Page 41 of Mad As Hell

“I shouldn’t have done what I did,” he admitted, his jaw tight enough that I worried his teeth might shatter.

“No, you shouldn’t have. You should’ve driven Bex to the police station that night,” I whispered, angry tears spilling down my face. “You’re not a good guy, Ryan. I think I deluded myself into believing you were—that you could be better than men like Gary and Beckett. But at the end of the day, unless you’re getting something out of it, then morality is just a fucking inconvenience to you.”

“I meant, I shouldn’t have done what I did to Dean today,” he corrected in a soft tone. “What I did today, for you, fucked up more than you’ll ever know.” He dug into the pocket of the jeans and pulled out his phone, which must have been on silent. He flashed the screen at me so I could see the eleven missed calls from his father.

“You’re right, Maddie,” he added, putting the phone away as it started to vibrate again with an incoming call. “I’m not a good guy. I’ve never claimed to be. And, yeah, I’m an asshole for not encouraging Bex to go to the police. There’s a reason I didn’t, and one I’ll tell you about when I don’t think you’ll use my secrets to blow up everything I’ve spent the last decade working on.”

I blinked in surprise.

He stepped closer to me, the proximity of his body making mine hum with awareness.

“And, yes, I exposed Dean today for you. Because I might be willing to let this entire world go to hell, but I won’t let you burn with it.” His eyes glittered as he watched me. “Maybe that makes me an asshole or a dick, but you’re my priority. Not Bex, not my father, not even my own fucking agenda.”

My breath caught, the intense storm in his eyes sucking me in and rooting me to the place I stood.

His hand lifted to my face and gently traced the curve of my jaw until his fingers slid through my hair. “I’m choosing you, Madison. Today, tomorrow, and every other day.”

I swallowed hard. “Too bad you didn’t make that same decision two weeks ago.”

Regret burned in his eyes. “No one regrets that more than me, baby. Just… Dammit, Maddie, let me in.” His hand fisted my hair at the base of my skull as his forehead dropped to mine.

I let my eyes close as I inhaled him, filling my lungs with the air he breathed.

“I know something else is going on, but I can’t fix it unless you trust me.” His voice was soft and practically begging me to knock down the wall between us. “Just give me another chance, baby. Please.”

A strangled sob wrenched from my chest a second before his lips found mine. I reacted on instinct, lifting to my toes and wrapping my arms around his neck as I kissed him back.

He poured everything into his kiss. Regret, love, desperation, and hope. I tasted it on his lips and felt it in his touch.

Ryan might have betrayed me, but I still loved him.

I was such a freaking idiot.

His mouth moved to my cheek, kissing away another tear. “Madison, please. Let me in.”

I opened my eyes, and the raw emotion in his gaze almost made my knees buckle. My hand drifted to his mouth of its own accord, tracing the fullness of his bottom lip.

I gave him a sad smile. “No.”

And then I walked away from the man I loved.

CHAPTER 11

RYAN

I watched Maddie walk away, barely resisting the urge to chase her down, throw her over my shoulder, and kidnap her to some remote location where she’d be forced to give me another shot. Hell, I was even okay with Stockholm Syndrome at this point, if it meant she wouldn’t look at me that way.

Like I’d betrayed her.

Which, yeah, I fucking had.

“Dammit!” I hissed, punching the tree again. I glanced down at the smear of blood on the trunk and then at my mangled knuckles. Coach would have a bitch fit if I damaged my hand.

I flexed my fingers gingerly, testing them. I could feel one of the bones grinding against another as I grimaced around the pain. I’d probably fractured one, but I’d played through worse.

Our next game was against Havenshire, and my backup could beat their team hungover with explosive diarrhea. A bruised and slightly broken hand wouldn’t keep me from throwing enough passes to demolish their pansy asses.

“Didn’t go well, huh?”

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