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“You’re staying with me. End of fucking story,” he said, something like anger flickering behind his eyes. The passionate temper he hadn’t shown me in all the weeks of my recovery simmered beneath the surface, ready to be unleashed if I gave him so much as a moment of resistance to the plan he seemed to think was guaranteed.
“It is not the end of the story. It isn’t even the goddamn beginning! I didn’t agree to this,” I argued, watching as his lips tipped into something like a smile.
“There she is,” he murmured, reaching up to cup the back of my neck with his hand. He dragged me forward, brushing his lips over the corner of my mouth while I pushed at his chest. “I knew you were in there somewhere, cuore mio.”
“That’s it? This was just some twisted test to get me to fight with you?” I asked, my fingers curling into the fabric of the shirt covering his chest.
“Oh no. You really are moving in permanently.” He huffed a laugh, dropping his hands to rest on the bare skin of my thighs. I flinched, pushing past the sensation that made me close my eyes to take a deep breath.
“And what about what I want? Does that not matter to you?” I asked.
“What you want stopped mattering the moment I pulled you off that fucking railing,” he said, his voice laced with cruelty. “It stopped the moment you tried to leave me here alone.”
“So I’m supposed to just do what you say because you decided you care all of a sudden? You’re just going to leave again. You always do,” I said, watching as the blow landed. He flinched, looking away from the tears building in my eyes.
I couldn’t be bothered to care if it hurt him. He needed to remember all the times he’d walked away.
All the times he’d chosen anything but me.
“I know I hurt you. I wish I hadn’t. You will never understand how desperately I wish things were different, that I was different with you. But I am not going anywhere, Butterfly. The thought of my life without you in it…” He trailed off, his face tightening with something sad as his eyes came back to mine. “I will spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of you.”
“Worthy of me?” I scoffed, my lips twisting into a bitter smile. “I’m a disaster. Nobody deserves me.” There was no mistaking the intent of my words, that I was too broken to love, but Scar smiled up at me softly and chose to ignore it.
“You’re right. Nobody in this world deserves to own your heart, but you gave it to me when you told me you loved me. I’m not giving it back.”
I blanched, wishing I could take back the words I’d said. At the time, I’d wanted him to know. Wanted to leave him with what I hadn’t been brave enough to say in the chaos of our non-relationship.
But I’d never intended to be around to deal with the consequences. To not hear them back after they’d been acknowledged was a cruel punishment in itself.
There were some hurts that were worse than the pain that could be inflicted on our bodies. The way Scar repeatedly ripped out my heart and stomped on it was somehow worse, because he never intended to hurt me.
He just did.
The knock on the door of Scar’s living area outside the bedroom saved me from having to respond, pulling a relieved sigh from my lungs. Scar growled, his fingers tightening on my thighs for a moment before he shifted me to the side and stood. “This conversation isn’t over,” he warned, pointing a finger in my direction as he tugged open the bedroom door.
He disappeared into the living room, a tormented groan following the sound of Sadie’s voice as she charged into his space.
Rebel bounded through the living room, shoving open the cracked bedroom door to jump onto the bed and assault me with dog licks. “Rebel, get off my bed!” Scar yelled, charging after the dog that refused to listen to him.
She covered my face with affectionate kisses as Sadie set a pile of clothing on the bed. “Get up, lazy bones,” she teased, the genuine affection in her words outweighing any ridiculousness that might have come from another woman’s judgement. “Enzo told me what you did with that fire poker, and you and I need to have a chat about more creative places to shove it the next time.”
“Sadie,” Scar warned, stepping into the room and hanging his head. “She needs to rest.”
“All she’s done is rest,” Sadie argued, putting her hands on her hips and turning to glare at the man who most women would have found intimidating. “She needs to get up and be reminded who the fuck she is. Irina certainly isn’t going to find her inner bad bitch again lying in bed and letting you be her manservant.”
“I’m not that woman anymore,” I said, curling my arms around my stomach.
“You’re right,” Sadie said, not bothering to sugarcoat the truth. “Now you’re all that and more.” There was a faint wetness of tears in her eyes as she held out a hand for me, waiting for me to accept it. Waiting for me to willingly pull myself out of the bed and take the first steps toward recovery.
I did, using her hand to pull myself up to a sitting position. She grabbed the hem of my shirt, tearing it over my head and not seeming to care that it left me naked with both her and Scar in the room. She ignored Scar’s growl, helping me slip a bra on and one of the shirts she must have grabbed from my apartment.
A pair of underwear and yoga pants followed, already making me feel more human with my own clothing on.
“She’s not ready for this,” Scar argued, blocking the door as Sadie rested my arm around her shoulders and took some of the weight off my leg with the brace.
“She and I have shit to talk about. Enzo and Ryker are waiting for you downstairs. You gonna help her down before you go or what, big man?” Sadie asked, drawing a chuckle from my lips.
He came to me, cupping my cheeks in his grip and peering down at me intently. “You don’t have to do this,” he said.
His aversion to it only made me want to do it more, to defy him in whatever way I could when he’d taken all choice away from me.
That needed unpacking later.
“I want to go,” I said. He sighed, studying my face for a moment. Whatever he saw there must have convinced him that this was what I needed in the moment. I squealed when he lifted me into his arms and carried me out the door. Rebel raced past, darting down the stairs as my own personal manservant brought me down them.
It was a small win, but I’d take it all the same.
