Page 296 of Power Play

Instead, she allowed the truth to remain ugly.

Charm should have said it.

“She looked at the floor,” I told them. “I watched something inside her shut down, and I knew before she said a pinche word. She chose the version of herself that could still walk back into that house and be their daughter.”

Cade’s voice hardened. “She left you standing alone?”

“I’ve stood alone before.”

“I know.”

“I’ve survived worse.”

“I know that too.”

I accelerated onto the highway. Kimball Falls stretched behind me as streetlights gave way to darkness and the road opened ahead.

Flint was almost two hours away. I could be there before midnight if the weather held and the cops found somebody else to bother.

The apartment key still felt like it was cutting into my palm.

“I told her once that I had lost worse than her,” I said. “Before Thanksgiving, when she cried over them like it would keep me from leaving. I told her I knew how to survive losing people.”

“What are you saying, Decker?” Cade asked.

My voice broke when I tried to answer, and clearing my throat didn’t hide it. “I don’t know if anything has ever destroyed me like this.”

The admission changed the air inside my truck and probably inside their car.

My throat closed around my next breath, but I forced it through. I wouldn’t pull over. I wouldn’t break down on the shoulder of the highway while Charm was probably crying in Aura’s arms and wondering why I couldn’t give her one more chance.

Charm had received more chances from me than anyone ever had, and she still hadn’t stopped long enough to hear my warning.

She had every fucking part of me, and it hadn’t been enough.

“I hate her,” I said.

Nobody argued.

“I fucking hate her, Cade. Fuck me, I love her so much that I feel her beneath my skin, and I hate her for it.” My voice rose over the engine. “I want her out of my life, my apartment, my head, and my fucking body. I want to peel her off my skin so I can breathe without tasting her in mi alma.”

The final word broke as I said it.

Briggs quietly translated. “My soul.”

Bliss cursed.

I tightened my jaw and stared at the lane ahead until the yellow lines sharpened again.

“She made me believe I could have something,” I continued. “That’s what I hate most. I was fine before her.”

“Were you?” Briggs asked quietly.

I gripped the wheel. “Not tonight.”

“All right.”

There was no argument or joke. He let me keep the lie because he understood that I needed it.