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My screams have stirred a crowd, who all just stand around, watching and enjoying the show. “Call the police!” I yell, yanking on Saxon’s raised arm, trying to stop his next strike. But he shakes me off, crazed. The force sends me flying, and my ass hits the gravel with a thud.
The pained grunt which leaves me seems to snap Saxon from his violence, and he turns, mid strike, his eyes widening when he sees me sprawled on the ground, tears welling. “Oh god…” he gasps, peering back and forth between me and the unconscious, bloody man beneath him. “What have I done?”
Scrubbing the blood from his hands, he scrambles toward me, and instinctively, I shrink backward. He’s wild-eyed, and at this moment, he scares me. A blanket of sorrow falls over him, and he raises his hands in surrender.
“I’m sorry. I won’t hurt you. You know that.” He’s kneeling, pleading with me, his features contorted in utter anguish. “Lucy…”
The whirlwind of events smashes into me, and I bring my knees toward my chest, hugging them tight. I just need a minute to catch my breath.
Flashes of my childhood, of being whipped unconscious flicker brightly, and I whimper. My scars begin to itch. “Are you all right?” asks a gentle voice. I don’t even have the strength to look up.
“Yes,” I mumble, my cheek pressed to my knee. The past is the past. Leave it where it belongs. “Was this man bothering you?”
“I’m her fucking boyfriend!” Saxon spits, but his voice sounds miles away.
My heart is still racing, the adrenaline still whooshing through my veins, but once I’ve calmed, I turn my cheek to look at Saxon. He’s still on his knees, begging I forgive him. The look breaks my heart. “Sam told me he overheard you on the phone with Sophia,” I whisper, continuing from where we left off. I need to make sense of what just happened.
Saxon’s demeanor instantly changes, and he swoops forward, both fingers clutching my upper arms. “It’s not like that,” he quickly says, his desperation beseeching I believe him. “I did what you asked. I explained everything. You said I owed her that, and you were right. Nothing else happened.”
“I know that,” I affirm, gently rubbing over his death grip on my bicep.
“You do?” I nod. “How?”
With ease, I tenderly remove his trembling fingers from my arms because he’s hurting me. What’s left in their wake are smears of blood. “Because I trust you. Just how you should trust me.” I was stupid for thinking, even for a fraction of a second, that Saxon was with Sophia that way. I know him. I know he loves me.
He works his lip, tonguing over his scar. “Why didn’t you call me? I was waiting. For hours.”
“Because I figured you and Sophia had unfinished business, and I didn’t want to interrupt. Why didn’t you call me?”
He sighs heavily. “Same reason. I thought I’d have a couple of drinks and wait for you to call. I came here because I know how much fun you had last time. I waited and waited, and when you didn’t call…I started to think the worst. Hence, why I thought getting wasted was a good idea at the time.”
We were both giving the other space, but it appears we didn’t know how much space to give. Let this be a lesson learned.
“Saxon…” I pause, needing him to believe me because I don’t think I have the strength to relive tonight. “I loveyou. I chooseyou. But if we’re going to make this work, then you have to trust me. I know this entire situation is completely fucked up, but I’m doing it so we can move on. Together. I should have called you. I’m sorry. I’m also sorry for thinking you were here with Sophia.” I don’t see the point in hiding my original thought.
He screws up his nose. “With Sophia? Why would I be here with her?” My silence explains my suspicions. “Lucy… god, no.” He shakes his head animatedly, pressing both palms against my cheeks. “I would never touch her.”
“I know that now. But for a moment there, I thought that maybe…”
“Baby, what?” His term of endearment warms my heart.
“That maybe you thought I wasn’t worth the hassle.” Now that no one else is drawing blood, the crowd disperses and leaves us be.
His pain is visible, painted all over his skin. But I know it’s the wounds within, the ghosts of his past which hurt him the most. With the slowest of movements, he sweeps me onto his lap so I’m straddling him. “Don’t you ever,everthink that. I’m the one who isn’t worth shit. You’re good, Lucy. So good. I know why you’re doing this with Sam. I’m just…scared.”
“Scared?” He nods. “Of what?”
Tears begin to form, and each one stabs at my very core. “Of losing you. I’m scared you’ll wake up one day and question your choice. You loved Sam, and I know a small part of you always will. You have history. I can’t compete with that.”
“Saxon… no.Wehave history too.” I thread my fingers through his hair, drawing us nose to nose. “You will never lose me. I belong to you. I always have. Being with you makes me so…happy. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.Youare my soul mate. You always have been. I don’t want to fight anymore. I just want this to be over. And to do that…”
He places his finger to my lips, nodding. “I know. Just please…don’t leave me.” When a tear rolls down his cheek, it’s my undoing, and I sob, throwing my arms around his neck.
His confession reflects what he’s experienced—the deep sorrow he’s felt his entire life. His family deserted him. His brother lied, betraying him in unforgivable ways. It would make sense for him to think I would eventually do the same. But I’m not like anyone else. I know what it’s like to reach rock bottom. I’ve lived it. And I would never do that to him. Now or ever.
“I won’t leave you,” I promise between my tears. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” He buries his face in the crook of my neck, hugging me tighter than he ever has before.
They say real men don’t cry—well, whoever said that could take a flying leap. This right here is beautiful, and honest, and cathartic.
