CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Blair
After the EMTs assessed me, determining I had a mild concussion, Zach led me to his car, telling me he’d take me to the police station.
Halfway there, I asked him to get me to the nearest store first so I could get a toothbrush and toothpaste and then to a public restroom, where I rinsed William’s taste out of my mouth and freshened up.
But even with the physical traces of him removed, the sickening feeling inside me didn’t disappear, and when I raised my gaze to look at myself in the mirror, I saw only William hovering over me.
The whole world saw it too. While I’d wanted them to see the ugly truth behind my life, I felt sick that they had to witness William assaulting me and debasing me in the worst of ways . . .
I must’ve lost track of time because the door to the restroom opened and Zach stepped in, his eyes widening with worry at me.
“Blair? Are you okay?”
Suddenly, I couldn’t take it. The events of the night, the anxiety, the fear . . . It was too much, and I broke down, burying my face in my hands as the first tears burst out.
“Blair.”
His footsteps rushed over to me, and the next moment, I was in his embrace, his arms winding around me tightly.
My eyes went wide. “Zach—”
“Let me hold you.”
His tender voice undid me, and my body sank into him almost instantly, seeking comfort and safety from a person who should be the last one to provide them to me.
More tears poured down my cheeks, the sobs rocking my body.
His lips lowered to the top of my head, then found their way to my temple, leaving a dozen tiny kisses along the way.
“You’re safe now,” he said, but it sounded like it wasn’t for my benefit only, and it only made me cry more.
“No, don’t cry.” He cupped my cheeks and kissed each tear away, and I felt something crumbling in me.
My gaze traced his face, lingering on the spots where the bruises had already formed, and my stomach tightened to the point of pain when I thought about how close Dad was to hurting Zach irreparably.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” I said on a sob. “Are you okay? Do these hurt?”
He framed my face with his hands, his gaze so soft. “I’m okay. It’s not that bad.”
I sniffled. “I’m sorry.”
He frowned. “What for?”
“What Dad almost did . . . If he’d succeeded . . .”
“No, shh. It doesn’t even matter.”
“But it matters . . . you shouldn’t have come. You put yourself in danger.”
His eyes flashed with surprise. His brows pinched together, and his features shifted with a blend of torment, yearning, and something I could describe only as guilt. Guilt?
“Even now, you’re putting me first?” He threaded his fingers through my hair, shaking his head. “I should’ve known you were this way. I should’ve fucking known.”
He pressed another kiss on top of my head, tucking me against his shoulder like he never wanted to let me go.
For a moment, I never wanted him to, reveling in the sense of comfort and safety he provided in his arms. But then I pushed away from him, ignoring how cold that made my body feel.
As much as I needed to be close to him—as grateful as I was to him—I couldn’t act like we weren’t enemies.
“Why are you doing all of this?” I pulled farther away and supported myself against the counter. “Why did you come to William’s party? How did you get there without an invitation?”
“I had an invitation.”
“How?”
“Melody gave it to me. It was the invite for your mother.”
I pressed my fingers to my mouth. “What?”
“She came to my place earlier. She told me about your plan for tonight.”
What the hell? “She couldn’t have done that.” But she had suggested I come here with him.
“She did it because she was worried about you, and she was right because what you did was so reckless. You shouldn’t have gone in there all alone.”
“You don’t understand. You don’t know why I had to do it.”
“Yes, I do. I know everything.”
Embarrassment poured over me. I didn’t even want to imagine what could be going through his mind right now. “So you watched the live.”
“I watched it, but that’s not how I found out about it. Melody told me, Blair. She told me what you had to do . . . for her.”
I looked away, clenching my hands. Dammit, Melody! She’d had no right to say that.
“Why didn’t you tell me about it? Why didn’t you say a word when I saw you with him that night?”
“Why should I have? You were so ready to paint me as the worst. You didn’t even try to come up with a different explanation.”
The muscle in his jaw tightened. “I didn’t have any reason to trust you, Blair.”
I grimaced. “You’re right. You didn’t. Does that make you feel better now?”
“No, it doesn’t make me feel better! Do you have any idea how I felt when I learned you sacrificed yourself?
And when I realized what that CCTV video is about, that that guy was him— Fuck!
” He tightened his hand into a fist. “I had no idea what that footage really showed, and I used it against you. And I posted that video and then forced that tattoo on you, and I felt so fucking righteous, but now . . .” He ran his hand down his face, and when he looked at me, his eyes were full of torment. “You should’ve told me the truth.”
I dug my nails into my hand. “As if it would’ve made a difference. You said it yourself just now. You had no reason to trust me, and you wouldn’t have believed me, so I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it now.”
“Because if I’d known about it, I wouldn’t have posted that video or forced that tattoo on you!”
I gaped at him, my lungs seizing up. “What?”
“I wouldn’t have done anything. I wouldn’t have followed through with my revenge.”
No, no, no. He couldn’t say that. Not now.
“You’re not being serious.”
“It’s the truth. I was thinking about it before I saw you with him, you know? To stop pursuing my plan.”
I gasped. “What? Why?”
He took a step toward me. “Because something changed in me. I got to know you all over again, and I liked what I saw, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you.
But then I saw you with that motherfucker, and I thought you’d lied to me.
I thought I was a fool for falling for your lies.
For almost giving up my quest for revenge. ”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat, shaking my head. No.
“But I made a mistake, and I wish I can take it back. I wish I didn’t hurt you.”
No. No, no, no. My chest swelled with pain.
“How can you say that?” My voice wavered. “How can you say it was a mistake now? You hurt me. You got what you wanted.”
“Yes, I got what I wanted, but I’m not happy about it at all. I hate it. I can’t stand seeing you get hurt. I don’t want to see you get hurt. I want to protect you.”
