Page 93 of Gorgeous

I laugh at her fake tears. “This is what you came here for, right? Vengeance?”

She’s shaking her head, her free hand pushing against my chest. “No,” she denies vehemently, the tears masking the smoke color I love so much. “I came here for you. To help you.”

A growl erupts out of me, the pressure from our hands becoming increasingly difficult to talk through. “Lies. It’s all lies. Everything about you is a lie,” I yell.

Her knees give way and she collapses, but I’m well past giving a fuck at this point. I make a tsking noise, yanking her back up. “Finish what you started. Tell me how much you hate me. Tell me what a coward I am. Tell me I’m a killer.”

Sobs rack through her entire body and my chest aches to comfort her, but I don’t because what we had was a lie.

A covert mission.

“No,” she argues, seemingly drawing strength from somewhere. “You will not do this to us.”

Us.There is nous.

“I killed him,” I grit out slowly so she understands. “You want to know how great of a hero I am, Brecklyn?” I spit her name like it’s poison. “While I was fucking the journalist, your brother was gasping for air.”

I let out a bitter laugh that doesn’t sound borderline crazy, and Breck sobs a painful sound. “I fucked her right where you saw me getting blown that day on the computer.” As soon as I saw his name on the dog tags, I remembered her. “I can’t even remember the journalist’s name. But I remember you. Your eyes, as you watched me come apart in her mouth. I wanted you. I wanted to see the blush on your cheeks glisten under my sweat. I wanted to wreck you.” I chuckle dryly, fingering a piece of her hair, the pain in her eyes gripping my heart. “But instead, you wrecked me.”

With the knife still at my throat, I continue on. “He” —I can’t even get the words out—“he called out to me in the rubble. Want to know what his last words were?” Now I’m just being mean. Bleeding my pain onto her innocence. “He said …”

A tear falls from my eye, and even though I’m being a total asshole, Breck still reaches for me with her free hand and says, “No matter what you say, I’m still with you. I’m strong enough for the both of us.”

The guilt eats at me as she stands in front of me, strong and defiant just like her damn brother. Relentless. “He said it was an honor to serve with you, Major.” She only lets one tear fall, and it pisses me off. “An honor?” I shout. “I sent my team on without me. I sent your brother,mybrother, to their deaths, Breck. All because I wanted pussy.”

She still doesn’t budge, her chin straight, her face strained. “You would have died, too,” she argues like she isn’t arguing with her brother’s killer.

I yank her closer, and she gasps from the shock. “I would have known to check the cabinets! It should have been me!” I yell to the senseless woman in front of me.

She whimpers but she doesn’t back down. “Don’t do this,” she begs. “I’m so sorry. I should have told you who I was.”

“You should have killed me when you had a chance,” I tell her, seconds from spiraling into a full-blown attack. My hands tremble over hers and I know if I don’t get out here right now, I will end up hurting someone.

“I won’t let you do this,” she challenges, trying to pull my hand from hers but failing.

I yank her closer. “Do it,” I beg. “Put me out of my misery. I killed your brother. I killed the only family you had.”

She cries out, shocking me out of the rage. “Help me!” she yells, her voice echoing in the small space. “Help me!” she calls out again.

I grit my teeth, the rage dissipating at her tears and cries for help. No matter how angry I am, I’m not for scaring women. Even the ones who lied and finally broke through my armor. “No one is coming, B. You had them all convinced that you loved me. They won’t bother us until the morning.” My voice is resigned, quiet even, as I let her hand go, flipping the blade back into the handle of the knife. “I’m sorry,” I tell her for the millionth time that I’ve known her. “You and your brother deserved so much better than me.”

Sighing, I place the dog tags in her hand, closing each of her fingers around them, honorably.

Her tears fall at a steady stream as she secures them in her palm. “Please don’t do this to us. I’m sorry for not telling you the truth.”

I swipe at the tears falling down her face, memorializing her. “I’m sorry, too,” I whisper with all the regret in the world.

I deserve this.

Falling in love with Brannon’s sister.

His warrior.

I turn and head out the door, not even turning around when she sobs, “I love you. I loved you before I even saw you. His letters. He spoke so highly of you.”

Does it feel like my chest is on fire? Absolutely, but even the pain doesn’t make me turn around.

I’m letting her go.

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