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She shakes her head and denies me, “No.”
Maybe it's memories of the past, of that awful night, of the feel of flames against my skin—maybe it's the fear of her walking out on me and leaving me to this existence that I've hated for years. Maybe it's the idea of her taking my heart with her when she goes, but I crack.
My shoulder finds her belly as I lift her off her feet and storm from the spare bedroom. I take the stairs two at a time as she pounds on my back. It doesn't take long before I'm throwing her onto my bed, her body bouncing before I pin her into place even as she wriggles to free herself from me.
And then my cute, sweet little Sadie curses, “Fuck you, Nick!”
Her anger just makes me grin, and I dip my head, my lips moving against the shell of her ear as I growl, “Baby.” Her body shivers under my dark rumble. “Let me tell you a little bedtime story.”
Her body tenses beneath mine and her eyes blink up at me as she waits, bated breath locked in her chest.
“It was three years ago, early December,” I start. “Patricia had my ring on her finger. We were set to get married the following summer. I thought she was the one. She was beautiful. She looked good on my arm. I was shallow and too young. I didn't know what love was. And I can tell you right now, I didn't love that woman. And she definitely didn't love me.”
“I would say she loved you.” She lifts her chin. “She's fighting for you now, isn't she?”
I laugh, but it's my turn to sound bitter. “She didn't love me, Sadie. And let me tell you how I know that.”
There's a fire in her eyes as she waits for my words, and God, but she's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. My hands are curled around her tiny wrists, pinning her to the bed. My legs are straddling her. She's challenging me with that raging fire in her eyes, but she's not fighting me.
She’s not fighting me because she wants this. She wants to hear what I have to say. So, I give it to her. “Patricia was never satisfied with the life I provided for her. I built this house before Patricia. This is my house. My place. What I want from my life. I own this land. I'll never give it up. Not ever. I definitely wouldn't have given it up for her. But she pushed and she pushed. She wanted a big house in town. No, she wanted to lord over the town. She wanted people to look up and see where she lived and all that she had. This house, in these trees, on this mountain, nobody fucking knows where I live. Nobody knows what my house looks like. And I like it like that.” I snarl the last words, pressing on. “We were driving home.Iwas driving us home, and she was bitching, like usual about wanting more. She wanted to move to town, and I was ignoring her. We'd had this conversation. She knew where I stood. I didn't see a point in talking about the same shit over and over again. I turned up the music and she flew into a rage. She hit my shoulder a few times, and then she grabbed the steering wheel. It was snowing and we hit a patch of ice. I couldn't control the car. We slammed into a guardrail, and then we went over. The car rolled a few times—more than a few times. I was in and out of consciousness. But I very clearly remember meeting her eyes and asking her to help me before she pulled herself free and climbed out. It took everything inside of me to hold on to consciousness. I slipped a few times—too many times.”
I pause, my eyes boring into her horrified ones. Then I give her more. “The last time I woke, I woke on her side of the car. My side was pinned against a tree. There was no getting out of my side and the car was on an angle. I had to climb up into her side. I had a broken shoulder and a concussion. A very serious concussion. The car was on fire then, and so was I.”
I hate this memory, and I pause because relaying it like this, reliving it like this, hurts. She seems to see it, and because Sadie is all about caring, she shakes her head. “I don't want to hear any more. I don't need to hear any more. You don't have to tell me. It's okay. It's okay.”
She's trying to console me, and I think I love her more for it.
I know I'm in love with this woman.
I'm past the point of in love with this woman. I would give my life for this woman.
But she needs to hear this.I need her to hear this.
“I ended up pulling myself out of the car, and thank God there was snow, because it put the fire out, but the damage had been done. I passed out again and have no memory of the rest until I woke up in the hospital, my skin ruined, my clothes melted to the flesh on my left side. There were surgeries I could do, and I spent a long time in the hospital, but I denied most of them. They would have taken a very long time without the assurance of a positive result, and I was in a bad place. I wanted to be alone. Patricia stayed for a while, but she never spoke about how she left me. It was only how she got out and she thought I was dead. She called the ambulance, but she didn't even try to help me from the wreck.” My voice is low and angry. “She knew when she looked back and her eyes met mine that I might not make it, and she left me. And then when I got out of the hospital and I got to go home, she left me again. This time because she couldn't spend her life looking at the thing I’d become.”
“Oh my god,” Sadie breathes, horror in her eyes.
“My mom knows that part. What she doesn't know—what no one else knows—is that Patricia left me there.”
“Nick…”
“But Mom knows she left me after. And that's enough to make Mom hate her. I know she's crazy, and I know she shouldn't be doing what she's doing, interfering like she is in our lives. But she loves me, and she watched me fall apart after that accident. She watched me decide that I wasn't worthy of love, of life, of a family after that accident. I know she's hurt you, and I'm not going to apologize for her. I'm not going to make excuses. These are just the facts, and you need to know them.”
A tear slides from her eye down her temple and I feel a burning need to kiss it away. That need intensifies as she breathes my name into the silence, and then her entire body starts to shake as more tears come. But when her eyes connect with mine, they're flashing with rageforme.
This woman loves me too.
I don't think about it, about asking for her permission or forgiveness as I dip my head and take her mouth. My hands still shackle her wrists to the bed, but when I drop my mouth to hers, she kisses me back. And that's all I need from her.
That's forgiveness.
Tomorrow, in the light of day, we'll figure out the rest.
ChapterThirty-Three
Sadie
After the catastrophe of our date night, I woke the next morning in Nick’s arms, his front pressed to my back, his arm wrapped around my waist, and Claus snuggled up in a little ball against my feet. I could feel his rumbling purr begin as soon as I moved and it didn’t take him long to stand, stretch, and strut up the bed for pets.