I pressed my hand to my mouth, a cry tearing from my lips. He couldn’t be saying this. Not after everything.
“No. No, you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to say this shit after what you’ve done! You’re supposed to revel in it. You spent years on your revenge. You got exactly what you wanted. You don’t have any right to feel like this!”
“Except that I do feel like this.” He reached out his hand to trail his fingers across the side of my neck, and I hated how heat suffused me instantly.
“And I couldn’t care less about how I should feel, because all I can think about is you.
” He brushed the backs of his fingers over my jaw.
“How good it feels when I’m touching you.
Kissing you. Holding you . . .” His lips pressed to the corner of my mouth, and I shuddered, heat uncoiling inside me.
“All I’ve thought about these days is you, Blair.
You got so deep under my skin I can’t fucking get you out.
And when I saw you in danger tonight . .
. Fuck.” Slowly, he kissed my bottom lip, then my top lip .
. . and my head spun with potent need, longing hitting me hard as I imagined capturing his lips with mine.
I hated myself for it too.
“Why are you doing this? What are you trying to accomplish here, Zach?”
“I’m not trying to accomplish anything. I just . . . I want you.”
Oh my God. The needles of pain stabbed me in the heart, and crushing sadness swirled up inside me like a storm, bringing tears to my eyes.
How many times had I wanted to hear what he’d just said?
How many times had I fantasized about him wanting me, no hate between us?
But now, hearing this only drove excruciating pain into me, making me want to scream out loud.
If only I didn’t love him. Everything would be easier.
“You want me? How can you say that? How can you fucking say that after what you’ve done?!” I shoved his hand away.
His eyes widened. “Blair, I—”
“You revealed my most vulnerable moment to the world! You put a target on my back. And then you branded me forever with this horrible tattoo.” I smacked it, clenching my teeth against the pain that caused.
His face contorted. “It doesn’t have to be forever. We can remove it. There are procedures, and in time, it could be like it never existed in the first place.”
I gaped at him, immense pain searing through me. “We can remove it? Procedures? If procedures solved everything, you wouldn’t have a single reason to be mad at me, right?!”
He flinched, taking a step back. “Blair, I—”
“How can you act like this after everything you’ve done? Did you think I was that pathetic? Did you think I would lap up the attention?”
“No.”
“Then how did you expect me to react?”
“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. I fucked up.”
I gasped, pressing my hand to my mouth. I couldn’t believe him. “You’re sorry?”
“Yes. I wish I could take it back. I wish I didn’t hurt you.”
A strong wave of pain hit me, and it almost knocked all the air out of me, tears spilling down my face. “No. No, you— Just no.”
He reached out to me. “Blair—”
“Don’t touch me!” I stepped away from him.
“You don’t get to say this. You don’t get to apologize.
” I shook my head, wiping away my tears, but they kept coming.
“I begged you to stop for so long, but you didn’t care, hurting me over and over again, until you destroyed me that day.
You watched me with no remorse or compassion as you released that video or as that guy tattooed me—as you inflicted the worst kind of pain on me.
So now you don’t get to act like this.” I swiped my purse off the counter.
“I’ll be going to the police station on my own. ”
“Blair, I—”
“I don’t want to hear it, Zach! I don’t want to hear anything.
” I took a long breath. “What you did tonight for me . . . I’m really grateful to you, but if you think it changes something between us, it doesn’t.
We’re enemies, Zach, and that’s all we are ever going to be.
So, you can get back to your life and leave me alone.
” I moved to step past him, but he stopped me, grasping my wrist.
“I can’t get back to my life. Not after tonight. I need you, Blair. I need to be near you.”
I grabbed his hand and shoved it off my wrist. “I told you not to touch me! I don’t want you to touch me ever again, you hear me? In fact, I want you to stay as far away from me as possible.” I headed for the exit.
“Blair, wait! Blair, you don’t mean that!”
I grabbed the handle, shoving the door open.
“I know you feel something for me! I know it.”
I halted, my hand tightening around the handle.
My heart contracted with so much love it became unbearable for me to even breathe.
I loved him—I loved him so much I felt I was going to break apart the moment I stepped out of this restroom.
But I would never tell him that. He would never get to know I’d only ever belonged to him.
I brushed away my tears and turned to look at him one last time, making sure my expression conveyed only hatred, slipping back into my old role. “Look at you, Zach, pleading me and acting so desperate. Where’s that big bad Zach Curtis now?”
He flinched, paling.
“Did you really think I could feel anything for you after everything you’ve done? I hate you, Zach. I wish I’d never met you. And I sure as hell hope this is the last time I’ll ever see you because I can’t even stand to be near you. You got what you wanted.” I tapped my tattoo. “Now live with it.”
Devastation filled his expression, and I felt my chest inflating as emotions rapidly shifted over his face, fighting my tears.
Sadness, surprise, confusion, anger. It felt like minutes—or hours—passed as we just stared at each other, the air between us swelling with heaviness until I couldn’t take it anymore.
I broke our gaze and stepped outside, letting the door shut behind me.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. A hollow and cold sensation gnawed at my heart, but I walked away, ignoring the urge to go back inside.
This was it. This was the end of our wretched story, and it hurt more than anything I’d felt before.
Why had he saved me tonight? Why had he acted like he cared when it was pointless?
It only served to cause me more pain, and I wished it wasn’t already carving itself deep into my memory like it meant something. I wished it didn’t mean anything.
I wished what he’d done for me tonight hadn’t only made me love him more.
Hugging myself, I kept walking, all the while trying not to think about how desperate he’d looked as I was about to leave . . . and how I was afraid I wouldn’t ever be able to purge my feelings for him, no matter how hard I tried.
And how maybe that was actually the ultimate punishment here.