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Out of desperation, I step toward her and grab her arm, momentarily forgetting Blakely’s investment in martial arts.
Reflexes sharp, she spins out of my reach and removes her hands from her pockets, clutching some object. “I’m not leaving here until you tell me the truth about what you’ve done to me, and how you’re going to fix it.”
I wipe my hand over my mouth. “I told you, there is no way to reverse the treatment,” I tell her honestly. “Once new neural pathways are created, they can’t be closed. They’re not a light switch I can toggle on and off. Not without permanent, necrotic damage to the cells.”
In other words, death.
“What you underwent,” I say, wishing I could translate numeric equations into words, “was extreme, for lack of a better explanation. Any further—”
“I understand,” she cuts me off. She stares past me into the mirror, a faraway look slipping over her face. When she directs her attention my way, I glimpse an echo of her former self. “All I want is my life back, you insane shit. I wantmyselfback. If you can’t give me that, then we’re done, Alex. It’s over.”
I see her muscles tense as she closes the distance. I see her right shoulder drop. I make a split-second decision not to block her attack and let Blakely punch my face.
The impact jars me for a suspended moment, delaying my reaction time. My jaw takes the brunt of the strike, whatever solid object she’s holding distributing the impact without give.
She goes to deliver another punch, like she’s compulsively practiced on that punching bag, and I capture her arm and shoulder in an arm-lock to restrain her movements. We grapple like this, her wriggling to loosen my hold, me refusing to take her down, until she forces me to sweep her leg. I catch her around her lower back before she hits the floor.
“Your emotions are hindering your decision making,” I say.
“No fucking shit.” She jabs my ribs. On reflex, I release her.
She lands on her ass, but recovers quickly, rolling onto her hip. She swipes her foot out and takes me down beside her.
A laugh bursts free. “You’ve gotten good with your training.”
She groans as she gets to her knees. “I knew you were watching me, you sick—”
“Watchingoveryou,” I tell her, turning onto my side and raising my hands in time to block her fist. Her jab stings the hell out of my palm, and I circle her wrist, squeezing hard to make her open her hand.
A roll of nickels clatters to the tiled floor. “You’re going to break your fingers. And I like your fingers.”
She tries to jerk out of my hold, but I won’t release her. “It was supposed to break your face.”
I catch her other hand as it comes toward my stomach. I meet her sea-green eyes brewing with a storm. “And after you’re done beating the hell out of me, what are you going to do? Where are you going to go? You need me, Blakely.”
She narrows her gaze, rage brimming around the edges. “If you can’t fix me, then there’s absolutely nothing I need from you. Let me go.”
“Never,” I say. “I’m never letting you go again.”
I might have been able to leave her once before. I could’ve even forced myself to stay away. But touching her now, breathing the same air as her, feeling her heart pound against my chest…
This is over for me.
I’d let Grayson eviscerate me with a dull butterknife if it meant keeping Blakely forever.
I give her the chance to make good on her threat and drop her wrists. She holds my gaze a second before she raises her arm and sends her elbow toward my nose. Since I can’t have a broken nose added to my list of ailments to slow me down, I catch her fist and twist her arm downward, pinning her forearm behind her back and forcing her chest against mine.
Before she can strike with her left, I lock my hand around her arm and pin it to her thigh.
I look down into her face, wondering just how far her anger extends, if she’s willing to sacrifice injuring herself to hurt me. One headbutt would free her.
“I don’t mind doing this all night,” I say, unable to suppress a smile. “But we do have urgent matters to discuss. Just let me know when you’ve had enough.”
“Fuck you.”
My dick jumps at the thought. I groan, so damn tempted.
A shot of anger ignites her eyes, and she cranes her head back.
