Chapter 10 #2
I grip the edge of her stool and give a gentle tug.
She spins to face me, one arm braced on the bar, the other falling to her lap.
My knees frame her, the space between us vanishing as I slide her closer.
The scent of wine mingles with her perfume, warm and sweet, invading the air between us.
Her pulse jumps at the base of her throat, and I swear it’s matching the rhythm of my own.
It’s dizzying, the way everything else fades.
My thoughts unravel, leaving nothing but the pull of her, the want and need.
For a second, I completely forget why we’re here.
“Tell me why,” she whispers into the space between us.
My mind snaps back, reality crashing over me like cold water.
I stare at her, at the understanding in her eyes.
She knows this isn’t easy for me. Over the years, she’s been the one I’ve leaned on through the grief of losing Mom.
I’ve told little bits of how hard I tried to shield Halle from our stepdad, how his cruel words would cut through her like glass.
How I would step in, distract him away from her.
She reaches out, her palm warm against my cheek. I lean into her touch, letting it quiet the growing panic of the past creeping up inside me. Her thumb traces the edge of my brow, soft and careful like she always has, and I suck in sharp breath.
“Have I ever told you how I got that scar?” I ask her, my voice barely steady as her thumb lingers over the small dent at the end of my brow.
“No.” She shakes her head slightly.
“I was fifteen…” I trail off, the memory dragging me under.
His stale beer breath hits my face as he backs me up against the kitchen table.
Spit flies with every word, his voice slurred and mean.
The red lines in his eyes look like lightning bolts tonight—sharp, jagged—and I wonder how much he’s had to drink.
His round belly presses into me, trapping me in place.
I turn my face away, biting back the words that burn at the back of my throat.
“Don’t you fucking look away from me when I’m talking to you!” he yells, his face turning redder with every passing second.
The taste of copper fills my mouth as I bite down on the inside of my cheek.
Yelling back only makes it worse. Fighting back only gives him another excuse, another reason to take it out on Mom or Halle.
I can’t let that happen. I just need to wait a little longer.
Save a little more. Keep my head down until I can get out of here and set up a new life for us all.
“Did you fucking hear me, boy?” His hand fists the front of my shirt, pulling me in close. So close, I can feel the rage rolling off him.
My eyes snap to his, and I nod. I know what’s coming next, but luck’s on my side tonight. Halle’s already asleep. I made sure of it before the bastard even realized we were home. Mom’s at work, and he’s too drunk to do any real damage. At least, that’s what I tell myself.
“My dinner isn’t fucking cooked. My beer isn’t fucking cold. What good are you if you can’t follow simple instructions?” he spits, words slurring.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” I manage, my tongue heavy in my mouth. His breath is lingering now—stale beer, cigarettes, and bitterness—and it takes everything in me not to gag on the smell.
“Yeah, you fucking will be,” he snarls. “Maybe I’ll go get your sister, tell her she has to do your fucking jobs.”
The mention of Halle snaps something in me.
Panic floods my veins before I realize I’m moving.
My hands slam into his chest, shoving with everything I’ve got.
Anger coils hot and fast, my vision tunneling until all I see is red.
It all blurs. His eyes turn wide, teeth bared, and then I’m gone, sinking into that black place where I don’t feel, where the light turns off.
The back of his hand connects with my cheek, the sudden crack splintering above the sound of the TV.
My head jerks sideways, stars burning behind my eyes.
Tears sting as I clutch my face at the same time he fists the back of my neck, yanking me forward.
My feet catch. The world tilts. There’s a split-second thought to throw my hands out, but it’s gone before I can react.
My temple collides with the corner of the counter.
White-hot pain shoots through my skull, and a low groan rips from my throat as my hand flies to the side of my head.
“Look at what you’ve gone and done now,” he spits at me.
The smell of copper invades my nose. My fingers are wet and tacky.
The low hum of the TV seems too far away, white dots swarm at the edges of my vision, and my stomach clenches.
My pulse hammers, my muscles tighten. Every instinct screams to fight back.
Instead, I shrink. I curl in on myself and whimper while inside of me simmers.
One day, I’ll kill this bastard, I think, blind with heat.
Not today. Not like this. I’m too small, too useless right now, and I won’t leave Halle here like this. Not yet. One day, though. One day.
“Clean this mess up and get out of my fucking sight!” Ray screams.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. If it’s too much, you don’t have to tell me now.” Madison’s soft voice pulls me from the haze of my past.
My breath drags rough through my lungs, the edges of the memory still suffocating me.
The whiskey glass digs into my palm, my grip so tight that my knuckles scream.
Bit by bit, the bar starts to come back into focus: the low light, the hum of the fridge, the way her hand hasn’t moved from my cheek.
Taking in a deep breath, I force myself to meet her eyes.
The words come out rough: how I got the scar, what it felt like, the kind of helplessness that sits in your bones long after the bruises fade.
My voice cracks when I tell her it wasn’t the first time Ray came at me.
It wasn’t the first time I patched myself up and pretended it didn’t hurt.
My leg bounces uncontrollably, and before I can get another word out, her hands are on my knees, pressing down, steadying me before I fall too far.
“That’s enough,” she says softly, sadness pooling in her eyes.
“There’s more,” I murmur, my throat tight.
“But Madison, please know that I didn’t reach out because I was drowning in my past. I didn’t want to drag you under with me.
