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No goodbyes.
The broken look in her eyes that she tried to hide. The soft feel of her fingertips skimming over my skin. The scent of roses and sugar and sex filled the small treehouse as I pulled back and forced myself to make good on my promise.
A promise I wanted to break so bad, but I couldn’t.
Because I didn’t want to be the reason for any more of her pain than I already was.
No goodbyes.
I hated her for it, though. I hated her for making me do this, for making me walk away.
Is she though?a little voice at the back of my head taunts me.Is she making you walk away, or are you choosing to do it yourself?
Grabbing the doorknob, I twist it open and enter the quiet house. It’s early—or late, depending on how you look at it—and the place is clouded in darkness as I walk down the hallway.
No goodbyes.
My fingers clench into fists by my sides as I power toward the stairs.
Go. I need to go. To pack my shit and get the h—
I suck in a sharp breath as I bump into something. No, not something, a freaking side table that’s been standing in the hallway since I can remember. I bite my tongue, trying to hold back from muttering the curses and waking up half the house, but it’s hard when all I can focus on is the blinding pain shooting through my leg.
“Fucking shit…”
I press my hand against my hip, where I connected with the edge of the table. There is buzzing in my ears that matches the pulsing feeling spreading through my leg.
Holy shit, that hurts.
I’m so focused on the pain that it takes me a while to notice the shadow falling over me, and the sound of a gun cocking breaks through the buzzing in my ears.
The hair at my nape stands on end as I look up to find no one other than my father standing in the doorway of the living room, a shotgun in his hand.
His bushy brows connect over his forehead. “What the hell are you doing, Miguel?” he grits out as he glares at me.
“Me?” I hiss, my gaze still on the stupid gun. I knew he had one. Hell, he was the one who taught Aaron and me how to shoot when we were teens, but the last thing I expected was for him to pull the damn thing on me. “What the hell areyoudoing with a freaking gun in your hand? Are you crazy? You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“I gaveyoua heart attack? I thought somebody was trying to break in!” He slaps the barrel of the gun over his palm.
“Why would anybody bother? You leave the door unlocked all the damn time! Besides, you live in the middle of fucking nowhere.” I glare at the gun. “Can you put that away, please?”
His eyes narrow at me. “Fine.” Turning on the balls of his feet, he slowly makes his way back into the living room.
Letting out a long sigh, I follow after him. I didn’t know if I actually scared him, but the last thing I wanted was for him to have another heart attack.
“What are you even doing up so late?”
He looks over his shoulder, those sharp eyes sending daggers my way. “Considering dawn is breaking, I’d say it’s early.”
“Same difference.”
Dad makes his way to the China cabinet and puts the gun inside the safe, closing the door before he straightens to his full height with a groan and turns to find me watching him.
“What?”
“Seriously? A China cabinet?”
“It’s handy.” He waves me off. “What’s up with you?”
