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My fault. I shouldn’t be the one here.
Darkness is crowding my vision. I feel as if I’m looking at myself from a distance. Dizziness hits me and I brace my hands on the wall. I bend my head, ignoring the howl that’s building in my chest, and press my hot forehead to the cold surface. It’s moments like this I think of the pills I’ve managed to stop taking, the addiction I thought I’d shaken off.
Oh God. I’m shaking, my teeth chattering. This sucks.
Through the deafening pounding of my pulse in my ears, I hear the door creak, and I think it’s my imagination, the ghosts haunting me, toying with me.
“There you are,” a soft voice says. Megan’s voice. “Crap, it’s cold in here.”
I turn my head to the side to see her, and I just stare, my voice gone, my thoughts derailed like every time. My brain is one fucking big blank.
Forgetting the world again, the reality of my past and my role in it. I stare stupidly at her smoking hot body, her dusky nipples, then look up into her dark eyes and my hard-on is back with a vengeance. Can’t help it, she’s so fucking perfect, her bronzed skin, her rich curves, her delicate features and that shiny black hair…
My dick twitches and a spasm of pleasure goes through me. It’s been so long, and she’s so damn sexy. I might come just from looking at her.
“Rafe.” She reaches for me, tugs on my arm until I push off the wall and turn toward her. “Are you okay?”
I swallow hard, my throat so dry it clicks. “I’m fine. Gimme a minute. I’ll get ready and we can go—”
“I don’t care about that—dinner and drinks,” she says, reaching for me. “You don’t look so good. What happened?”
Damn. I want to kiss her, cover that beautiful mouth with mine, stop the words. But I’m not fast enough, still kinda dizzy and out of it.
“You said it was your fault,” she says. “That’s not true. That’s not what happened. Zane told me. It had nothing to do with you.”
Shit. “I don’t wanna talk about this. Just gimme a minute, okay?”
She shakes her dark head. “It was murder,” she whispers. “You were just a kid. Nothing about it can be your fault. You’re a good guy.”
My heart jackhammers in my chest. Ow. I can’t escape her words, or the memories they carry. Everyone else tiptoes around this topic, never mentioning it—well, apart from Zane, but Zane is a bastard sometimes. Her eyes are full of innocence as she talks, as she pushes the knife in my chest and twists.
“You don’t understand,” I whisper.
“Then explain.”
“I opened the door.” I opened the fucking door. “The bell rang, and I didn’t check first, like I was supposed to do. I’d gotten a new cell and I was so fucking engrossed in it I didn’t do my job.” Goddammit, why the hell am I telling her this? The pounding in my ears returns, louder. “I don’t deserve to be here.”
“Rafe…” She lifts a hand to my face, and I flinch real hard.
“No.” I turn away from her, stumble to the sink and brace my hands on it. There’s more. So much more she doesn’t know, and I can’t tell her. How a knife stopped me, how I watched my sister die and was unable to do a single thing. “I should have stopped him. Should have saved them.”
“You were only fifteen. Just a boy. Nothing you could have done.”
“Leave it be, Meg. Just stop.”
“You couldn’t have known they’d come to kill your family.” She’s approaching me, her voice now so close she has to be right behind me. “It was a random murder.”
“I said stop!” I twist around and grab her shoulders, walk her backward until her back hits the other wall. I shake her lightly, do my best to control my spasming muscles. “Just fucking stop talking.”
Her dark eyes are round, clouded by shock, and I groan, my jaw clenched so hard my teeth are grinding together. I force my hands open, let them slide down the silky skin of her arms.
Goddammit. Shivers rack me, and I try to remember my breathing exercises. Haven’t needed them in a long time. Once they were all that got me through the day. In and out. In and out.
Her dark lashes lift and she looks up at me. A soft smile lifts the corners of her pretty mouth.
“Told you that you’re not a violent man,” she whispers and slides her hands up my neck and tangles her fingers in my short hair.
Fucking kills me that she trusts me not to hurt her, even after witnessing this. This breakdown. This loss of control. This goddamn walking disaster that I am.
