Page 24 of Tactical Lies

“I know you are, Connor.”

“Everything I felt bubbled over that night, and I didn't think I could take on another blow. I should have been there. I never should have walked away, not even for a second. I should have been there for you and our son. For your son even if he wasn't mine.”

“Connor.” Her hands pressed against his chest and pushed until he loosened his hold enough that she could look up at him. “I get it. I always did. You held all your emotions in because you were prioritizing mine, it was one blow too many. Asking you to raise my rapist’s child would have been a lot. That all makes sense. I never resented you for having a breakdown. You were overdue because you held it all in for four months. I've been angry, yes, but beneath that, it’s damaged trust and resentment. You got to do what I couldn’t. You got to run. Even for a little while. I never got that luxury, and that you did, that’s what cuts the deepest because it felt like you took something else from me, that once again I didn't get to be in control of my own life.”

Dropping to his knees before her, Connor pressed his face to her stomach. So flat and smooth. A reminder of what he’d missed out on. If the baby had survived, he had no doubt Becca would have raised it on her own and he would have missed out on twelve years of his son’s life.

There would have been no one to blame but himself.

“If he’d lived, I would have told you, Connor,” Becca said as though reading his mind. “I wouldn't have kept your son from you no matter how angry I was with you.”

Wrapping his arms around her waist he kept his face to her stomach and touched soft kisses there. Willing them to travel back through time to the tiny baby boy that had once called it home.

“I'm never going to be good enough for you,” he whispered.

“It’s not about being good enough or not good enough. I just don’t trust you anymore, Connor. I still needed you, and even though I get why you lost it and left that night it doesn’t mean it didn't hurt. Doesn’t mean that now I won't always wonder if it will happen again.”

Always sounded so definitive.

So hopeless.

“I never stopped loving you, Becca. I never stopped wanting you. Never stopped regretting leaving that night instead of staying and talking it through with you.” It was time to lay himself bare, lay out all his cards and place them on the table so there was nothing more between them. “I never stopped wishing for another chance. Is it too late, Becca, or can you give me a chance to prove to you I can be the man you always deserved?”

August 18th

3:27 A.M.

Her heart hammered so hard in her chest, it felt like a hammer knocking against her aching ribs.

Becca knew what Connor was really asking even if he couldn’t outright say the words.

A second chance.

Connor was asking if she’d date him again and see if they could reclaim what they’d lost.

Never had she expected that to be on the table.

The night he ran out of their apartment, claiming there was no way he could raise her rapist’s baby, she had resigned herself to the fact that the dreams she’d had about her future were never going to become a reality. All these years, she’d done whatever she had to do to move on including dating other men and accepting a marriage proposal from one of them.

It was now, in this moment, when her blood-covered warrior knelt before her, bruises evident on the parts of his face she could see that weren't pressed against her stomach, that she realized marrying another man would have been a mistake. It wouldn't have been fair to him when she still had unresolved feelings for Connor.

But could she give him a second chance?

Honestly, she wasn't sure.

Before she could say anything, the body of the man who had come so close to raping her groaned, and her fingers quickly curled into Connor’s T-shirt.

“H-he’s still a-alive,” she stammered. By the time she’d finally snapped out of the haze of watching the man she’d loved beating on her would-be assailant and managed to get him to stop, Becca had been fairly certain the man was already dead.

Giving her one last squeeze, she could have sworn he dragged in a deep breath of her scent—which could not be considered pleasant after two full days since she last bathed—he pushed to his feet.

For a moment, she wondered if he was angry with her for not answering, but his gaze was soft and full of emotions, and she refused to allow herself to accept for fear of getting hurt again. Pressing a kiss to her forehead that had her lips tingling, begging for one more reminder of what Connor tasted like, he then moved to crouch beside her attacker.

“I should try to get some answers from him before I kill him,” Connor said, so matter of fact, her mouth dropped open in surprise. She’d seen him kill several times now, and it didn't make her afraid of him in any way, although it did make her aware of how strong and powerful he was, it was just this was a side of Connor she’d never seen before.

It highlighted how much of one another’s lives they’d missed out on.

That made her sad.

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