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“I-.” He started, but I cut him off.
“How are you here right now?”
“I got out.”
“How? You were sentenced to life without parole.” My eyes burned with the unshed tears that were trying to fall at the memory of how it felt to hear the judge say those words and how conflicted my teenage self was in that moment.
He swallowed and my eyes fell to watch the way the muscles in his neck worked. Memories of how the skin right above his jugular tasted assaulted me and I forced myself to step back.
“I was cleared.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” I groaned, “You pled guilty.” I pushed my hair back with my arm. “You sat there, and you said the word guilty. I read your statement. Word for word, describing what you did.”
“I know.” He clenched his jaw. “Give me a chance to explain everything to you.”
“No.” I shook my head and stepped back again, “I can’t-.”
“Don’t.” He said, wrapping his hand around my wrist and pulling me forward, erasing the two steps away that I took. “Please, don’t walk away from me again.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “It almost killed me to watch you walk away from me that last day in the courthouse not knowing if I’d ever see you again. Please don’t do it again.”
I hated how conflicted he always made me feel.
Since the day I met Fox when I was eighteen, I knew I shouldn’t feel anything remotely gentle toward the dangerous man. Yet he was the only one to ever show me true kindness outside of my family. He was tender with me; always.
But I knew he wasn’t gentle with anyone else.
That was how my brother ended up in a grave next to my mother.
“No.” I frowned down at him. “Don’t you dare blame me for that.”
“Give me a chance to explain, D.” His face was so close to mine, the urge to lean forward, melt into his touch and kiss him with five years of pent-up heartache nearly consumed me.
But then I remembered the way that heartache felt five years ago.
I couldn’t go backwards.
Not with Fox.
“Alright, let’s get you stitched up and on your way Mr. St. Claire.” Oliver interrupted from the doorway, pulling the curtain closed behind him.
I stepped back and gave the space to the doctor to do his job. “Bye Fox.” I whispered and threw my gloves in the trash on my way back out.
I didn’t care that Oliver liked to have a nurse by his side during suturing to hand him his tools.
I didn’t care that for any other patient I’d stand there and offer to hold their hand as a needle pierced their skin repeatedly.
I didn’t care that my ethics were being bent because of how much pain Fox had inflicted on me in the past.
I just needed to get away.
“You’re up.” I ordered Winnie as I took her charts off her desk and threw them down on mine. “He was your patient to begin with.”
She watched me and then got out of her chair. “Fine, but you’re telling me all the nitty gritty details about the obvious sexual tension burning between you two when I’m done.”
“Not on your life.” I whispered as she walked away.
Chapter 7 – Delilah
Past
