Perfect Rage (Unyielding 3)

But the overwhelming sick feelings of guilt and hate took hold and I couldn’t. So, I’d left it there. Connor never pushed me and it remained as a centerpiece on the kitchen table until this morning.

Connor was really trying and he’d even gone to meet Deck and the doctor yesterday to have blood taken. Afterwards, we did something normal; we held hands and walked along the beach. There was a wooden boardwalk, but Connor didn’t like that there were lots of other people walking, jogging, or biking along it, so we took off our shoes and walked along the sandy beach.

And now we were at the Center where I was going to take photos for the first time since the day I’d destroyed my camera at Moreno’s.

Connor slid his hand down my arm then linked his fingers in mine. “It’s my turn to be strong enough for both of us, baby.” He half smiled and my heart lifted. “I’ll protect you from the demons.”

“Aren’t vampires and demons on the same side?”

His half grin turned into a full-out grin and my heart melted. “Not this vampire. This vampire is a rebel and in love with a fuckin’ werewolf.”

I laughed and some of the nervousness alleviated.

Make new stories.

Make new memories.

If Connor could try, I certainly could.

“Alina!”

I looked toward the barn at Danny who waved frantically. Chess stood beside Rocket who had his head stuck in a pink bucket, probably munching on his breakfast. She waved, smiling.

Connor unstrapped the camera case from the back of his bike then slipped it on my shoulder. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

We then walked toward our demons to face them together.

Demons weren’t the issue though, Bacon was. He was apparently having a bad day and Rocket wasn’t any help with his bleating from inside the barn where he was temporarily delegated, but the clatter of him playing with the latch meant his escape was imminent.

Connor meeting Chess and Danny went over well because neither of them made a big deal of it, although there was tension in Connor’s body when he shook both their hands. His brows furrowed and lips pursed and it looked as if he was fighting one of his headaches, but he didn’t leave.

For me it was all nerves with my hands trembling and my stomach churning as I set the camera on the ground and crouched to unpack it.

The photos scattered all over the glass coffee table flashed before my eyes and my screams and sobs echoed. Then seeing Connor’s emotionless face and that crushing feeling of suddenly hating my passion with everything inside me.

Connor crouched beside me.

My hands frozen on the camera case, he gently pushed them aside then took the camera out and removed the lens cap. Before I knew what he was doing, he leaned into me, lifted the camera so it faced us then pressed the shutter taking a picture of us. Like we’d done so long ago.

He lowered the camera and kissed me. “Not going to happen again, baby. I won’t let it.” Then he handed it to me and rose.

Pictures of us. What had destroyed Connor and yet he was here.

I swallowed, glanced at him and he nodded encouragingly. If he could do this, so could I. I raised the camera and peered through the lens.

And then it was gone. All the fear vanished as the beauty in what I loved emerged again.

Two hours later, Rocket still screamed his displeasure from the barn and Chess was out in the horse pasture with three Clydesdale horses that Emily, the wife of the lead singer from the Tear Asunder band, had rescued from slaughter.

I stepped off the fence rail after taking a few shots of the pasture and turned to find Connor who had gone to check out the house. But he hadn’t gone to check out the house. He was with Danny by the barn.

He sat on his haunches while he drew something in the sand using a stick. Danny had a fierce concentrated look, eyes focused, lips pursed, head bowed. I had no idea what Connor was drawing and it didn’t matter. He said he could never be around kids again and yet there he was chatting with Danny.

He trusted himself not to hurt him.

I raised my camera, focused in and took a few close-ups. There was tension in Connor’s shoulders and he scowled, but he was hanging out with a kid.

I approached and when I was close enough, I heard the strain in his voice. Despite his struggle, he did it. God, I loved him even more, if that were possible.

He was trying. Whether it was due to the gunshots or what he and Deck talked about, or a combination, whatever it was, Connor was fighting for himself and that meant us, too.

I glanced at the lines in the sand. Connor was drawing an agility course for Bacon in the gravel and explaining where the best place to put each obstacle according to Bacon’s strengths and weaknesses.