26. Coen
Coen
Ifucked up. Big time. And everything I do only continues to dig the hole bigger and bigger with no chance of me ever dragging myself out.
I’ve ruined things with June. And with her slipping further out of my grasp, I feel my humanity tumbling out the door with her.
If only there were a way to turn back time.
I’d snap my fingers and be back on that street and never get in the truck with my dad.
I’d demand that I stay with her. I would have put my foot down and insisted that he go on his own.
He would have died either way, he didn’t need me there with him.
I didn’t have to witness his murder. I didn’t have to become a part of that world.
I didn’t have to lose the last remaining years of my adolescence to a life of crime.
But that’s the reality of it—I was just a kid. And here I am, blaming that kid for the situation I’m in now.
I could have made the choice to find her, to come clean about why I had left. I could have made things right, and we could have picked up where we left off. But I chose to stay away. I did that, not anyone else. And I chose to keep my distance until there was no other choice.
Even when she sat down next to me with that handful of wildflowers, I knew that I would be the worst thing in her life.
And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think a part of me was purposely sabotaging this all because I’ve known from the start that I was never good enough for her.
If I just push her away, she'll never find out the truth about who I am and the things I've done. I wouldn't ruin her, corrupt her, or shape her into something she wouldn't recognize.
I could save her from a life of torment if I bottled it all up and kept it for myself. She wouldn’t have to see the darkness if I carried it for both of us.
But no matter how hard I try, nothing I do stops the darkness from dancing closer to her.
She hates me, and I don’t blame her. I’d hate me, too. For the past, for the present, and for the future I can never give her. I don’t know how to be the man she deserves because I am incapable of being good.
She is everything to me, but to her, I am nothing.
June would have been better off never meeting me.
Then I never would have ruined her idea of love—I never would have broken her heart, and it never would have set her on the path to finding us.
Maybe she would have fallen for a nice guy, a reliable guy, someone who could love her and keep her safe.
Truly safe, protected from this life of crime we will never be able to escape from.
Bryant keeps making sure Dom and I know that Simon is better for her than us, but he’s just as corrupt as we are. And according to what happened last night, he’s incapable of protecting her.
I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t fucking function knowing I’ve fucked things up this bad. To the point that I no longer recognize the person staring back at me in the mirror.
I don’t want to be this version of me, but there is not a damn thing I can do to stop him from taking complete control.
My only saving grace is knowing that there is someone out there who will pay for what they have done to her.
I will make it my life’s mission to bring June the justice she deserves, and then I will disappear into the shadows, never to be seen or heard from again.
I refuse to continue plaguing her. I can’t stomach watching her lose faith in me—in us.
She’s better off without me, and I will make sure of that once I’ve enacted my revenge.
I can't stand another moment of watching her slip away into the arms of a man more capable of giving her what she needs than I am.
It's not even about jealousy—I've grown familiar with sharing her. It’s about recognizing that I am not a suitable choice for her. And maybe that’s why I hate Simon so much.
Because he loves her in a way that I will never be able to.
The things I have done are not redeemable—I’m well aware of this. But there is one thing I can do, and that’s kill the bastard responsible for hurting the only girl I’ve ever loved.
Even if it kills me, I will make sure it’s done.
June walks down the stairs with Beckett on her heels.
He slept in her bed, and even though it’s something we all would have killed him for two days ago, we don’t push the issue. June said it herself last night, we’re lucky she’s still here. And if it takes Simon being that fucking close to her, I’ll accept those terms.
She clutches her arm to her side and comes closer, putting somewhat of a distance between us and them.
Simon and June on one side, Dom, Magnus, and me on the other.
A line in the sand.
“I’ve slept on it,” she says, her voice raspy from a heavy night’s sleep. “I will stay on one condition.”
“What is it, princess?” Magnus blurts out immediately, nearly chomping at the bit to do whatever it is she asks of us.
I internalize that same exact feeling without acting on it. Dom, no doubt, does the same.
“You let me help.” She glances between us. “You let me help figure out who wants me dead.” June chews at the inside of her lip. “It’s either that, or I walk out of here and never come back.”