Page 365 of Faking the Goal

His voice drops lower.

"Every time another man touched you, it felt like someone was carving me open with a dull knife and making me stand there smiling while they did it. But I endured it." His gaze softens again, frighteningly tender. "Because we had been separated for fourteen years. You didn't know I was coming back. You had needs. You were lonely. So I tried to understand." His lips twitch into a small smile. "I forgave you, kitten. Every single time."

Acid crawls up my throat. He sounds so fucking deranged, every word twisted beyond reason, and the conviction behind it scares the hell out of me.

"But you fucked all of that away when you started seeing him. That stupid fucking hockey player." The hatred in his voice makes my blood turn cold.

"I told you to leave him. Didn't I?" His voice rises, his composure beginning to crack. "I told you what it did to me every time I saw you with him. I told you how much it fucking hurt watching him touch you, watching you kiss him, watching you parade around campus pretending you belonged to him when you are mine!" He snarls.

His nostrils flare.

"And you still didn't listen."

He points at me sharply.

"You never fucking listen."

I flinch despite myself.

"That's exactly what happened the first time!" he snaps. "I told you not to tell anyone about us. I warned you they wouldn't understand. I told you they would take you away from me if they found out, and what did you do?"

My pulse pounds harder.

"You told them. And they took you from me for fourteen fucking years."

His voice cracks on the last word.

For one horrifying moment, he almost looks devastated.

Then his eyes harden.

"I wasn't going to let that happen again. So when you ignored me..." Charlie says quietly, "when you kept seeing him after I told you to stop, I realized talking wasn't enough anymore. I had to teach you a lesson."

The room seems to tilt beneath my feet.

Charlie's gaze moves slowly over my face as if remembering that night.

"I had to make you understand that there are consequences when you keep hurting someone who loves you." His voice becomes almost gentle. "So yes, I hit you. Yes, I broke your ribs. And I hated doing it, kitten. I fucking hated hearing you cry."

My stomach lurches.

"But you needed to feel it."

He presses a hand against his chest.

"You needed to understand how badly you were hurting me."

Every nerve in my body screams at me to run.

Instead, I force myself to stay exactly where I am.

Because he's talking.

Because somewhere nearby, Detective Matthews is hearing every goddamn word.

Charlie reaches for me.

His fingers brush my cheek.