Chapter 32 #2
Even if I didn’t act on it, I still planted a seed capable of ruining Quinn’s career—his entire future in the NHL.
And for what? To be team captain for one fucking season?
To fulfill some role in a legacy I won’t even be passing on to another generation of Reeds after me? To keep from having to play with him?
It’s disgusting, and it’s a bitter pill to swallow. I just can’t believe I didn’t make this realization sooner.
Nothing is worth ruining the hard work and determination of someone else.
It sure as hell isn’t worth losing him.
I nod a couple times, swallowing harshly before meeting his gaze.
“You’re right. It wasn’t justified. And sure, the me five months ago wouldn’t have stopped him.
But it doesn’t change the fact that the me standing in front of you right now would.
Yeah, sure,” I say, tossing my arms out to my sides, “I wanted to be captain. I wanted to see you get knocked down a peg or two or ten, but it’s no fucking reason for me to do what I did.
I should have known and realized it, but I didn’t.
And I’m sorry for it. I really, truly am.
But you have to understand I’m not the guy from before. ”
“Before?”
“Before I saw past the bullshit, Quinn.” I lick my lips and step closer to him “When I got to see who you really were, it all started changing. Shifting, and no matter how many times I tried to make it stop, I was fucking helpless to it.”
His nod is grim, matching the thin line his mouth creates. “Not a good place to be for someone who loves control, is it?”
I shake my head, a long sigh slipping past my lips.
Not at all, babe. Not at fucking all.
“I don’t know…what you expect to come from all this.” He rubs the back of his neck before dropping it to his side again. “What do you want?”
So many things. But the most important is…to not lose you.
“For you to forgive me,” I whisper. “It doesn’t need to be today or tomorrow or next week or in a month. But I want your forgiveness, however long it takes to get it.”
Giving in to my urge to touch him, I close the couple feet of distance between us.
“Hit me. Hurt me. Get your payback. Your revenge. I don’t care what you do or how you do it, but please, do something.
Fucking anything is better than this.” My throat feels raw and shredded from shards of glass as I repeat the words he said the day he flipped my world on axis.
“Fight me, baby. There’s nothing I want more. ”
His eyes sink closed; only pure anguish etched into his features as his forehead connects with mine. “You really think I want that?”
From the tone of his voice, I can tell he doesn’t. I can’t say I blame him, either.
But I want him to fight me. Fight with me. Because if he does, there’s still a chance. For this to be fixed. That I didn’t fuck this up forever.
To know we’re still worth fighting for.
Because I think we are. I just hope he does too.
It’s only when his eyes open, gaze colliding with mine again, I find the courage to answer as honestly as I dare.
“I don’t know what you want.”
He shakes his head, throat working to swallow. “Well, that makes two of us. I can tell you I don’t want revenge or payback or any of the petty bullshit you just offered me. It’s not worth shit, after all. Something you taught me.”
“Quinn…”
He shakes his head again, eyes darting off to the side as he speaks.
“I can tell you what I used to want. Someone who understood my love for hockey. Who liked me for me, not my money or my name. Who would stand up for me. Who was on my side, even if it was just us against the rest of the world. All of which were completely obvious before you.” He licks his lips, and lets out a sharp sigh.
“But once this all started between us, I also realized I wanted someone who would laugh at me. Or with me, it didn’t matter which.
Someone to challenge me to be better. Who would drag me through the stacks and have his way with me.
Who would tell me he couldn’t stand me and then kiss me all in the same breath. ”
Every word leaving his lips breaks my heart more, and paired with the broken, raw way he says it, I’m surprised it’s still beating in my chest at all.
Because all those things he said, I can do or I’ve already done. They’re things we are or have together. They make us. And…it gives me hope.
Until he goes and quashes it altogether.
“But most of all,” he utters, his voice shredded and raw, “I wanted someone who wouldn’t fucking betray me.”
His words are a knife slicing through skin, muscle, and bone, stabbing straight into my barely beating heart. But I can’t even complain. Not when I dug one into his back first.
“I’m sorry, Quinn. I’m so sorry.”
His teeth sink into his bottom lip, and he shakes his head again. “I don’t wanna hear it, Oak. I’m sick of I’m sorry.”
“Then let me prove it to you. Please. I swear on my parents, my brother, on hockey, on everything I love,” I try reasoning. “Please believe me when I tell you I didn’t know.”
“You keep saying that, but you did, Oak. You told me you thought something was off, but you chose to sit on it.”
“Yes, but I didn’t know.”
“You just said—”
“No, I didn’t know, Quinn. I didn’t know it would matter to me when all was said and done. I didn’t know that I would care about what Braxton did or didn’t do because I didn’t know I would fall in love with you.”
The words fly from my mouth, and honestly, I don’t care if their presence destroys things more. I might’ve kept a massive secret from him about this whole shit with Braxton and his drug test, but to hell if I’m gonna keep how I feel about him to myself.
He’s in every beat of my heart. And he deserves to know that.
I blow out a breath, and scrub my hand over my face, a sense of irony hitting me right between the eyes. And I can’t help the sad, pathetic laugh breaking free when it does.
“That’s the most fucked up part of it all, though.
There you were, from the beginning, telling me not to fall in love with you.
But I did anyway. And if I’d listened to you, this wouldn’t hurt nearly as much.
Because it does hurt, knowing you don’t trust me.
Knowing I don’t deserve your trust anymore. ”
Every bottled up word and emotion comes spewing from my mouth in what can only be classified as word vomit, but I don’t care. I let it flow free, giving him all the little pieces I’ve been too busy keeping to myself when I should have been handing them over all along.
But I can see now, it’s too little, too late.
Quinn’s jaw ticks, blue eyes flaring behind his glasses. I’ve learned him well enough to know he’s holding something back. Keeping words to himself when I’d sell my soul to hear them. Ones I need to hear.
Even if it’s rage or hate. Even if he tells me to go kick rocks and never come back. Fucking anything would be preferable over silence.
At least, that way, I’d know I’ve destroyed what we had beyond repair.
But all I get is…nothing.
So rather than keep fighting a losing battle, I walk away; tiny pieces of my heart left in my wake as he does nothing to stop me.