Page 6 of Diesel
Zane’s eyes flash, his jaw flexing like bands wrapped around the bones, but when he speaks his voice is shattered. “Firefly.”
The name he gave me all those years ago usually covers me like a warm blanket, but right now, it’s a gut punch.
“Don’t.” I stop him before he can crawl under my skin, before he can make me doubt myself. “Just…Don’t.”
The war raging inside him barely crosses his face, but I see the signs. The way his teeth grind together, the hardness in his eyes, even the way he’s standing perfectly still, not a hint of movement, like he’s scared he’ll crumble if he does.
“Don’t? You were gone. Justgone. Not a fucking word, not a conversation. Phone turned off, empty drawers andthis—” He reaches into his kutte and tosses a stack of papers on the bed. They scatter, but neither of us move to gather them. I don’t need to look to know what they are. I spent hours reading every line before I left them on thekitchen counter and walked out of the life we’d built for years. “You want a divorce?”
This time, I’m the one who flinches. That word is dirty—one that was never meant for us. Tears prick my eyes and I blink to stop them from falling.
“What was I supposed to do?” I ask, my voice barely carrying across the room.
“I don’t know, maybe pick up the fucking phone and talk to me?”
I laugh, but it sounds brittle. “Yeah, because that’s worked out so well for me in the past. I told you I was dying in this marriage and nothing changed.”
He stares at me, as if he can drag my thoughts from my head, understand how we got to this place.
“No.” It’s firm. Solid. A wall between us.
I blink. “No?”
“This isn’t over, babe.”
I guessed he’d say that, prepared for it, but all the rehearsed arguments I had with myself didn’t include him standing in front of me vibrating with fury and hurt. “That’s not your decision to make.”
The way he tilts his head is calculating, and that scares me more than anything he could say. He’s thinking. Planning. Strategising.
“You think you can stop me from dragging you back?” He walks toward me, and it takes all my strength not to shy away. “You think you get to decide when we’re done?”
I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Just sign the papers and let me go,” I say softly.
He stares at them scattered across the bed like they’ve personally offended him. Like he’s contemplating settingthem on fire. “No,” he says, like it’s the only word he has left in his arsenal.
He moves so fast I barely register him until he’s in my space and my spine is pressed against the wall behind me. I don’t fight as his hands bracket either side of my head, caging me.
Don’t breathe him in, don’t get lost in those dark eyes of his. Eyes that have seen too much, done too much. Sacrificed so much for me.
“You’re not giving up on us. I won’t allow it.” He cups my face, soft compared to what’s dancing in his eyes. His chest stutters as he drags in ragged lungfuls of air. “We’ve been through hell together, you and me. There is no me without you. You’re mine, firefly.”
My own chest heaves as I try to hold my shit together, but I can’t. My eyes burn, my throat too. I want to collapse into the bed and cry until I’m exhausted.
“I’m not yours. I’m your dirty little secret. I’m your Friday night booty call.” Every word pierces like a bullet. I don’t stop shooting though. I can’t now that I’ve started firing. I shove his chest. “You made me yours and then treated me like I don’t matter. You made me believe in the fairytale, Zane.” The sob rips out of me, painful and fractured, like my heart. “Sign the papers, let me go and we can forget any of this ever happened.”
It feels as if the walls are closing in around me. I just want it to be over, for the pain to stop.
“You think I could forget any part of us?” The hoarse rasp of his voice makes my tears fall faster. No, I don’t. Because I couldn’t either. He captures a tear from my cheek, wiping it away. “You’re not leaving me, Makenna.”
“You can’t make me stay.”
It’s the wrong thing to say. He’s already calculating how to prove that statement wrong.
He puts his shoulder to my belly and hoists me up like I’m a sack of potatoes. I squeal as my world tips upside down and his arm bands around my thighs to hold me in place. My vision rolls and bile rushes up my throat as I slam my fists against his spine.
“Put me down!”
