Hurricane Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 1)
Page 39
My body trembled at the intensity of his emotions and as much as I didn’t want to follow him, I’d started this and I had to see it through. I waited a minute and took some long, deep breaths before joining him in the room.
He’d dressed in jeans and a clean black T-shirt, and was putting his boots back on. I knew he heard me enter, because how could he not, but he didn’t look at me or speak to me. He simply continued lacing his boots.
Ignoring the fact he appeared to be leaving, I said, “We can start at the beginning. Discuss why I felt it necessary to do what I did.” I sounded a lot more confident than I felt. On the inside, I was shaking more than I was on the outside.
Winter’s head snapped up. “Nothing necessitates a woman getting herself pregnant without first discussing it with her partner. But hell, if you wanna start there, knock yourself out.”
I swallowed hard. This was a side of Winter I hadn’t seen much of. He scared me a little when he was like this. “You’re right. I should not have done what I did. I own that and I’ll regret that decision for the rest of my life.”
“I’ll regret that decision for the rest of my life, too.” His tone was pure ice.
“I needed you here, Winter. We needed you here. I didn’t think we’d survive if you went back to Afghanistan. But I also didn’t think you’d be the one to figure that out.”
He stood and came my way, almost towering over me he came so close. His features were tormented, his nostrils flaring as he demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me you thought we were failing? And that you needed me here. If I’d known, I—”
My own anger burst to life, and unable to control it, I lashed out at what he’d said, “I did tell you! Over and over, I told you how much I was struggling and how much it was affecting us, but you either didn’t hear me or didn’t want to hear me.”
“I heard you, Birdie, but fuck, I was needed in Afghanistan. And I did eventually leave to come home to you. I chose you. But when I got home, you’d already checked out.”
“And that right there was the main problem we had, Winter. You always thought everyone else needed you more than I did. When you came home each time, you weren’t really here with me. Your mind wasn’t—”
“Jesus, my mind was screwed up over that fucking war. I was doing my best to give you what I thought you needed.”
My soul screamed with pain at his words, because deep down, I knew he was being honest. That fucking war had screwed him up, and he did do his best to be here for me, but he could never give me what I needed whil
e his mind was so messed up. Hell, he couldn’t even give himself what he needed. War had screwed us both up, and five years later, we were still picking up the pieces, trying to bandage ourselves back together.
I stopped arguing and took a deep breath. Nodding, I said, “I know you were.”
While I tried to calm my anger, Winter was too far gone to contain his. “So you figured throwing a baby into the mix would solve all that?” His tone was mean. Hurtful. But then, he was hurt and this was his way of expressing that.
“I hoped it would.” My voice broke as my emotions strangled me. “I was a mess back then. Confused about us, about our future, about your job. And I made a bad decision that I wish I could take back.”
His eyes were so hard I felt like he could drill his anger into me with them. “Yeah, you did. But the thing you did that I regret the most was that you left without telling me. I spent months trying to get to the bottom of that, and not once did you even come close to giving me the truth. I would have listened, Birdie. Would have worked through it with you. Instead, we lost all this time together.” He raked his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “Fuck!”
Before I had a chance to say anything more, he reached for his wallet and shoved it into his pocket.
When he swiped the room key off the table, I said, “Where are you going?”
“Out.”
“Winter, you’ve already been drinking and you’ve already gotten into a fight. I don’t think—”
His furious gaze landed on me again. “Don’t wait up for me.”
He was gone in a gush of wild energy, and I was left staring after him, questioning whether we had any chance at salvaging this wreck I’d made.
22
WINTER
Whisky and me were old friends, but tonight, I should have eased up on that friendship. Fuck knew how much I’d had to drink, but it was enough to mess with my thinking, so I stayed away from Birdie as long as I could. I didn’t want to discuss anything in this state, and I was fairly certain she’d want to talk if she was still awake when I got back.
By 3:00 a.m. I’d spent hours going over everything she’d told me, trying to get a handle on it. Trying to shift the weight of anger and disappointment crushing me. I hadn’t succeeded, but as I entered our hotel room and laid eyes on her, my chest tightened with love. It always did when I saw her. It wouldn’t matter what she did, that love would never disappear. That was what I clung to, because even with everything going on between us, there was nothing I wanted more than a future with this woman. I just didn’t know how to move us past where we were.
She rolled over, the sliver of light from outside casting a glow over her face as she sat up in the bed. “I was worried about you.”
Even in my drunken state, I experienced a twinge of guilt. It hadn’t been my intent to stay out late and worry her. However, I didn’t have it in me to get into that. After everything with her and Max, I was exhausted.