This woman.
“I love you.” The words fall out like the most natural thing in the world.
I bend down and press my lips softly to hers, my thumbs moving instinctively to wipe the tears from the apples of her cheeks, catching them before they fall any farther.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe against her. “Fuck…I’m so sorry, Johnnie.”
My mind spins, scrambling for the right things to say. Words that might somehow carry enough weight to ease even a fraction of what she’s been holding all these years.
But before any more sympathy can form, something else crashes in.
Something I have no control over.
It rolls through me like a freight train, sudden and unstoppable, tearing through every other thought in its path.
Rage.
My heart begins to pound, heavy and violent against my ribs. My blood boils, heat flooding through my veins so quickly it almost makes me dizzy.
The shift is so abrupt, so powerful, that I take Johnnie gently by the arms and move her away from me. Carefully.
Because whatever is building inside me right now, it’s dangerous.
And she can’t be anywhere near the crossfire.
I stand and make my way toward the bathroom, putting distance between us, even though every cell in my body protests the moment I do. It feels wrong to step away from her, like some invisible force is pulling me back toward where she’s sitting.
Like I’m meant to be beside her.
But the heat raging through me won’t allow it.
The cool tile beneath my feet does nothing to relieve the simmering anger boiling through my body. I stop in front of the mirror, bracing both hands against the vanity. I turn on the faucet and splash cold water onto my face, letting it drip down my skin before finally looking up. For a second I almost don’t recognize the man staring back at me. There’s a storm behind eyes that are normally clear…controlled. Steady. Now they’re dark. The lines in my forehead ache from the strain of clenching my jaw so tightly.
Lee. The name echoes through my mind like a gunshot.
Lee hurt Johnnie.
Hurt her in the worst way possible.
And I was right there.
Next door.
Probably sound asleep…while the love of my life endured things so horrible, so disgusting, I can barely allow my mind to touch them. The thought makes my stomach twist. I draw in a deep breath and grab the towel beside the sink, dragging it slowly across my face. The fabric is rough against my skin, grounding me for a second. When I open my eyes again, there’s another reflection in the mirror. She stands in the doorway. My T-shirt hangs down to her knees, swallowing her frame. Her face is soaked with tears, strands of hair clinging to the dampness onher cheeks. Her eyes are red and swollen, but the thing that’s most noticeable of all…is the worry.
“Collins…what are you doing?” Her voice cracks, splintering something inside my chest even further.
“You stay here,” I tell her, forcing the words out evenly, even though my pulse is still pounding through my ears. “There’s not much food in the fridge. Call and order anything you want. The keys to my truck are on the hook in the laundry room if you’d rather go pick something up.”
I move past her toward the bedroom.
“I’ll leave my credit card on the counter. Use the shower. Make some coffee. Hell, drink the wine—whatever you want.” My voice hardens slightly. “I’ll be back.”
I flip on the light in the walk-in closet, grabbing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I can feel her presence lingering in the doorway.
“Collins…you’re scaring me.” Her voice wavers. “What are you going to do?”
That gets my attention. I turn and walk back toward her.