I didn’t want you anywhere near that town.
I didn’t want you near him. I had to face it alone.
And I know if I’d told you everything, your stubborn, sexy ass would have followed me anyway. ”
Her jaw tightens, her voice sharp. “You don’t know that. I could have still supported you from here. You could’ve still checked in with me.”
“Come on, Madi.” I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “You’ve been in my corner since the day we met. You were there when I got the call about Mom, and every damn anniversary since, every letter I wrote to Halle. There’s no world where you wouldn’t have dropped everything for me.”
Something flickers behind her eyes, realization maybe, and I know in that moment, she gets it. She knows I’m right. I rest my hands over hers, giving them a gentle squeeze.
Her shoulders drop, a quiet surrender. “You’re right. I was so consumed by you that I would have dropped everything,” she admits.
“Was?” I arch a brow at her, teasing, even though the past tense makes my stomach twist.
“Okay,” she breathes, slipping her hands back and twisting them together. “Since we’re being honest with each other tonight, there’s something I need to say.”
“Don’t hold back,” I tell her.
“I understand what you were fighting now. And God, I wish you had just been more open with me.” Her voice trembles, but she keeps going.
“The thing I’ve learned over the last six months is that you consumed every part of me.
Everything I had was holding out and waiting for you, Hunter.
And somewhere along the way, I became reliant on you.
When you left, it nearly broke me. It was so hard, and I don’t ever want to be that girl again.
The one who only knows who she is because of a boy. ”
Something in my chest fractures at her words, a dull burn pressing against my ribs.
I never wanted to be the reason her light dimmed.
Reaching across the small space between us, I take her hand, brushing my thumb along her skin.
Her other hand lifts her glass, and she takes a long sip of her wine, her throat moving slowly as she swallows.
“I forgive you for ghosting me,” she says, a small laugh escaping her, light but fragile. It pulls one from me, too, tangled with relief and regret.
I stay quiet, letting her have the floor. I want her to get every word out, every thought she’s held back. I know we won’t get a quiet moment alone like this again, and if this is where we finally lay it all out, I’m not wasting a second of it by interrupting.
“But…” She exhales slowly, eyes darting down to where our hands still touch.
“I’m not all in, and I don’t want you waiting for me.
I need to find myself without you. I need to be the Madison I’ve always been, not the version that uses you as a crutch.
I’m not saying we can’t be friends, or that I don’t want to talk or hang out.
I just…” She pauses, her eyes meeting mine again.
“I can’t do the late-night drives, the sneaking around, the touches. I can’t do that anymore.”
She’s asking me not to wait for her, but how the hell am I supposed to do that?
Every part of me already belongs to her.
I’ll wait. For as long as it takes. I’ll show her who I can be.
Prove to her that I’ll stand beside her, not in front of her.
The man who’ll fight like hell to deserve her.
I’ll give her everything I’ve got. I can be a patient man.
The silence surrounding us is thick and heavy, weighing us down.
It ripples with all the words neither of us is saying.
My pulse kicks in my throat as my thumb slides under her chin.
I tilt her face up until our eyes lock. Fuck, I love her eyes.
For a second, time stills. My gaze roams over her features, slow and deliberate, burning them into my memory.
The curve of her lips, her full cheeks, the arches of her brows.
If this is all I get for now, I’m going to make damn sure I remember every inch of her.
“I’ll give you your time, baby girl,” I say softly, the words strained. Her breath catches at the nickname, the one I’ve always used in private just for her. “I need you to know I want the whole world for you. If being your friend is all I get, then so be it.”
Her eyes shine in the low light. “I’d like that. I want to stay friends. I just need my space to be me again without the pressure of you waiting. Please.”
Hearing the word please fall from her lips does me in. I’ll give this girl anything she asks for. She has no idea how easy it is for her to undo me.
“So it’s settled,” I say, forcing a half smile. “We’re staying friends.”
The tension between us intensifies as if the universe itself is holding its breath. This isn’t the end, it’s the calm before the inevitable.
“Friends,” she whispers.
I push up from my stool, the wood scraping against the floor, and step into her space. My hands find her face, palms warm against her soft skin, thumbs brushing slow circles along her cheeks. “Friends,” I hum, my eyes bouncing between hers, “when we walk out of here.”
Her chin tips up, lips parting just enough for her tongue to sweep across the bottom one, and I’m gone.
Every bit of control I’ve been clinging to slips through me as I unravel.
The emotion between us cackles, the air coming alive with sparking electricity.
Heat pools low in my stomach, spreading through me like a wildfire.
My hands slide into her hair, fingers threading through the soft, wavy strands, tugging her close enough to feel her breath mingle with mine.
When her quiet sigh spills against my lips, I lean in, capturing the sound with my mouth, pressing into her like I’ve been starved.
She melts into me. A low growl breaks free as the taste of her floods my senses.
Her hands wind around my neck, fingers digging into my skin, and before I can stop myself, I’m lifting her from the stool.
Her legs wrap around my waist like they were made to fit there.
I spin, carefully setting her on the bar as I break the kiss long enough to breathe her in.
Our foreheads rest together, hearts beating in sync, when I lean back in for another.
We don’t rush. We move slowly, knowing this is the last…
A promise. A confession. A silent I’ll wait anyway.