My throat tightened and burned. Even if I’d wanted to answer him, I couldn’t have. When he reached for my face, I turned away.
“Don’t,” I choked out.
“Am I… Am I not even worth a fight?” he whispered. “Red?”
“I said—” I bit the words out, feeling angrier when I heard my voice quiver. “Don’t. Call. Me. That.”
I’d known from the start that he would hurt me if I let him in. I had let him in, and he had hurt me more than I could possibly imagine. I wanted to hurt him just as much before he could do even more damage. So I lashed out and hurt him as deeply as I could.
To protect myself.
I looked him in the eyes. “I want you to leave me alone from now on. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear from you. It’s not going to work out between you and me. It never will.”
“Liar.”
“I was desperate,” I said. “You were convenient.”
He grabbed my upper arms, his eyes full of rage as he stared at me. “I don’t believe you.”
I gave him a careless shrug and shook off his hold on me, showing him I didn’t care. But my heart was breaking. Because I was so afraid of getting hurt, so terrified of being weak like my mother, that the panic was a constant threat in my chest. My dark thoughts about him had been right all along.
“I don’t care what you did with her, what you do with her. I don’t care. You can sleep with whoever you like. That’s what you’re used to anyway. That’s who you really are.”
His eyes blazed with anger. Without warning, he gripped my shoulders and yanked me to him, burying his face in my hair with a ferocity that took my breath away.
I felt my resolve weaken.
“No!” I pounded his chest with my fists, trying to push him away. “Let go of me!” But he held on tighter.
“Don’t ask me to let go of you. I can’t,” he said against my ear. “I can’t.”
My body sagged against him, all the fight draining out of me. I was horrified as the tears I’d bottled up started to flow.
“I have given you more of myself than I have given anyone, Caleb.” I sobbed, the ice around my heart cracking.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, leaning his forehead against mine. “I would never hurt you. You are the only one.”
I closed my eyes as his hand caressed my face. “God,” he whispered. “Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry.”
His lips found mine, coaxing and gentle, breaking down my defenses.
“I want more. Not just scraps. I want all of you,” he said desperately.
As if he sensed I was softening, his hands gently held the sides of my neck, his thumbs tenderly stroking my skin. When his arms wrapped around my waist to pull me closer, I gave in to his kiss. I forgot everything as his tongue delved deeply in my mouth, claiming me. His body was hard, his hands hot on my skin.
And then my sanity returned.
“No!”
I pushed him back, but he held on to me.
How many times had I seen my mother give in to my father just like this? I was so scared I would give in, forget what he did, and forgive him over and over again. Until I lost myself. He couldn’t have all of me. That was the point.
“Let me go!”
When he finally released me, I swiped my mouth angrily with the back of my hand, erasing his kiss. Erasing him.
“Just stop it!” I yelled. “How do I get rid of you? God, you’re like an annoying stray dog!”