He pauses, his hand moving up and down my back. “I don’t know what happened after. The other one kicked me in the head, and I woke up in the hospital a few days later. With a slash across my back that needed over fifty stitches.”
His fingers slide slowly through my hair. “I had no chance at parole after that. I hurt a guard. A piece of shit who attacked me, but they didn’t care. No one cares when you’re an inmate. So they charged me with assault. I had to serve the full five years, then another three on parole, and those two fuckers just got fired. Maybe a record. That’s it.”
His hand tightens in my hair for a moment, then his chin settles on the top of my head. “The last two years were the worst. They put me in solitary under the guise of protection, and I wentfucking crazy. I was already past my breaking point, but that silence? The complete isolation? It ruined me completely.”
“That can’t be fucking legal,” I whisper, voice shaking. “Keeping someone like that for two years.”
“There’s no law against it,” he says flatly.
“But why didn’t they protect you before?” I snap, leaning back in outrage. “Why did they let it get to that point?”
He shrugs. “Until then, it was just inmate scuffles. They saw me as a potential problem, sure. But fights weren’t out of the norm there.”
“That’s not right,” I whisper. “It’s just not right. No human being should be treated like that.”
A corner of his mouth lifts, but the smile is bitter. “I wasn’t a human being to them, adorable. I was just a number. That’s how it works.”
He sighs and looks away. “And by the time I got out, I didn’t see myself as human either. I went off the deep end for the first year. Drinking. Women. Fighting. At least I was smart enough to keep it at the clubhouse, to not get arrested again. It still drove Bones nuts,” he murmurs. “He wanted his brother back, but his brother was gone. He was afraid I’d end up dead and he wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t far from a quick exit. I was trying to destroy myself any way I could.”
“The blow-up finally came when he found me doing lines with one of the club girls. With me still on parole, it was more than stupid. It was dangerous.”
He rolls his neck, groaning. “He locked himself in a room with me. Got me to spill everything. Then, when I sobered up, he threw me in the ring and spent the whole match trying to punch sense into me. And somehow, it worked. I started focusing on helping him grow the club, make it stronger. And I started planning…”
His eyes find mine, black fire consuming the air between us. “…planning for you. I didn’t really care when, or if, I’d ever get to the cartel or Bowie.”
He leans in, his forehead resting against mine. “But I did care about you. Because I loved you, and the anger wouldn’t let me forget. The monster wanted his revenge.”
My fingers tremble against his leather. Inside, I’m nothing but broken glass.
I understand now. I understand so much. But the hurt is still there — his hurt, my hurt — and no amount of love is enough to heal us. It can’t be. His words from tonight will haunt me forever, and they’re proof we never stood a chance. That there is no chance for us.
When I speak, my voice is shaky. Barely there. “Do you remember when you replaced all the locks in the house because the clicking sound was driving me insane? After the dungeon?”
He nods warily. “Yeah…”
“I wish all problems were that easy to fix. I wish I could fix everything,” I whisper, voice cracking in the middle. “I wish I could fix you. Make you forget that pain. But I can’t.”
His fingers brush against my cheek. “I never asked you to fix me, adorable,” he murmurs. “That’s my job, and I’m working on it.” His head dips, eyes locking on mine. “Do you need me to fix you?”
I shake my head slowly and rest my palm against his chest. His heartbeat is like a siren’s call, begging mine to answer back. But reality is much too cruel, and we both need to accept it.
“We’re both too broken,” I say quietly, but with resolve. “Nothing can be built on a broken foundation.”
“Adora—” he starts, but I stop him with a finger against his lips.
“Please let me finish,” I rasp. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I’m sorry for the role I played in sending you to prison. And Iknow you’re sorry for what you did to me. And in the end, that’s enough. It has to be. I’ve accepted that none of us can change the past. We can only be careful with our future. And I wish you a bright one, where pain doesn’t linger anymore.”
I cup his cheek, trying to make him see the truth. “But that future can’t be with me. Please move on. You have so much to offer. Don’t waste your time chasing something that can never be repaired.”
His brows furrow. His fingers tangle in my hair. “You’re not a waste of time, adorable.Weare not a waste of time,” he growls. “You’re—”
A sudden, jarring sound makes us both jolt. We turn toward the window, just as a blinding light floods the van.
“Yo! What the hell are you idiots doing?” A familiar voice comes from outside.
Shit. Domino.
I scramble back to my seat, as fast as I can. In my hurry, I manage to knee Ghost in the groin. He grunts, helping me move, and throws me a narrowed, accusing glare. I wince and whisper a muted,‘I’m sorry,’while he rolls down the window.
