Page 114 of Roped

His jaw moves back and forth, his wide chest jerking, but he dips his head in a nod.

I breathe out a small sigh of relief and wrap my arms around myself. “Now, do whatever it is you came here to do and leave.”

His eyes circle over my features, my body, as if he doesn’t want to stop watching me. As if he hasn’t seen me in ages instead of only a couple of days. And as much as I hate him looking at me like that, I can’t bring myself to find fault in it because I understand. I understand how those two days of not seeing me may have affected him when he needs to watch me every second of every day. When I feel the same way about him. When I can’t stop watching him in this moment either.

“I’ve been focusin’ on the wrong thing,” he says finally, bringing his eyes back up to mine. “Been focusin’ on all I did wrong since I saw you. Draggin’ you into my shit, stealin’ you, not once but twice. Puttin’ you in harm’s way, punishin’ you for things that aren’t your fault. When that ain’t the problem. It’s me. I’m the problem.” He shifts on his feet, his hands curled into fists, his gaze direct as he continues, “You were right when you said I live in the past. I do. I’ve been livin’ in that burnin’ car for the last sixteen years. Been wakin’ up in it, goin’ to sleep in it. Breathin’ in its fumes, feelin’ its fire. Every single day since my parents died, I’ve been tryna bring ’em back, been tryna save them in my head. Over and over. And when I can’t, I spend my time thinkin’ about avenging them, wreakin’ havoc. On the outside, I go to work; I look after the ranch; I live with my family. People are afraid of me, of my scars, yes, but they think I’m alive. I’m livin’ but I’m not. I’m dead. My heart don’t beat right. I’ve got no hopes or dreams. No wishes, nothin’ to root for, nothin’ to look forward to. There’s more anger in my veins than blood, more violence in my body than bone and muscle. Everythin’ I do and everythin’ I’ve done has been colored by it, by what happened that day, by the past. Even you.”

I wince, my nails digging into my waist, my arms hugging me so tight that I can barely breathe. But I know if I let myself go, I’ll fall apart. I’ll fall to pieces. As always, I’ll run to him and tell him to stop, to not go. Tell him to take me. I’ll go wherever he wants and he doesn’t have to love me back. I’ll love him enough for both of us. But love doesn’t work that way. It’s selfless, yes, but for it to live, it takes two hearts. Two roped hearts and two braided souls.

And I deserve that. He deserves it too.

So I stand rooted to my spot and watch him go through this pain. Watch the raw emotion flash through not only his face but also his body, all on display without his Stetson to hide behind. As if he’s the one onstage now and I’m watching.

“It didn’t start the day I took you or found out who you were,” he continues, his eyes locked with mine. “It started way before. Started the day I saw you for the first time. I looked at you and I couldn’t stop watchin’ you. Couldn’t take my eyes off of you. For months, I followed you around, watched you through the distance, through the dark, through windows, through the crowd; put a camera in your room even. Always close but not close enough where you could see me, see my face. And I did that because I thought if you ever saw me, saw the scar on my face, you’d want nothin’ to do with me. Not a girl like you, so pretty and young, so full of life. And then I found out who you were…”

He shakes his head, his eyes shimmering. “It felt like all my dreams, the ones I didn’t even have, didn’t even remember seein’, shattered. And I kept thinkin’ it was because of who your daddy was, and how there’s no fuckin’ way I’d ever betray my family by fallin’ for the Turner Princess but it wasn’t that. I realize that now. It was me. The fact that I’d become this monster after what happened. A monster after your family’s blood. That needs violence and anger to live, that wants to destroy your family so bad that he doesn’t know how to live. Didn’t think if you found that out there was any way you’d wanna be with me. So I made you see who I was so you’d stay away. I made it so that my scar became the least scary thing about me. You didn’t, though. Stay away from me. ’Cause you’re brave. Braver than I ever could be.”

He pauses here to look into my eyes, his own so open and molten, bleeding with emotion, that it’s hard to keep our connection. I do it, though. Because there’s no way I can look away from him, not now when he’s pouring his heart out.

“But I thought that was it,” he begins again, swallowing thickly. “What I did to you, all the things I did to you, I thought that was the worst of it; the worst of my crimes. But I didn’t realize the hold my past had on me. Shoulda gotten a clue when I saw how the world was usin’ it against me; how easy I made it for ’em to use my anger for their own gain. I even put my sister in danger because of it, put you in danger. But again, you were right when you said men are fuckin’ idiots. So it didn’t occur to me, not until I walked away from you that night and came back to an empty barn. Not until I saw your face on the screen, your eyes lookin’ right in the camera, right at me, tellin’ me that you’re the bravest person I know. It didn’t occur to me what a fuckin’ dumb motherfucker I’ve been, a coward hidin’ behind the past, until they took you and I spent the next forty-eight hours lookin’ for you. I spent the next forty-eight hours livin’ and relivin’ every single moment with you ’cause that’s all I had. ’Cause I didn’t have you, didn’t have you to look at, to hold, to breathe in. Didn’t know where you were, if you were okay, if you were…”

