“Doesn’t seem to be much left to talk about,” he said, refusing to look at me as he packed a few things into the backpack.
He wasn’t going to make this easy. But I got it. After all, in the MC world a cold shoulder was rare. I was lucky I didn’t have a bullet in my skull. I knew the Kings of Mayhem would never harm a woman because it went against everything they valued. But I could be the exception, given my betrayal.
“I can’t help who I was in the past,” I said. “And you know I had no choice about moving to Destiny.”
He opened the top drawer to his desk and removed a notebook, putting it in the breast pocket of his cut. “I do.”
“But do you believe that I would never have tried to hurt you.”
“Yes.”
“Then why won’t you look at me, dammit?” I choked out, my chin quivering.
He looked at me, and when his eyes met mine, they were ice cold. “We’ve been together three months, Taylor. You had three months to tell me!”
“But I couldn’t. And you know why I couldn’t.”
He shook his head and zipped up his backpack. “It would’ve been nice to know that the woman I was in love with was a cold-blooded killer.”
“So, it’s okay for you to have killed bad people? But not me? Is that why you don’t love me anymore? Because I used to be a hired killer?” I trembled with heartache; my throat tight with emotion. “You told me once, that there was nothing I could say that would change your feelings for me. Is this you telling me you were wrong?”
His barely contained restraint broke, and his backpack fell to the floor with a thud. He stalked toward me, his eyes blazing. A deadly combination of fury and heartache burning off him as he stood over me.
“I couldn’t care less how many men you’ve killed. You and me, we don’t live in the real world. Ours is full of darkness and evil, and you do what you gotta do to survive.” He moved just an inch closer, but it was enough for me to see his racing pulse pounding in the vein in his neck. “Except lie to the man you’re supposed to fucking be in love with.”
He was so close and I was intoxicated by his heat. I wanted to reach out and touch him. I felt breathless and dizzy, my own pulse roaring in my ears.
“I am in love with you,” I whispered.
He stepped back as if my words burned him.
“Sorry, lady, but you have one hell of a way of showing it.” He picked up his backpack and threw it over his shoulder.
“Where are you going?” I was terrified I was never going to see him again.
“Away.”
“Are you coming back?”
He glared at me. “Unlike some people, I don’t get to fucking run away from my problems. I’m the king of fucking kings remember. I have an MC to run.”
“Then, when will you be back?”
“When I’m ready.”
I started to cry. “Please—”
“What?”
“Tell me how I can make this right.” I cried. I went to him but he reared back from my touch. But I couldn’t let him walk away, so I reached for him again, and this time he let me. “There has to be a way to make this right.”
He looked pained. His face passive but his eyes stormy and anguished. His backpack dropped to the floor again. And with a hiss he pulled me into his rock-hard chest, and I fell like a ragdoll against him.
“How could you fucking do this to me?” he cried suddenly, his face ravaged by turmoil. He dropped his forehead to mine, inhaling deeply as if he was breathing in my very essence. He reached for my jaw. “How could you break down every goddamn wall I had, only to make me want to build new ones?”
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “But if you give me a chance, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
His grip tightened around my jawbone. His breathing suddenly ragged as his blazing eyes rushed over my face. I could feel his agony, and it was breaking my heart.
“Why, little bird?” He moaned desperately. “I fucking loved you. I would have done anything for you.”
Loved. Not love.
“I’m sorry—”
He slammed his lips to mine, groaning as his tongue swept into my mouth. I could feel the vibration of it ripple through to my bones. His kiss was desperate. Angry. Heartbroken. His big hands pressed into my cheeks. There was a storm inside of him, raging wild as his mouth dominated mine.
With a moan, he ripped himself away from me.
“You’re the best and the worst thing to happen to me,” he growled, and then picking up his backpack, stormed out of the room.