Page 109 of Boots & Scars

"With all due respect, he didn't take advantage of me," Everly said firmly.

My father placed his hand on Everly's shoulder. "Maybe you didn't realize it," he said, his voice dripping with condescension, "but my son doesn't actually commit?—"

Before he could finish, I moved on instinct. My fist connected with his jaw in a swift, brutal motion. "Don't touch her," I growled.

He staggered back, shock flashing across his face.

"I wanted it," Everly said, her voice cutting through the tension.

"You don't know what you want," my father spat back. "How can you if you don't know things?"

"I know your son," she countered. "And he's not a monster. He's not a cheater. And he's not violent."

"He just hit me," my father pointed out.

"He's protecting me," she shot back. "Just like he protected his ex during his game. He's loyal. And that's why he told you about his own mother. He was trying to protect you. You just didn't appreciate everything he is."

"And you do?" my father asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"I love him," Everly declared.

The words hit me like a freight train, my heart clenching painfully. It was the same every time I heard them.

"You don't know what love is," my father retorted dismissively.

"So I've been told," she replied coolly. "Good thing I know myself better than anyone else." She stepped closer to him, unyielding in her stance. "You owe him an apology."

"Everly," I interjected softly, trying to calm the escalating situation.

"No," she said firmly, not taking her eyes off my father. "You were a bad father to him."

"I'm not going to apologize," he said flatly. His gaze hardened as he looked between us.

"Then, I feel sorry for you," Everly said. "You're going to miss out on getting to know your son."

"You should leave," I muttered. "And do us all a favor and don't come back until you're ready to have a conversation about… about everything."

My father said nothing but took his leave, not looking back.

When he was gone, I took hold of her wrist. "Killer," I murmured, unable to mask the admiration in my voice.

She looked down at my fingers wrapped around her wrist, eyes softening.

Without warning, I dropped to my knees, pressing my head against her chest. I couldn't bring myself to say the words I needed to, but I had to let her know how sorry I was for all of it.

She ran her fingers through my hair, nails scraping my scalp in a way that soothed the turmoil inside me.

"Please," I murmured. I never begged. Never. But right now, I'd do anything for her.

She gave me a long look before leaning down and kissing me. My hands tangled in her hair as the kiss deepened. It was raw and consuming, filled with everything we couldn't put into words. Her lips were soft but insistent, moving against mine with a desperate urgency.

There was only Everly—her warmth, her scent, the way she fit perfectly against me. Each kiss seemed to draw us closer, pulling us into a whirlwind of emotions too intense to name.

Her fingers gripped my hair tighter, and I responded by holding her even closer. The kiss turned passionate, a mingling of need and relief that left us both breathless.

For a moment, nothing else mattered but this—us—wrapped up in a connection that felt unbreakable.

When we finally pulled apart, I stared up at her. The Zamboni hummed in the background and the fluorescent lights glowed behind her like she was a fucking angel, sent to this earth just for me. And before I could stop them, the words came out of my mouth like a prayer. "I love you too, killer."

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