Page 154 of Boy of Ruin
I don’t hear any more fucking pans rattling around, but Ella doesn’t come over, either. Good thing, or I’d rip her apart too. Fuck them both. Fuck him for not believing our father was a piece of shit as soon as he found out what he did to me. Fuck Ella for fucking my husband.
“You should’ve murdered him that night,” I snarl at him as he pins my arms to my side, his fingers curled around my wrists, my muscles shaking as I try to fight him back. “This is your fault. This is all your fucking fault.”
He stops fighting for a second and I gain the advantage, my hands going to his throat as he frowns down at me. He grips my forearms again, straddling me, his knees on either side of my hips.
“Angel, I didn’t—”
“Why did you let him live?” I drop my hands by my sides, to the floor, closing my eyes. I feel my chin quivering.
Mayhem’s leaning over me, his fingers still around my forearms as he leans closer, his bare chest heaving.
“Why did you let him live?” I ask him again, my voice hoarse.
“I didn’t know. I wanted to think…” I hear him swallow. “I wanted to think he could be better.”
My stomach clenches with those words.
“And I’m sorry, Angel. I’m fucking sorry, and I know why you ran, and I know what Lucifer did.” That grief in my chest curls into a tighter knot. I still don’t open my eyes. As if, maybe, if I keep them closed, none of this will be real.
I spent a long, long time burying the worst experiences of my life.
Maybe I could do the same with my husband. Maybe I could forget he exists. Maybe I could run away and never look back this time. Break away from all of it. All of them.
“But fuck, Angel, he loves you. He fucking loves you.”
I still keep my eyes closed.
Silence rings out in the house. Silence as Maverick stays on top of me, his fingers around my forearms.
He leans down closer, his mouth inches from mine. I can feel his breath against my lips.
I hear footsteps.
I think about him. Ella. My husband.
How I wrecked them. How they put each other back together. If only for a moment.
I open my eyes.
Ella crouches down beside me as Maverick leans back, but he doesn’t get up and doesn’t let go.
Ella’s hand is on Maverick’s back, but another is on my brow, pushing my hair out of my face. Her green eyes are wide on mine as I stare up at both of them, my heart racing in my chest.
Are they going to try to fix me, too?
Ella is on her knees, and she leans close, presses her lips to my brow.
I flinch with her mouth on me, but I don’t move away. I try to understand, instead. I know sex can heal.
I know Lucifer needed healing.
And for the first time, I regret what I did. I regret running, even with the knife to my head. The words Maddox whispered in the dark. Even dragging me to Noctem.
I shouldn’t have run.
Maybe I could have helped Lucifer heal by staying. Maybe we were both so busy drowning in our own grief, we couldn’t keep each other afloat.
But I could’ve tried.
