Page 63 of Full Throttle

What happened to be something beautiful ended in an all-consuming, inevitable tragedy for the of us.

Even though what we had felt like a ray of sunshine on my shitty life, I always felt the cloud lingering above us, ready to bring in a storm of tears and broken hearts. It killed me to walk away from her—both times.

It was necessary.

“Mina, I don’t know what the hell I fucking did. I know she was young, but I didn’t think it would’ve messed her up that much,” I told her truthfully. When Dominique looked at me with tears in her eyes the other day, I knew that something else was very wrong.

Mina’s head slowly tilted to the side once, more as if she was struggling to figure out the puzzle. “The last night you saw her was at The Pit?” she questioned.

“That’s what I just told you,” I deadpanned, my brows coming together as she bit the inside of her cheek, humming. “What aren’t you telling me?” I pressed once more.

She shook her head. “Cain, it's not my story to tell,” Mina said, sighing softly.

Oh for fuck’s—

Fine.

“Then answer me this; is she afraid of me?” I pushed out through clenched teeth, my stomach in knots as I braced for the answer.

“Why in the hell would you think that?”

I looked away from her then, moving across the room to the window. “I have my reasons,” I muttered. From behind me, I heard Mina rise from the couch and a second later, she was standing beside me.

“No, she isn’t afraid of you. She just needed to get away from you,” she told me.

Funny how things changed. I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t force the sound into existence. There was too much pain and anger surging through me. It’d been a long fucking week, and I was ready to get back to Oasis, but I needed to talk to her first. Twisting my neck, I looked at Mina. “Thank you for letting me into your home. I know it's late, and Cleo is sleeping,” I whispered.

Mina let out a breathy laugh. “You were planning on breaking in anyways. It was the least I could do.”

I felt my lips twitch. “Right.”

Mina’s eyes met mine. “You’re not leaving until you see her, are you?”

She knew I wasn’t. Still, I shook my head. She muttered something under her breath about stubborn men and turned away from me. “Her room is across the hall. Wait in there.”

As I watched her walk out down the hall, I did everything in my power to ignore the feeling stirring inside my chest. Then, with quiet steps, I made my way across the hall into the guest bedroom. The sight of Dominique’s bag on the chair in the corner had me clenching my jaw to the point of pain.

She was supposed to be with me.

She was supposed to be—

Shaking off my possessive thoughts, I took a seat on the edge of the bed, bracing my forearms on my thighs, my hands hanging between my knees. I heard a door from somewhere in the house open and shut as I focused on the floor, my muscles tense.

Five minutes later, the green-eyed girl who’d been haunting my dreams for decades emerged in the doorway, an angry scowl painted on her face.

“What are you doing here?” she practically hissed as she stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

“Seriously, Cain. What are you—”

“Are. You. Alright?” Each word came out deeper and harsher than the last as I shot to my feet, moving towards her. Her back was against the door, and I stopped a few inches from her.

The last thing I needed to fucking do was crowd her even more.

She flinched at my tone, her interrogation forgotten. “Yes,” she murmured. “I’m alright.”

She looked better, the best I’d seen her look since she was hospitalized. There was color in her cheeks, a gleam in her eyes, and her hair was braided over one shoulder. She looked good—relaxed.

---