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Ramming my hands into his chest, I shoved. My limbs still felt weak and shaky, but there was anger now too, and I clung to the heat of it, using it as a crutch. “You think it’s easy?” I accused. “To tell someone I was discarded. Unwanted by the two people who literally made me.”
Who the hell doesn’t want something they themselves created?
My chest heaved, and I pushed off the wall to pace. “I was afraid, okay? Afraid if I told you my own family abandoned me—a prominent, well-respected family, no less—you would too.”
The anger in his voice had drained away. “I would never do that.”
“He used to lock me in the closet. For hours, maybe even days at a time,” I confessed, staring at the ground. “He said I was bad and I should think about what I did. Sometimes he hit me too, as though he thought he could beat the stuff he hated out of me.”
Arsen made a sound, anger back and wild on his face. “That scumbag put his hands on you?”
“Not very often because he didn’t want anyone to see the bruises. Honestly, getting locked in the closet was worse. Sometimes he’d turn on the bathroom faucet on the other side of the wall. It would drip for hours.”
I was snatched nearly off my feet, anchored into his chest. “That’s enough,” he said, gruff. “I understand now. I understand why you couldn’t tell me.”
“Pretty sure the stress is what caused the tinnitus. Maybe my twisted brain thought the ringing would block out the dripping. Instead, they both drove me insane.”
He hugged me harder, and I whispered, “I never told anyone that before. Not even Kruger.”
“I don’t care anymore,” he swore. “I was so caught up in knowing everything, having every part of you, I never once considered what it would cost you to give.”
“You do have every part of me,” I whispered. “Even the parts you don’t know about love you best.”
He let out a sob that ruffled my hair.
“It doesn’t matter, though,” I said, wiggling free of his grasp. “We can’t be together.”
“What?”
“Even though he disowned me, I’m still the son of your father’s rival.”
“I don’t care!” he spat. “That means nothing to me.”
I smiled sadly, looking beyond his shoulder to the man who’d just stepped around the corner. “You’re the son of a senator. A reminder of my childhood trauma and part of a world where I do not belong.”
Arsen’s face contorted, and he reached for me.
“Son.”
His hand froze midair at the sound of his father behind us.
“You’re needed inside.”
“I’m busy,” he called over his shoulder.
“I just flew across the state because drugs were found in your car. Get your ass inside.”
Our eyes met. It felt like goodbye.
My lip wobbled, and he groaned, pulling me into his arms. “Give me an hour,” he whispered, making my scalp prickle. “One hour and we’ll work this out.”
I shook my head.
He pulled back, holding me at arm’s length. “I’ll never give up on you, princess. Please don’t give up on me.”
“Arsen!” His father’s voice was stern.
Even with the man behind us fuming with impatience, Arsen swooped in and pressed his lips to mine. A brief, hard kiss. A promise.
