I sighed. Relentless, and missing the point. Why couldn’t he leave me alone? Hell, I should have stayed in the Safehouse. He definitely wouldn’t have bothered me there. I could have shut down my riotous emotions, turned off the feelings that bloomed in my stomach whenever he was near. Tarik was pain—and trouble—waiting to happen. And if I had stayed behind, I could have started to repair the damage he had already caused.
Instead of saying any of that, though, I said, “I love the children, but I can’t sit and wait for you all to take care of my family problems.” I snorted at the thought of Mordecai and Alec actually being my family, but pressed on. “Even Nevaeh has things to do. I’m dead weight. So I found a way to help. But I mean, you’re right. At least she’s spoken to me. Busy or not.”
Behind me, he sighed—or huffed. I couldn’t tell. “Let Rebel Leader deal with your family. That’s what we’ve been working so tirelessly on. If you need something to do, ask and we’ll put you to work. Somewhere safe.” He paused, and I thought he was done, then, “I wanted to talk to you, but . . . I can’t.”
I froze, hung up on his emphasis of the word safe. That was the problem, though. Safe didn’t fix problems. I didn’t want to be safe if that meant hiding away, locked in a cage. I shivered, carefully considering my words. Replaying his vague excuse. Finally, I shook my head in frustration. “Nah. Not today, Tarik. I’m not playing this game with you anymore.”
I slipped over the last little gap to safety and slid inside, slamming the door behind me. My heart thundered in my ears, my breathing uneven. I couldn’t keep riding his emotional teeter totter. If I caved today, the back and forth would never end.
The door whooshed open and in stormed a scowling Tarik. He marched up, glaring down his nose at me. “Did you seriously slam the door in my face? What game are you playing at? Because I’m supposed to be the one with the nasty temper, not you.”
“I don’t play games, Tarik. That’s why this stupid little back and forth we do? I’m done playing.”
Shock morphed his expression and he took a step back. “What?”
“This thing we have going on”—I gestured between us, ignoring the burn behind my eyes—“is harmful and unhealthy. I’m done. With it. With you. Done.”
He straightened, shoulders stiffening. For several seconds he simply blinked as if dazed, then slowly said, “I don’t—There’s nothing going on, Reagan.”
“I—” My voice caught and, unbidden, tears slipped free. I furiously wiped them away and clenched my jaw.
After a moment, words spilled from me, angry and raw. “You heard me. I can’t do this. I can’t have you ignore me for days at a time because you don’t know what you want from me. I can’t have you showing up in my life when the timing is convenient, or when you think you can save me. And to what end? Because it suits your fancy? Or because you’re worried, whatever that means to you. You pull me close and push me away in the same breath, and here we are again. You’ve shoved me away for a week, but the second, the second I do something you don’t like, here you are, trying to keep a leash on me when the rest of the time you don’t even seem to want me around.”
I balled my hands into fists—angry at him, angry that I couldn’t stop crying, angry that more words escaped my lips before I could stop them. “I care about you, Tarik. Like really care, in a way that makes my knees weak and my stomach flutter and my chest tighten.”
Choking in a breath, I said, “But I don’t let people into my life, because they do this. This back and forth. People take and take, and I’m so tired. I don’t have enough pieces left to give if I want to keep standing. My life is too complicated right now as it is. I can’t do this with you anymore.”
Planning to squeeze past him, I took a step forward, only for my traitorous mouth to open one last time. For the words I had been holding in to spill out, for everything—every emotion, every heartache—to be laid at his feet. “You kissed me—kissed me like I was nothing. And all the while, I can’t stop thinking about you. All day, every day, all the time. All I’ve really wanted this week was for you to be there, even once, to talk so I’d know what you’re thinking. How you feel . . . if you’re safe. I’m driving myself crazy. But you don’t seem to care. So you heard me. I’m done.”
My jaw clenched as I shoved past him, opening the door and slipping into the city again. I didn’t care if I was caught. I was pretty sure that baring my soul to Tarik hurt me more than Mordecai or death ever could.
