Makenna, is my fault. I should have protected you better.”
I lift my chin, tipping my head back so I can meet his eyes. He looks broken, like he’s fighting demons I can’t see. “No one knew she was going to… cut herself like that.”
He exhales so hard it makes my chest hurt. “I brought you here to keep you safe, and all this has done is give you new nightmares. Probably brought up a few old ones too.”
I try not to flinch. Neither one of us needs to focus on the past right now. “You can’t shield me from every bad thing in the world, Zane.”
“I can try.”
I press a kiss over where his heart sits, and I swear he doesn’t breathe until I pull back. “All that matters is that you’re here now. Holding me up when I can’t hold myself.”
The water is going cold, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. His arms tighten around me, like he’s scared to let go in case I float away. “I’ll always be your crutch when you need me.” He brushes his mouth to mine, neither one of us caring about the water raining down over us. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you needed me. I keep failing you.”
I take his face between my hands, forcing him to look at me. “You’re not failing me. Love, relationships, life —it’s not a fairytale, baby. It’s messy and it’s bloody, and sometimes it leaves you crying in the shower while someone washes you down. I don’t need perfection from you, Zane. I just need you here, to pick up the pieces when I drop them.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, like he’s filtering those words, reaching for understanding. Then he says, “Then I’ll spend the rest of my life walking behind you and picking up anything you let go of.”
I know he will, because he already does it. I press my cheek to his chest, wrapping my arms around his back.
My life.
My heart.
My husband.
TWENTY-SIX
DIESEL
