Buttons & Hate (Buttons 2)

“My father passed away ten years ago. My mom has been gone for five.” He rubbed his fingers together, trying to concentrate on the task in front of him. Whatever he was going to say next caused him immense pain. His shoulders were stiff and he purposely took short breaths. When he was most vulnerable, he was also the least emotional. “And my sister passed away a few months ago.” His voice remained steady but he clenched his jaw like it was all he could do to remain in control of his feelings. “It’s been hard for me.”

My heart broke into a million pieces when I heard him speak. When Jacob betrayed me, I couldn’t think straight. The agony was too much. But hearing Crow confess his pain hurt more than anything else I’d ever experienced. It was more pain than I could tolerate. I wanted to fix everything. I want to erase his suffering. “I’m so sorry.”

He bowed his head. “I know what it’s like not to have a home. I have Cane but...it’s not the same.”

Unable to take the distance between us a moment longer, I crawled into his lap and straddled his waist. He leaned back to accommodate my movement before he rested his face in the crook of my neck. His long arms wrapped around me and kept me in place. His breathing didn’t change, and he was as emotionless as ever. But he clung to me like my presence meant something.

I pressed a kiss to his forehead and ran my fingers through his hair. My heart thudded hard against his chin, feeling the exact same pain he felt. This man captured me and held me against my will, but I was heartbroken when he was heartbroken. I cared for him more than I wanted to admit. When he suffered, I suffered twice as much. Was that why he was irritated with me when I collapsed under my grief? Because he had to feel it too?

He moved his face from my neck and looked up at me, the pain still burning in his eyes. There were no tears or even a drop of moisture, but he showed his agony in a more profound way. His eyes were the gateway to his soul—which was broken beyond repair.

I cupped his face and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was the softest one I’d ever given him. My mouth slowly moved against his, and I felt my eyes saturate with tears. Warm and salty, they streaked down my cheeks until they landed on his skin.

He gripped me tighter as the kiss continued. We were connected in a way more profound than any other touch we’d shared. The moment was different than all the rest. He touched me like a delicate rose petal, and I poured my heart out to him as I kissed his lips. I laid my cards down and told him the truth—that I cared deeply about him.

And he told me the same thing.

Something snapped inside him and he withdrew. His lips were taken away, my tears still on his cheeks. He scooted me off his lap and onto the bed. Then he rose to his feet, shutting down like nothing happened at all. He wouldn’t look at me, turning ice-cold all over again.

“Crow?” I wiped my tears with the back of my forearm, embarrassed for crying in front of him.

He stared at the ground because he couldn’t handle the look in my eyes. His hands were on his hips, his shoulders returning to their rigid sternness. “Good night.” He turned his back on me and walked away.

I didn’t know what happened. One instant, we were combined together, sharing a vulnerable and tender moment. And in the next, he walked away. He turned off his heart and kicked me out of his mind. He pushed me away, drawing a line he never wanted me to cross.

A line he would never cross again.

Chapter Two

Crow

I stayed away from her for two days. She didn’t come near me either so our discomfort was mutual. She broke down some of my walls, so I erected new ones that were twice as high and three times as thick.

I didn’t like talking about my feelings. I didn’t like discussing shit that couldn’t be changed. I didn’t like wasting time on things that no longer mattered. But I was determined to break her spell, to bring her back to reality. I let my guard down to expose myself, to show her that some scars don’t heal. You just have to live with them.

But I made myself too vulnerable in the process.

I needed to reestablish our relationship. I was the master, and she was my slave. She was working off her debt so she could leave. That was it and nothing more.

On the third day, I visited her room and found her reading by the fire. She wore a white dress that exposed her petite shoulders. The light color looked perfect against her slightly olive skin. Living at my estate had exposed her to more sunlight than she was used to. The result was beautiful and glowing skin.