Maybe Mordecai was right.
Maybe love is pain.
I didn’t go after her.
I couldn’t. My intestines were on the floor. At least, I was fairly sure they were. Her words had ripped me open, leaving a gaping hole behind. And an ache unlike any I’d ever felt before. I had screwed up. I had screwed up bad. I hadn’t realized she’d started to reciprocate my growing feelings toward her. The feelings I trampled again and again in hopes that they’d eventually disintegrate.
And now I’d trampled her.
A hand squeezed my heart and I embraced the pain. Let myself feel every bit of that piercing agony, because I deserved to. I deserved to rot in hell for what I had done to her.
For a split second, relief swamped me, relief that she felt as I felt. But the feeling was savagely replaced with shame. And guilt. I didn’t deserve her.
She’s not your girl.
“I know,” I muttered. I knew what I wanted—I knew with a fiery passion—but I couldn’t have it. I couldn’t have her.
Destruction followed me wherever I went. She didn’t deserve that. I would never be good enough for someone like her. So kind and giving. So innocent.
She had wanted something from me. Me, the screw-up with a short fuse. In a world surrounded by men whose only goals were to use her, she needed someone who would give instead of take. Who would give her their heart. Gaia, she wanted my heart.
But I couldn’t give her something I didn’t have.
She’s not your girl.
“I know!” I roared and punched the door frame, pain jolting up my arm.
“After what that girl said, are you really going to let her walk away?”
I whirled, blinking as Rebel Leader strolled toward me, hands in his pockets. I still couldn’t believe I was under the same roof as him again. And in one piece. I had expected at least one of his sons to take a shot at me for all the terrible things I said after I’d left. His name wasn’t actually Rebel Leader—we only called him that to protect his identity on the rare occasions he left the Safehouse. I avoided speaking his real name either way. It made the distance I’d created between us over the years more bearable.
I inhaled through the pain consuming my chest, saying, “You heard all that?”
He nodded and pulled his hands free as he sunk onto the stairs, placing elbows on bent knees. “You two were pretty loud.” He chuckled, patting the stair next to him. An invitation to talk. Something I had planned to avoid until my dead corpse turned to dust. “Come on, Tarik. I can’t stand seeing you like this anymore.”
My lips pinched together. There was no way I’d share my problems with him. No way—
“Like what?” I clenched my teeth. Stupid, idiot mouth.
“Like a mountain crushed you, yet you still found a way to shoulder the weight. Like you think you deserve to carry that burden for the rest of eternity. Your penance.”
I couldn’t endure his all-knowing gaze a moment longer. I stared at his bare feet. “I do deserve it.”
“Why?”
I blew out a frustrated sigh, glaring up at him. “You know why.”
His expression clouded, eyes growing distant. “So that’s what this is about,” he whispered. For a moment, he looked lost. Then his face cleared. “After all these years, you haven’t forgiven yourself.”
The statement was so abrupt, so certain, that I sputtered, “Wh-what?”
“You haven’t forgiven yourself for that night—the night they took Leilani from us.”
; At the mention of her name, I flinched, hunching under the weight it pressed down on me. Anger bubbled beneath my skin. Anger that he would so casually dredge up her memory. My eyes narrowed to slits. “Would you?” I snapped. “Would you forgive yourself for not being there when she needed you most? For letting her suffer under the hands of those foul, disgusting beasts while you stood there and watched it happen?”
My voice had risen to a shout, arms shaking with rage. But his expression was the exact opposite of mine. Sad.
“Tarik,” he said softly. “You didn’t stand there. You fought to save her with everything you had and were barely alive when we found you—we didn’t even recognize you. But for days and weeks afterward, you didn’t let anyone tend your wounds because of the guilt. And when you look at your scars, evidence of the injustice you yourself faced, you see them as failure. Your burden and shame to endure forever.”
