She crawled into her king-sized bed with its pure white duvet and white pillows and had my heart still existed—this would have ended it.
Her innocent face now marred by something else as she blinked her light blue eyes up at me as if to ask.
Am I still pretty?
Am I still worthy?
Am I still me?
On wooden legs, I walked over to her bed and sat on the edge of it; my hand trembled as I pushed some of her silky hair away from her forehead.
“I’m sorry—” my voice cracked “—that I couldn’t save you.”
“Breaker.” She reached for my hand and squeezed it. “There are some things, even the great Campisi son, can’t save me from. Like Valerian Petrov.”
I kept my sob in.
The pain was unbelievable.
The guilt was unimaginable.
I would not come out of this the same.
Neither of us would.
“Still.” I found my voice. “It’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe, and tonight, I was just as bad as them, just as deserving of punishment—death.”
“Tigers?” She offered with a small smile.
“How can you joke right now?” I couldn’t stop my body from shaking.
“Because.” She swallowed and looked away quickly. “If I don’t, then I won’t stop crying.”
I lay down facing her, pulling her close. “How about I change the story?”
“What?”
“The story. How about I change it?”
“Do you suddenly have a time machine hiding in your pants or what?”
I smiled at that. At least some of her sass was still there, lingering beneath the sadness and fear. “Yes, that’s what I tell all the ladies…”
“Knew it.”
God, her smile was unreal. “You met him dancing.”
“Who?”
“Your mystery man.”
“Ohhhhh, so you really are going to tell me a story?” She bit down on her bottom lip and frowned; her ears were bright with unshed tears. “Do you think it will help?”
“I hope so,” I answered honestly.
She nodded. “So, I met him dancing?”
“He bought you a drink, but you being the smart girl you are—”
“I dumped it and ordered my own.”
I smiled. “Good girl.”
“And then what happened?” She scooted closer.
“He kissed you—the best kiss of your life, books are written, sonnets are sung, and time stood still, the music slowed, it was just this kiss, existing between time and space.”
A tear slid down her cheek. “I don’t know what that sort of kiss feels like.”
My story seemed to be making things worse.
Without thinking, because if I did, I would lose the nerve, I pressed a soft kiss to her mouth and then deepened it as I massaged my tongue against hers then pulled back on the pressure. A hand slid up her neck as I held her close, kissed her like she deserved.
When I drew away, her eyes were misty. “I think I get it.”
“Good.” I pressed one more kiss to the tip of her nose. “You kissed and kissed, just like that, and when you couldn’t handle it anymore, he took you home, the end.”
She frowned. “Wait, what?”
“That’s all that happened,” I said softly. “Just the best few kisses of your life with a promise for more. No dark rooms. No guns. No violence. No stealing. Just you, mystery man, and the kiss. Focus on that.”
“Or,” She licked her lips and leaned in. “I could just focus on you instead of mystery man.”
My soul screamed no.
My heart, wherever it was, broken by my feet, used its last beats to say yes.
“Yeah, you could do that too,” I agreed as a feeling of darkness wrapped itself tightly around my throat, making it nearly impossible to breathe.
“Thanks, Breaker.” Her eyes closed while I kept watch over her, over a treasure I had failed to protect from the monsters of this world, from the darkness.
She fell asleep fast.
When her breathing deepened, I quietly got up from her bed and walked into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me.
The scream was building so hard and fast that my entire body was convulsing. I ran to the toilet and puked everything I had eaten that day and maybe for the past week out of my body as tears streamed down my cheeks.
And then I kicked off my shoes and walked into the shower fully clothed, closing the glass door behind me as I stumbled against the wall and slid down to the tile floor.
Tears mixed with the water.
And then the body-wracking sobs came.
I pounded my fists against the tile until blood dripped down my fingertips and arms.
I deserved the pain.
All of it.
“God!” My voice muffled against my forearm, so I didn’t wake her up as I rocked back and forth, back and forth until the water ran cold.
And even then. I sat there staring straight ahead, teeth chattering.
I could have saved her.
I should have saved her.
Why? Why? Why? I held my head in my hands, having no tears left to cry, nothing left to give.
I stood then, as memories pounded into my skull, and I walked out of that shower, no longer able to suppress the rage at Valerian Petrov and the secrets he held—the gift he held.