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Finally, I said, “I fucked up.”
She didn’t respond immediately, and when she did, bitterness filled the air. “Yeah. You did. And not just this time. But I’m not interested in an apology.” A caustic laugh fell from her lips. “Not that you ever apologise. God forbid King should ever think anyone’s worthy of a sorry.”
I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to reply to her sour words. “You can leave this room, but I won’t allow you back out on the streets yet. Not until Romano is dealt with and I know you’ll be safe.”
Sitting up, she threw out, “You won’t allow it? Why do you think you have any say in my life anymore, King?”
I’d avoided meeting her eyes, but I turned and looked at her now. “I mightn’t have any say in your life, but this isn’t up for argument, Ivy. You will not be leaving this building. Understood?”
Her lips flattened as she stared at me with loathing. She didn’t answer my question, though. Just stared at me.
I jerked up off the bed and paced in front of it, attempting to sort through the shit I wanted to say. “Fuck, why can’t you see what I’m trying to do? That this is in your best interest?” That she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, bewildered me.
She shot off the bed, coming to me with fire in her eyes. They burned w
ith it. Getting in my face, she yelled, “Why can’t you see that you don’t always know what’s in other people’s best interests? You haven’t changed, King! Always laying down the law as you see it, not once stopping to consider that I might have a different vision for my life.” She slapped her palms on my chest and added, “Fuck you!”
My veins filled with fury, and I gripped her wrists. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do,” I thundered. “Not if you think I don’t stop and consider every-fucking-thing about those I care for.”
Her brows lifted. “Oh, so cheating on me was your way of considering everything, then? You’re full of bullshit.”
She tried to wiggle out of my grip, but I squeezed her wrists harder and pulled her to me. Our bodies, this close, was dangerous. The desire I’d always felt for her sparked to life, circling us, threatening to pull me under. Because that’s where I’d end up if I let it take over.
The weight of my past actions sat heavy on my shoulders. I’d carried it with me for too long, some days almost suffocating under the pressure. Knowing I’d fucked her up had fucked me up. I’d decided long ago to carry it and never tell her the truth. It was better she continued believing I was an asshole. Better she kept me from her life.
But her outburst, and the way she kept looking at me with so much hatred, tripped me up. I wasn’t sure I could stand that hatred for much longer. Not when Ivy was the person I’d loved the longest in my life.
I latched onto my own anger over this situation and used it to fuel my reaction. Glaring at her, I said, “I didn’t come here to get into it with you. That shit is in the past, so let’s move the fuck on and deal with important shit.”
Her eyes widened, and from the way her face morphed from angry to hurt back to angry, I knew we wouldn’t be moving the fuck on. Wild energy engulfed her, and she engaged in a full-out battle to disentangle herself from me. Shoving her hands against my chest and fighting me, she shouted, “That shit is important to me, you fucking asshole! That you would say that and think that, just shows me what a bastard you really are. Did you even really love me? Because I don’t think you did! I think I was just another pussy to you. Someone who warmed your bed and fucked you whenever you wanted.”
Her words tore me apart.
They ripped shreds of my soul from me. The soul I’d refused to acknowledge since I’d pushed her out of my life. But Ivy saying this shit to me? That caused my soul to rear its head and force its way back into view.
Fuck.
Motherfucking fuck.
I lost my calm.
I lost my fucking mind and allowed words out that should never have seen the light of day.
Letting her go, I roared, “I didn’t fucking cheat on you! I did that for your protection, too. Don’t you fucking get it, Ivy? I do everything for your fucking protection.” My voice darkened as hurt consumed me. “And never fucking say that I didn’t love you. I loved you more than any-fucking-one. You were never just someone to come home to and fuck. Hell, if that was the case, I would have left you when you kicked me out of your bed for months.” I moved closer to her again, ignoring the emotions blazing from her. Ignoring everything but my own needs now. I fucking needed to get this shit out there. “Anything you wanted, I would have given to you. Anything you needed, I found a way to get. And when I realised the last fucking thing you needed was me, I took matters into my own hands. I never once cheated on you. Not until that night, and even then it wasn’t real. I set it up to make you leave. To keep you safe from me. So don’t throw accusations at me that are as far from the fucking truth as you can get.”
She stared at me with shock and disbelief. Her chest pumped furiously while she tried to steady her breaths. “You lied to me?”
One simple question with only one truthful answer.
But that answer had so many layers to it.
Where did you start when years of love and hate and hurt all piled on top of each other? How did relationships ever survive that? I had no fucking clue because I’d never managed to keep a relationship from crumbling under all those layers.
I didn’t want to answer Ivy’s question. Not without being able to give her the full picture. But what was the point? We were done a long time ago. There was no going back, ever. So I simply nodded. “Yeah, I lied to you.”
Her silence hit me more than if she’d yelled and screamed at me. It always had. I didn’t know what to do with silence. Didn’t know how to engage with it. I did best with anger and violence. Come at me with either of those, and I’d find a way through it. But silence caused me to stumble and falter because it hurt like a motherfucker. My father had taught me that.
When she sat on the bed and turned away from me, her own hurt so deafening it blocked out everything else, I was done. I’d already said too much and didn’t want to continue falling down the fucking abyss of our past. Exhaling hard, I said forcefully, “Don’t try to leave the clubhouse, because you won’t like the response.”
