Chapter 20
Twenty
Henry
The fire snaps and spits, and the rain pelts the roof, but neither is as loud as my pulse in my ears.
I fix my stare on the flames because if I look at Tabitha, really look, I’ll roll over onto her and take what we both want.
The wood crackles, and all I can think about is how I want her that fiercely, like fire running through my veins.
Honesty.
Is she asleep yet?
Maybe if I say something…
If she doesn’t answer, I’ll know.
I breathe in. Exhale. “Sometimes it gets…loud in here. In my head. The noise. Flashbacks. Gun. Blood. The sound of Ralph’s body hitting the floor.
Then the accident—the beam crashing, Zach whining, the white lights, the staples in my skull.
Sometimes I can’t tell if it’s the past or the present. It all just…collides.”
Saying it feels like I’m baring myself, and I don’t even know if she can hear me.
But she does. She hugs her knees to her chest.
“I get that,” she says softly. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to go through something like that, but I get that your head gets loud. That you want to stop thinking about something so much that it literally hurts.”
Her words rip through me. My mind conjures the image of some derelict stopping her, putting his hands on her, trying to drag her away.
“I fought, but he was stronger,” she says, as if reading my mind.
I should have been there.
I would have been there, if not for that fucking beam.
“Thank God for Lance,” she continues. “He’s nice. Normal. But I can’t…” She turns toward me. “I don’t want him.”
Something in my chest cracks. Normal? Is she saying I’m not normal?
She wouldn’t be wrong.
“So I cope,” she goes on. “I tie knots. Memorize instruments. Make lists. Keep moving. Because if I don’t—if I stop—I’ll break.”
Every muscle in me strains against itself. My hands close into fists, my body screams to cross the distance and pull her against me, to swear I’ll never let anyone touch her like that again.
But I force myself still.
“If I’d been there—”
“You weren’t.” Her voice is steady, not cruel. “Just like I wasn’t there when you needed me. In some kind of warped way, I guess we’re even.”
The storm presses harder against the cabin walls. Wind rattles the windows like fists. Inside, silence swells until it aches.
I clear my throat, force the words out. “Tabitha…” I rub my forehead. My pulse is everywhere. My throat, my wrists, my chest. “I won’t touch you until you ask me to. No more stealing. No more deciding for you. If you want me, it’s your choice. Yours alone.”
The time in the barn, when I took her harshly, almost violently… Part of me wishes I could take it back.
The other part of me wants that memory forever.
Her breath shivers. She uncurls slowly, every movement deliberate. Then she slides closer—just close enough that the heat of her body slips over mine.
My heart slams.
She drifts her hand down, hesitates, and then rests it on my thigh. Not by accident. And not lightly.
I don’t move. Don’t breathe. If I shift an inch, the dam will burst.
“Henry.”
Lightning strikes. The thunder that follows rattles the glass in the windows. The fire flares and then dips.
She flexes her fingers around my thigh.
“Tabitha.” It comes out a growl.
The storm answers with another crash.
She gasps softly. Not from fear.
The fire snaps, throwing sparks against the glass screen. Her face is all shadow and flicker, and her eyes… Those amber depths that I could let myself drown in.
“Tabitha,” I say, rougher than I mean to. “Don’t do this unless you mean it. I want to be the one who keeps you safe. Not some other guy.”
She leans closer, just enough that I can feel the warmth of her breath over my jaw.
“I don’t want safe,” she whispers. “I want you.”
And then…silence.
Just her hand on me, her breath, her words hanging in the dark, leaving me one second away from breaking every vow I just made.