He stood then, and my heart pumped so hard a wave of nausea swept over me. Slowly approaching, as if knowing I was about to disappear like I’d done three years ago and every day since, he continued. “But none of that is true. You don’t have to carry the burden of her death anymore. Let go, Tarik, or you will never leave this hell on earth you’ve created for yourself.”
Carefully, he reached out and clasped my shoulder, that soulful gaze seeing into the very heart of me. My eyes burned when his filled with unchecked tears. My voice shook, but the words needed to be said. “She’d be alive if not for me. If I’d come home on time, she wouldn’t have worried and gone out looking. I—I killed your daughter.”
“No,” he said firmly, even as tears tracked down his cheeks. “No one could have stopped that. Sometimes evil wins the day. Sometimes—” He stopped, dragging in air. “She wouldn’t want you to suffer this way. She’d want you to live. She’d want you to chase after that girl you let slip through the door because, Tarik, she’d want you to be happy.”
My tears finally spilled. They fell in droves and I couldn’t stop them.
Leilani’s father drew me into his embrace and I stopped fighting. I allowed the tears to soothe the rage heating my blood, a balm to the guilt and shame I had inflicted on myself. The pain was still there, the ache of losing someone too soon, but the torture I’d put myself through . . . washed away.
“I did fail you in one huge way, Tarik,” he said, voice muffled where his mouth rested on my shoulder. “I never told you that I’d forgiven you. That I never blamed you. When you left, I thought you needed space to cope with the pain. I’m sorry, my son. I’m sorry you carried this burden on your own.”
We stayed that way for several minutes, soaking in the silence. Healing. My mouth opened, then closed. Opened again. “Thank you, Liam.”
He chuckled and I frowned, pulling back. His eyes were ringed in red, but . . . lighter as he said, “I haven’t heard you say that in three long years.”
I huffed a weak laugh, dragging a sleeve across my face. “What, ‘thank you’ or your name?”
“Both.” He laughed. I joined him, at first ashamed that I was laughing so soon after remembering Leilani. But I set the feeling aside and allowed myself to feel something new: peace. I took a breath, filling my lungs to capacity. The air tasted different. Sweet. Clean.
He clapped my shoulder again and gave me a shake. “Now, enough of the past. I’m not going to stand by and watch you ruin your future. And that’s exactly what you’ll be doing if you don’t exit through that door in the next few seconds.”
My heart rate picked up. Reagan. “But—”
His hands gripped both my shoulders now, squeezing. “Don’t make me look like a fool, boy. I placed a sizable bet on you two getting together, and I will not lose.”
I choked on a laugh. “Bet? With what? It’s not like you have any money.”
“Chores,” he growled. “I have to clean the dishes and scrub the toilets for three months if I lose.”
Gross.
“You’re cracked, old man.”
“I’m going to crack your idiot skull wide open if you don’t get out of here in five seconds. Now go!” He shoved, sending me staggering back.
I shook my head, walking backward. “Have you been working out, pops?”
“Three seconds!”
Smirking, I yanked the door open and bolted into the dusky evening, my heart filled to bursting. Just as quickly, I jerked to a stop, heart sinking. Reagan. I had no idea where to find her. She could be anywhere. Searching the immediate surroundings, I spied her friend, Nevaeh, lounging on a stairwell as she smoked.
She pointed north. “She went to the old ruins. Look for a collapsed building that has a three-headed mermaid painted on the side.” As I stepped in that direction, she added, “Oh, and Tarik? If you break her heart, I know where you sleep.”
I thanked her, then took off at a jog, betting she would follow through with that threat. How did she know who I’d been looking for? Was I that obvious? Maybe to everyone but Reagan, that is. I stuck to the growing shadows, keeping both ears open for the boom of dragon wings. The last thing I wanted right now was an Alec confrontation. Without Reagan holding me back, I didn’t know if I could restrain myself from killing him. Or maybe I’d settle for tearing off his—
All thoughts switched off as I caught sight of her. She was tucked into a dark corner shielded by the partially collapsed floor above, perched on a heap of filthy rubble, her body curled into a ball. My chest tightened to the point of pain. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t do this. Straightening, I forced my legs to carry me toward her, up and over debris, around potholes. I halted a few yards away, unable to close the gap.
