Page 100 of Overkill

But I’d made it so much worse.

She was right. I lost my temper on the boy because…because I liked him. Because I was desperate for him to turn out alright. Because Marc was me in a lot of ways. And when I was his age, I had a fork in the road. I could have chosen to become as abusive as the “men” who had been my examples in life, or I could have gone off and chosen my own way, carving my own path.

As winding and fucked up as my life had been, I’d ended up here.

And at the very least, I could look myself in the mirror and not hate the person I saw there. I could be in my own head, in my thoughts, and it wasn’t an absolute hellscape.

“I know, angel.”

She was right.

“You don’t ever get to talk to Marcus like that. Never.” She was on the brink of tears, and it was my fault.

“I know.”

She paused before shaking her head.

“I don’t want you to come ba—”

“I know.” I shut my eyes. I couldn’t bear to hear it. Not yet. Maybe tomorrow. I could handle it better tomorrow.

But not right now.

I didn’t want to hear her kick me off her property and out of her life—out of their lives.

I’d respect her wishes, but there was something about her saying it that felt so unbearable, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stay standing.

The pit at the bottom of my stomach was so delicate, I knew her words would punch a hole in my chest. It was better to feel empty than like I was dying all over again.

And with all my good intentions, I’d still failed. I’d still lost the girl. The family.

If she told me to, I would. I would go to the barn, pack up my shit, and start walking. Back to the road, back to riding the rails. Back to going from farm to farm as needed.

“I’m just gonna clean my things and go. You won’t…” I swallowed, unable to form the words. The promise that my putrid shadow would never darken her door again.

“Marcus didn’t deserve that,” she said, her voice deflated. “He didn’t—”

Tears streamed down her face. They did on mine, too. “I know.”

I fell into a seat, the legs scraping as it settled with my weight, and I dropped my elbows on my knees.

I added, “You don’t deserve it, either.”

She didn’t deserve my shit.

I clenched my hands into fists so I wouldn’t lunge for her, take her in my arms, and kiss her face until her tears stopped staining her skin. Until I could swallow her bitterness as my own and protect her the way I’d failed to when I saw her hanging over the raging fucking river. “You don’t deserve for him to say those things to you, and you don’t deserve to be hurt by me, either.”

She didn’t deserve what had happened to her. What was happening to her now.

She stared at me, those glassy, phoenix eyes igniting something in me that I’d rather disappear instead.

She was so pretty that it hurt. Her beautiful existence was a stab to my chest. Me, with my mistakes from years ago that would never be erased, we would never do enough to earn a place in this house, by her side.

“I’m sorry, Melody.”

Her brows scrunched in confusion, like no one had ever willingly apologized to her before. No one probably had.

“I’ll pack up my things and get out of your hair.” But I wouldn’t promise to stay away.