Chapter Fifty-three
I t’s been four days since I last saw her. Four days of unanswered texts and calls, four days of going to Sebastian’s house only to be told to fuck off, which I expected. I’m actually more surprised he didn’t add to the mess of bruises on my face. I wish he had, it’s what I would deserve.
I’d take every beating, every punch for a chance to catch a glimpse of her.
I’ve begged and I’ve pleaded. Willow almost caved yesterday, I saw it on her face but then Bast came back and slammed the door in my face.
Fuck, I miss her.
I miss seeing her smile, and the way her eyes light up when she laughs. I miss watching her dance. I’ve watched videos, hundreds of them over the past few days, but it’s not the same as seeing her body move as the music completely takes her over. I miss her warmth and the way her lips feel on mine.
I send another text, adding to the thread of read and ignored messages and then stare down at the weights I can’t lift since my shoulder is still fucking busted. Not only is my soul in pieces, but my body is also following in its path. I can barely fucking eat; I can’t fucking sleep.
It’s three a.m., the whole city is sleeping around me, darkness pressing against the windows like shadowy claws trying to get through. Dean has spent most days here with me, we don’t talk, he just sits there on his laptop and works. It’s not like I’m remotely pleasant to be around and anyone else would have stopped returning but it’s my brother. We show up for each other and always have.
Pushing up from the bench in the gym, I wander through the dark house, knowing the halls like the back of my hand until I reach my spare room that’s still full of paintings of her. And I sit in there, with the unfinished canvas of her on the easel ahead of me until the sun rises the following morning to start another day without her.
“You’re fucking miserable,” Dean groans, dropping the coffees to the kitchen counter hard enough splashes of it spurt out the small drink hole in the lid .
I grunt and reach for the drink, needing something stronger than damn coffee but knowing at ten a.m., I shouldn’t. I want to be able to drive in case she calls.
“Have you seen her?” I ask him.
“Briefly,” He nods, “She’s just as bad.”
“She’ll be fine,” I say, knowing it to be true.
“She won’t be, Killian.” He shakes his head, “Bast let on that she’s regained a lot over the past week, more than when you were last with her.”
“She remembers?” My hand pauses with the cup halfway to my mouth.
“I don’t know how much,” Dean explains.
Enough to remember her telling me she loved me? Enough for those feelings to root back in? If she remembers and hasn’t contacted me, does that mean it is truly over?
“She’s going home today,” Dean continues, “Sloane will be staying with her but Kill, she looks as bad as you do.”
My heart thumps painfully.
“You’ve got to do something.” Dean meets my eyes, “You were happy, even if we didn’t know why at the time, you were happy and so was she.”
I drop his eyes and stare down at the grains in the wooden counter, “I fucked it up, Dean.”
“Then fix it.” He snaps .
“And how do you figure I do that?”
“I don’t fucking know, just fucking fix it. If I were you, I’d start with Bast and work from there. He’ll block your every move if you don’t, and you’ll never be able to mend what you broke with her.”
I nod, agreeing but I’ve no idea how to even start that conversation.
The door opens and Bast fills the doorway, his thunderous expression clearly showing his feelings about finding me here yet again.
“I’m not here for her,” I say even though I know she isn’t here.
His jaw ticks.
“I fucking love her, Bast.” The words break as I release them, a burn starting behind my eyes.
For a second, his face falters, “I trusted you.”
“I know.” Guilt rolls through me.
“That’s my fucking sister!” He growls, “I wanted to keep her away from this, Killian! From this life! How am I meant to do that if she is with you!?”
“She knows more than you think she does,” I meet his eyes, “You think you’ve sheltered her, but you underestimate how smart she is.”
“Don’t pretend to know her more than I do,” He snaps at me, “I raised her. ”
“You did, but I saw her.”
I’m asking for another beating. I’ll take it if that’s what he wants to do but I’ll turn back up tomorrow and the day after and the day after.
“Get the fuck out of here.” He moves to close the door.
“Just fucking listen to me!” I snap at him, my temper flaring. “Just fucking listen!”
He pauses and a stir of movement behind him draws my attention. Willow stands with her shoulder leaning on the wall and her arms crossed, listening.
“She fucking loves me, Sebastian, and this is hurting her!”
“Does she?” He challenges, “Because the last I checked, you fucking broke her heart.”
“For you!” I bellow. “Because I didn’t use my damn head and decided that what you did for me all those fucking years ago was more important than what I had with her! I thought I owed you but fuck, Bast, if I owe you for that I’m not sure I want it anymore.”
“The fuck?” He snaps, “You think I pulled you off that street to lord it over your head for the rest of your life?”
“No,” I sigh, “But you took me and Dean in when the whole damn world was against us and I betrayed you but I’m sorry, Bast, I pick her.”
“The fuck do you mean? ”
“It means, you can block and beat and roar but you’ll have to kill me to stop me.”
“Don’t tempt me.” He warns.
“Then fucking get it over with,” I reach into my jacket and pull out my gun, flicking off the safety and hand it to him, “Put a bullet in my skull because it’s the only way this ends. If you don’t, I am going to do everything I can to make it up to her. I am going to get on my fucking knees and beg her to take me back. I am going to atone for the rest of my life for the pain I caused her. So, if you want to stop me, kill me.”
His hands remain at his side, the gun between us.
“Come on,” I coax, “Do it.”
“And if she doesn’t forgive you?” He asks instead.
“Then I’ll respect her wishes but I won’t stop loving her.”
His eyes flick to the gun and then back to my face, “You’ve made your choice.”
“I have.”
“You hurt her again,” He snatches the gun from me, unloads it with a quick turn of his hands until bullets rain onto the steps in front of his door and then hands it back, “Those bullets will find a permanent home inside your body.”
“I hurt her again,” I take the gun back but leave the rounds on the ground, “I’ll put them there myself.”
A loaded silence settles between us until a heavy sigh escapes him and he steps back into the house without another word and closes the door.
It’s not right between us but I’m not dead and that’s progress.
I turn and head back to my car, the roar of the engine loud down the quiet street as I make a U turn and press on the gas so I can get back to the city as quickly as possible. I’m not waiting for another night to see her.
Fuck, I’ll wait on her doorstep all night if I have to.
I am hers. And if Savannah wants the world, I’ll give it to her. Whatever it takes.