Page 89 of Bitter Truths

I know this only too well because Patch has threatened me on more than one occasion, but how can I not do something?

“I know,” I say, “but—”

“You know?” Griffin asks in a low tone. “Have you met these guys before?”

“Yes,” I whisper uncomfortably, avoiding Max’s pained stare.

“When?” Griffin demands, and I flinch.

“It was a while ago—”

“Where?” he continues.

“It was here,” Max says, wincing when Griffin swings toward him.

“You brought them here? With your sister here?” he bellows, the veins in his neck standing on end.

“Griff,” I shout, sucking in a breath when he turns to me with a wild look in his eyes. My heart clenches at his feral gaze and I muster a smile. “Please.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Can you feel the burn?

GRIFFIN

I’m so fucking angry, I’m trembling. Max knowingly put Halsey in jeopardy by bringing that animal here, and on the wings of that rage is fear because I saw the look in that fucker’s eyes, and I’m not sure my threats had much of an impact.

What would I do if I lost Halsey forever? Fuck me, I can’t even fathom the thought. The last time, I lost my mind and tore apart my room like some crazed beast.

My parents had a shit fit, and I told them to fuck off. It didn’t go over well, but nothing with them ever did because I was filled with rage by that age, and instead of seeing my pain, they saw the remnants of my room.

One of the reasons why we moved to that shithole town where I met the Moores was I was out of control, and my parents couldn’t handle me. But when I met Halsey, she gave me what my fucking parents never could, and the violence that seethed below the surface abated.

Tearing apart my room was the first time since we moved that I lost my control, but how could I not lose my fucking mind when Halsey ended up in the hospital?

Now, panic is pushing at my chest, and the familiar rage bubbles below the surface, looking for a reason to emerge.

“What? No wait, let me guess, it’s okay because he’s fucking sorry,” I sneer, and I know I’m taking out my fearful rage on her, but I can’t stop the tide spilling from my mouth.

The prospect of something happening to her makes me feel like a wild fucking animal backed into a corner.

Her lips wobble when she smiles and my heart clenches awfully in my chest as she says, “Yes, and I forgive you too, Griffin.”

“I can’t fucking believe this,” I mutter, turning away. I can’t fucking breathe through the terror while she’s begging me with her fucking blue, blue eyes to—well, I don’t fucking know. But if it’s to forgive Max, who’s brought trouble again, she’s delusional. How many hits am I supposed to take before I break?

“Griffin,” she says, touching my back, and I stiffen under her touch.

It’s excruciating to feel her without having the right to hold her, and I give a brief thought to just taking what I want like I did before. It seemed to work at the fucking time, except her liquid eyes hurt my soul.

I’m tired of being the one to cause her pain, and I can only hope that maybe, with my efforts, there’s some kind of redemption for me.

She drops her hand, but her voice wavers when she continues. “I do. It doesn’t matter anymore. I love you. I do.”

With a shuddering breath, I turn and grab her cheeks, staring into her eyes before leaning my forehead against hers. Do I want her forgiveness? Hell fucking yes, but not if it means I can never be with her again.

I wasn’t lying. I’d rather see hate from her than nothing at all, and it’s this that tells me I can’t pretend to be with Miranda. Not for anything in the world, which probably makes me a piece of shit, but I’ll take it over never having her this close to me again.

When I breathe deep, my chest clenches at the familiar smell of her, and a nostalgic warmth fills my soul. She doesn’t know it, but I used to secretly smell her because she always smelled like sunshine and life, something that even to this day makes my dick hard.

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