Page 163 of Endgame
“You could do what, princess?” Apparently, I’m not done being a bastard, not done fucking with her. “Steal my wallet?”
She gasps, slapping me across the face. My cheek stings.
I flip her over onto her back, holding her by her throat as tight as I can without choking her.
Every breath, every swallow, hums against my palm.
They’re mine.
“Fuck you.” Another slap. This one centers me. This one wakes me the fuck up. It brings me back to her, to the quivering chin. The pain rolling off her. “Fuck you. Fuck. You. Everett.”
Fuck me, indeed.
What was I thinking? Snapping at her like that? Once again, I let my past come between us.
“I’m sorry.” I release my hold on her throat by some, turning us back so we’re both facing one another again. “I’m sorry, Aurora.”
She’s taken aback by it. Doesn’t breathe a word.
Her eyes watch me, but it feels for all the world like she peels the flesh from my bones. She picks me apart with her gaze, her lips pinched. Brow furrowed.
I don’t have to ask her what she finds there.
It’s obvious.
I’m damaged goods. Undeserving of her.
Yes, she thought I was worthy before. This, though, this last outburst had to have been the last straw.
Whether I’m right or wrong, the outcome stays the same.
Aurora belongs to me. My property. My salvation. My penance.
I’ll lock her up in this bedroom. If that’s what it takes to keep her, that’s exactly what I’ll do.
Until she accepts my apology, I’ll keep touching her.
Keep begging for her forgiveness.
By cupping her cheeks, I tell her,I’ll mend the broken pieces of you. I’ll make you feel whole for the first time.
By stroking her new bruise, I say,I won’t rest. You will smile. You will laugh. You will come back to me, even if it’s just to call me a bastard before you spread your legs and let me in anyway.
What actually comes out of my mouth is another, “I’m sorry.”
Aurora’s eyes flutter closed. I press my lips to each one. Her eyelids are hot, and it’s not long before tears roll from them.
My heart twists. More apologies come out of me when I kiss and lick them off her pretty face.
“That’s what secrets do, Everett.” When she finally looks at me, a scowl pulls at her lips.
Not for the first time, I notice that she’s way too serious for someone her age. Unfortunately, I’ve learned the hard way that pain doesn’t discriminate. It justis.
“They mess you up.” She doesn’t stop. “They mess us up. I can’t reach you when you shut me out like that, when you won’t let me prove I’m not the person you’ve built up in your head. Without the truth, we don’t stand a chance.”
She’s absolutely right.
I’m absolutely wrong.