His chest moves violently, wildly. Even his knees buckle, causing mine to do the same. Making it so very, very hard to stay in my spot. Shifting on his feet again, he goes on, his voice low and rough, shaky in places, “Never really thought what my parents would’ve wanted for me, not until you said they’d want me to live, not just survive. But I also think they’d want me to learn. From the past, from my mistakes. From the fact that I can’t change the beginning, but I’ve got the power to change the end. So this is me, tryna do that. This is me changin’ the end. This is me comin’ back to the barn after I left you, racin’ back on Tulip, to tell you that you’re that girl. The girl I’ve been searchin’ for my whole fuckin’ life. You’ve been that girl since the moment I saw you through your window, braidin’ your hair at night. Lookin’ so pretty my heart broke in my chest, took its first beat in over a decade and a half, and now you’re the one it beats for. You’re the girl I’ve been dreamin’ about, long before my dreams died in a car accident. You’re the reason why nothin’ felt right, not ever. No other girl, no other connection. Everything felt empty and meaningless. Life felt lonely, even before. I was always an outsider, different from everyone else. Too serious, too intense, too quiet. Things that I wanted felt too rough, too wrong, too impossible. But then I met you and things started to make sense. Even through my bullshit. With you, I’m at peace. Words don’t hurt anymore. No noise or nightmare can touch me. No dream, no desire feels wrong or rough. With you I’m safe, Peyton. These past few weeks with you have been the best of my life. Wakin’ up with you in the mornin’, goin’ to sleep with you in my arms. Takin’ you on rides, talkin’ to you, playin’ with you. Feedin’ you, lovin’ on you. I didn’t even realize I was livin’ my own dream, livin’ the life I always wanted for myself, before life became somethin’ else.

“So this is me tellin’ you I love you too. I’ve been in love with you since the first moment I saw you, and if my head hadn’t been fucked up like it was, I would’ve told you that. Instead of leavin’ that night and breakin’ your heart. I thought I was protectin’ you from a life with me, with a monster; protectin’ you from the world’s judgment and condescension. But the truth is I was also protectin’ myself. I’ve lost a lot in my life, see, and I was afraid that if you figured out I wasn’t the man you thought I was, or if livin’ with me became too difficult, you’d leave; and I knew I wouldn’t survive that. Somehow I survived the car crash that destroyed my family, but I wouldn’t survive you leavin’ me. You runnin’ away from me is my biggest nightmare, and I was a fuckin’ coward for hidin’ behind it. Because life ain’t about just survivin’, is it? It’s about livin’, so this is me askin’ you to release me from my promise because I can’t live without you, darlin’. I can’t let you go and I’m here to steal you away for the last time. I’m here to steal you away right. Not for the land or revenge or for someone else. I’m here to steal you for myself. Like I should’ve done from the beginnin’. To keep you with me. Forever.”

I’m crying.

No, I’m sobbing. Big, ugly sobs that rack my entire body. That make it very hard for me to stand on my two feet and not crumple to the ground. So I guess it’s a good thing that he takes me in his arms. I know I told him to stay all the way over there, but then again, I wasn’t expecting him to say all those things. I wasn’t expecting him to say he loves me too. Not only that, but to tell me I’m that girl for him. The girl I so badly wanted to be all this time. His one and only, the one he’d want to rope to his side for life and not just for a few weeks.

But it’s all a waste, isn’t it? Because this would never work between us.

“Shh,” he goes, squeezing his arms around me, plastering me to his body as he rocks me. “It’s okay, Princess. I’ve got you.”

I fist his shirt and burrow my face in his chest as I shake my head. “Y-you’re not a monster.”

His chest flexes as he keeps rocking me side to side. “Okay.”

“I mean it,” I insist, twisting my fists in his shirt because I know he only said it to appease me.

“Shh,” he goes again, his palms stroking my back. “Just breathe, yeah?”

“No,” I snap and burrow even deeper into his chest. “You’re not a monster. I am.”

He goes still at my proclamation, and I clench my eyes shut. Then he wraps my braid around his wrist and tugs my head back. It’s not rough but it’s not gentle either, his action. It’s firm, much like his features and voice as he asks, “What?”

I swallow, looking up at him. “You were right to leave that night. It’ll never work between us.”

His jaw flexes as he asks, “Why?”

I study him for a few seconds before confessing, “Because don’t you see there’s a reason why the past has had such a hold on you? Because it’s that bloody. It’s that inescapable. It’s everywhere. It wasn’t an accident, you know that, right? He tried to kill your sister, my dad. And then he forced her to go away, kept you apart for years and years, just because he’s that evil. And I know how that feels. How your sister felt. I know. Because he did the same to me.”

My breaths hiccup at just the thought of what his sister must’ve gone through, how alone she must’ve felt. We talked for hours in that room and she told me about her life in the convent. She didn’t make it sound awfully lonely, but I could read between the lines. Because I’ve led that life, too, where I pretended everything was okay when I was dying inside. And it made me realize how naive I’ve been. How could I even think that something like this, what my father did, could ever go away? How could I expect Radisson to not only move on but to also build a life with me, with the daughter of a monster?

“He did the same to me,” I repeat, a tear flowing down my cheek, making his chest shake with an angry breath. “And as if that wasn’t enough, he came up with a plan to use it. To use all of it against you for his precious land. And I’m his daughter. I’m a monster’s daughter, Radisson, a monster who took so much from you. So if anyone’s a monster between the two of us, it’s me; and I don’t think it could ever work between us.”

He watches me for a few beats, his features harsh, his eyes glimmering. Then, squeezing his arms around me, he goes, “It’s not your fault. That you think that. It’s mine.” I frown and open my mouth to object, but he keeps going, “Threw the past in your face so many times, you think you can’t escape it. You think I can’t escape it either. Been really good at convincin’ you of that, haven’t I? So I won’t try to convince you of the opposite. Instead, I’ll show you. I’ll show you that we’ll work. We’ll more than fuckin’ work; we’ll fit. Like we always have.”

I blush because I know what he means. “I didn’t—”