Until, it came back to me, that day when Rick had told me something. He said she blamed herself, took responsibility for her brother’s death.
She wet her lips. “I let go of his hand, you know?” she said, nodding. “My brother Nathan? I let go of his hand, and he drowned.”
Drowned.
A head shake before her tears hit the beach. “I told him I hated him because he wanted to play, and I didn’t want to. I mean, who does that?”
A kid, a child.
I stayed silent, watching her. At this point, she looked like she wanted to be sick, but she didn’t turn away.
“My dad left after that,” she said. “He left our family because of me, and now he’s so busy drinking and gambling his life away. He doesn’t even remember us, remember our family.” She swallowed hard. “I ruined my parents’ marriage. I lost my brother, and now, I’ve wrecked your life too.”
I would have said the same thing, that she had wrecked my life by basically being me. That she’d been what my father had chosen instead of being there for me.
But in my head, it sounded just as much of a lie as what this girl had convinced herself of being true. That she’d been responsible for her little brother’s death, a kid herself. It all sounded like bullshit.
It all sounded sad.
“I’m so sorry, Jaxen,” she said, shrugging. She dropped her arms. “I get why you hate me. I’d hate you too.”
She’d hate me too.
She should hate me, hate me for taking my rage out on her when my shit lay only with one person. It hadn’t been her fault.
I’d just needed it to be.
Dropping my head, I couldn’t see straight, unable to make out the beach even if I wanted to. I got lost in the individual grains of sand and sea shells, a placeholder for all the crap in my head. With a breath, Cleo started to walk away, and I knew that was it. She wanted nothing from me. She just wanted to give me her truth, no matter how fucking wrong it was. She’d wanted to offer me that peace, but wanted nothing from me in return. She thought she was sparing me.
“Why can’t you just let me hate you?”
She stopped right in the sand after I spoke, then froze when I pulled her over to me.
I massaged her hips, making her tremble as she melded into my lap. My previous words radiated in the air, rupturing through me as I wrapped my arms around her waist and touched my forehead between her breast. She smelled like heaven, my fucking hell. “Why, Cleo?”
My fingers embedded into her thighs, fucking perfect. Gazing up, I looked at her, clouded through my eyes. She had tears herself.
“Because I,” she started, her tears falling to her chest. “You don’t hate me?”
“Why do you hate you?” I asked, a better question. “You can’t possibly think… Your little brother? You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”
I could see that, deep in her eyes, she did believe the lie. She let herself believe it, drowning herself in it.
Her shoulders shook as she gazed away, and she didn’t get to do that. She’d look at me.
I made her as I forced her mouth on mine, drowning in her sorrow. It felt better than my own. I mourned my own hate toward her, so strong before.
“I want to hate you so bad,” I admitted, more than one time now. “But I can’t. It’d be a lie.”
This was the only truth, all I had. I cared about this girl.
I think I more than cared.
I couldn’t admit any of that, though, all this needing to be enough. It was enough, for now. I needed her.
“I want you,” she whispered, biting my lip and hardening my cock. “God, Jaxen. Please.”
She didn’t even have to beg, my eyes falling closed as I tugged her hips and tucked her between my legs. I undid her belt, then pulled it out, tossing it on the sand. After that, I ripped off my shirt and was standing before her.