She must have heard my approach. I didn’t want to spook her, so I’d been extra loud. But she didn’t lift her head from her raised knees.
My pulse hammered in my throat as I struggled with what to say. How could I undo all the damage I had caused? She probably hated me now. I would hate me now. I would have kicked myself in the balls, if that were possible.
I took a tentative step forward and her shoulders stiffened. I froze. Would she run? Would she flee this city and never come back? At the thought, pain lanced my stomach and I gasped for air. No, she couldn’t leave. She had grown on me. Had burrowed beneath my skin. When she smiled, warmth bloomed inside me. When she laughed, I burst alive.
She needed to stay.
I needed her to stay.
Because I—
“I need her,” I whispered. A sigh shuddered through me. Admitting that out loud gave me the courage I normally lacked. The strength to take a step, then another, until I was carefully lowering myself beside her. And now the hard part. The part I had failed at again and again.
The bravery to be vulnerable.
To bare my scarred and bleeding soul.
“She died three years ago,” I started softly, haltingly. A decided tremble shook my voice, but I wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t. “Right before she died, I found her. She was . . . she was naked. And alone. No one to save her from the pack of shifters intent on—”
The image flashed before me and I jerked, unable to breathe. Somehow, past a closed throat, I forced the words out anyway. “The shifters overwhelmed me, too. Made me watch as—as they brutalized her. Raped her. And then, when it was over, they beat me to within an inch of my life. Shredded my wings with their talons, leaving me naked and broken in that accursed alley outside The Pit. I’m sure they thought I’d die, too.”
Reagan stirred next to me, but didn’t speak. I was relieved that she didn’t—I might not be able to finish otherwise. Plowing shaky hands through my hair, I continued. “But I didn’t die, even though for three years I wished that I had. When you found me in the alley that night, bloodied and beaten, I thought that would be the end. I wanted it to be, but . . .”
My breath hitched. “But you saved me. And then, despite everything I did to discourage you, you saved me again. From there, I was lost. I was torn up with guilt over destroying my girlfriend’s life and not being there when she nee
ded me most. I was also struggling with feelings I didn’t know I could still possess.”
I inched closer, letting my knee brush against her thigh. “Reagan, I didn’t—I didn’t want to destroy your life, too. I’m bad luck. Was bad luck. I’m—I’m seeing now that maybe . . . maybe I wasn’t seeing things clearly. That maybe I feared getting close because I didn’t want to lose you, too.” I stopped, chest heaving. The air was thin, thinning still. So many words, so many feelings dropped into the unknown void. I was naked before her, more vulnerable than I’d ever remembered feeling.
And I didn’t know.
I didn’t know if my words were too late.
“I’m sorry,” Reagan said, her voice muffled against her bent knees. “Losing someone you care about in passing hurts badly enough. I couldn’t imagine losing someone I loved, and carrying that guilt for so long. I’m so sorry.”
Her words gutted me yet again. I had dropped my sorrows into her lap and didn’t once apologize for all the wrongs I’d done her.
I didn’t deserve her or her forgiveness.
But . . .
If I walked away right now, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.
I moved, knelt in front of her. I still couldn’t see her face—didn’t know if she wanted me to leave—but I opened my mouth and held nothing back.
“I hurt you. I hurt you so much. I thought that by pushing you away, I was saving you from me. That you’d be better off. But I couldn’t stay away. I came back again and again, hurting you more and more. Reagan,” I choked out her name, not caring that tears were falling again. I didn’t want to lose her. I would cry a million tears if only she’d look up at me one more time.
Just once.
“Please, Reagan. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for kissing you like you meant nothing. I’m sorry for shoving you away over and over. You aren’t nothing. You’re everything. But I didn’t think—I didn’t think I deserved you.” I paused, heaving in air through a raw throat.
Dawn till Dusk: An Urban Fantasy Romance (Genesis Crystal Saga Book 1) Page 23
