Page 27 of Renegade Ruin

I was an ass. I pushed her away on the plane before I gave into the need to get lost in her presence. Because it’s not real. She’s not real. What we had before is now nothing but a daydream. That doesn’t mean we aren’t insanely compatible. We are. Chemistry has never been our problem. Fuck. She tasted as pure as I remember. Like stepping out into an empty stadium before a big game, all nerves and excitement. But it’s not real. And I made sure she knew that with my dickish words.

Yet here she is.

“What happened?” Willow gasps, leaning in to get a closer look at my palm.

I look down numbly at where she’s taken my hand in hers. It’s bleeding again.

She turns around and digs in her purse, procuring a Band-Aid which she quickly opens and uses to cover the cut.

As soon as she’s done, I snatch my hand back and hold it against my chest. My eyes fall to the ugly mosaic tile on the floor. “Please go.”

“What happened?” she repeats, this time a little more forcefully.

My pulse pounds in my throat, resulting in my voice becoming unsteady. “I need you to go.”

“I’m not leaving,”Willow says defiantly. She shifts her weight, shoving her knees forward so they interlock with mine.Her hand raises and she uses her fingers to lift my chin, so my gazemeets glittering blue ones. It’s in moments like these, like on the plane, laced in panic and fear, with a hint of self-loathing that it’s hard to see the person she’s become. When she looks at me like she is right now, I can almost believe she cares.

“Please,” I beg, something I never do, but desperate times call for desperate measures. “I don’t want you here.”

She huffs a challenging laugh, and it might’ve warmed my heart in any other situation. “I’m done caring what you want.”

Fuck, I just need her to go. Leave. I don’t want to talk.

“You don’t have to.”

Shit, now I can’t even tell what I’m saying out loud verses in my head. Maybe I am going crazy.

Her fingers trace the stubble on my jaw before sliding up, cupping my jaw. I lean into her touch, soft and delicate. Every moment she’s got her hands on me, I lose a little of my resolve to throw her out. The problem is, I don’t know what happens if she stays. I can’t trust her. And I don’t trust myself.

I open my mouth to tell her to go, but before I can, she whispers, “What do you need?”

My mouth gapes like a fish out of water, struck stupid by the question. It’s the first time anyone has asked me that. They always ask if I’m okay. Or tell me what I should do, how I should feel. It’s not that simple.

Willow sees that.

Before I can stop myself, my brain short circuits and word vomit takes hold. “I just want to be okay.”

A weak smile tips her lips. “Okay is overrated.”

“Says the woman who has it all together.”

She shrinks back like I’ve slapped her. And a hint of something new flashes across her face. Anger. “Is that what you think?”

It catches me off guard. Aside from the obvious, what does she have to be angry about? She’s got it all figured out. She’s playing the game and winning.

Then again, if she’s angry, then she’ll leave. So, of course, I poke the bear. “Sure as hell seems like it.”

Willow sits with my words for a second before her gaze falls and she lets out a weighted sigh. “Then you don’t know me. Maybe you never did.”

“You’re right.”

She leans back on her heels, creating the space I desperately need. At this point, I just need to push a little more and she’ll leave. Shit, when did I become an expert in pushing people away? This isn’t who I am. I’ve always been an open book. I don’t hurt people—I welcome them. I was walking fucking sunshine.

You do what you have to in order to survive.

Tommy’s right. That’s all I’ve been able to do for the last four months. Survive. I’m sick of surviving, but I don’t know how to do much more.

Despite the war going on in my mind between who I was and who I’ve become, I open my mouth to tell her again to leave, but Willow beats me to speak.

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