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"Don't," he cut me off, shaking his head. And, had my rage not been blinding me, maybe I would have seen the pain in his eyes. "Don't do this, Mina."
"I didn't do this," I said, blinking hard because I felt the tears stinging in my eyes, completely humiliated that they existed at all. "I didn't do this. You did this. You made me do this."
"We can..."
"We can, what? We can work this out? No, actually, we can't. You wanted me to trust you and then you went ahead and did the one thing you could have done to ensure that I could never do that. Did you think this through at all? Or was this one of your 'I'm in a mood and therefore I can get away with anything I want' things? Because, I am not one of your brothers here. I don't have to grin and bear it. I don't have to put up with it. And I won't."
"Don't be a coward, Mina," he said, shaking his head, tone defeated. He knew I was right. He knew he was absolutely in the wrong with what he did. He was even sorry about it.
But there were times in life when sorry, while the only thing a person could say, still wasn't enough.
This was one of those times.
"I'm not being a coward, Renny," I said, feeling one of the tears slide hot and unstoppable down my cheek. "I'm saving myself."
"From what? From me?"
"From someone who would willingly do something he knows will hurt me. If you were just any guy, Renny, maybe I could have looked this over, chalked it up to you being an idiot. But you're not an idiot. And because you are who you are, you knew exactly what you were doing and exactly how much you could hurt me. And you went ahead and did it anyway. You hurt me on purpose. To prove a point. So, yes, Renny, yes. I am saving myself from you."
His face fell at that and he looked away for a long second before looking back, his face accepting. "That's really a shame then, Mina."
I didn't want to ask. The bigger part of me knew I needed to cling to self-preservation above all else right then.
But the words came from somewhere deep, a place I didn't want to analyze because I knew exactly what I would find there.
"Why's that?"
He moved a step closer, making me have to turn my head up to keep eye-contact. His hand raised slowly, tucking my hair behind my ear and gently swiping the trail the tear had left down my cheek.
"Because I fucking love you, Mina."
With that, his hand dropped and he made his way toward the gates that the guys had already opened, likely anticipating one of us at least would be storming that way eventually.
I watched him.
I hated to admit that, but I watched his back as he made his way up toward the front door, punched in the codes, and disappeared inside.
Then and only then did I turn away from the compound.
That was the precise moment that the dam broke too- the tears streaming down frantically, my breathing going shallow, my sobs a strangled little noise from trying to keep them in.
"Come on, babe," came a voice from behind me, very possibly the last voice I expected to hear. I could have anticipated Laz with his seemingly big heart. And I could have expected Cyrus with his easy-going sweetness. There was no way I could have guessed that Reeve would be the one to come to me. His hand went to my lower back, putting firm pressure there and pulling, making me fall into step with him as he walked me away from the compound.
"Where... are," I started, my voice breaking before I took a deep breath. "Where are we going?" I asked a little less pathetically.
"My car is down the side street. Figured the last thing you'd want is everyone gawking at you when you're trying to have a moment."
"A... moment?" I asked, reaching up to wipe my hands down my cheeks.
"A strong person like you doesn't have break downs. They have moments. You're having one."
Somehow, that helped.
He had, with just a few words, compartmentalized the entire situation for me, made it easier for me to box it up and seal it, then put it on a shelf to be taken down and dealt with later.
And I knew, I just knew that it was because he, at some time or another, had had a moment of his own, had needed to box up something and seal it and store it.
I had the distinct feeling, too, that he had never taken it back down, that it was still sitting there waiting to be opened.
"Here," he said, letting his hand drop and he bleeped the locks on a black pickup truck that was just a couple years old and dented and dinged. He wasn't one of those guys who made you take off your shoes before you got in. He was one of those 'a car is just a car' guys. I had always much preferred those. "Hop in," he added after he opened the door for me.
