Page 41 of Unmasked Anarchy
He slams his fist into the bricks, a short, mean punch that rattles the air.He steps in, pressing every inch of himself into me.“It is not over, Sable.”
I try to laugh but my throat closes, and something stings behind my eyes.“Yes, Gage.It is.”I try to shove him again, but it is pointless.“You ended it when you sunk your dick into two women.”
The air between us goes so silent it is terrifying.
I don’t know how he is going to react; his next move could be anything.Literally anything.
“I can’t—” He stops, his jaw tensing as he tries to find his words.“Fuck, I can’t watch you with him.I can’t—” His voice dies, and for a second, Gage’s eyes glisten, gone almost glassy.He wipes them hard with the heel of his palm and turns away, shoulders rising and falling with each shaky breath.
Oh god.
I have never seen emotion from this man.Not ever.
It crushes something inside me, a deep, aching pain that feels like it will never heal.It breaks me into a thousand tiny pieces for the man I so desperately wanted all these years, the one I clung to with both hands, hoping against hope that he could show me even an ounce of love.I want to reach for him.I want to run.I do neither.
I stand frozen, caught in the limbo of my own making, where hope and despair coexist in a delicate balance.The silence stretches between us, heavy with all the things left unsaid, and I wonder if he can feel the turmoil that rages inside me, the silent plea for something more, something real.But the moment passes, and I remain still, trapped in the prison of my own heart, waiting for a sign that may never come.
He finally looks back, and there’s a broken emptiness in his face that hurts.“Don’t do this, Sable.Don’t be with him.”
My voice comes out raw.“You made this choice, Gage.”
He shakes his head, at himself, at the ground, at everything unspoken.“I know.”Another tug of his hands in his hair.He looks wild now, untamed.
“I’ve always had your back.I have been so fucking loyal to you and your club.I was so grateful you saved me.But you could never give it back.You could never let me in.No matter how badly I wanted it.”My words pour out, a final, desperate attempt.
His head snaps up.“I can live with a lot of fuckin’ mistakes, but you bein’ with ...him...is not one I can live with.”
I should turn.I should bolt down the dirty street and never let him puncture me with words again.But I stay anchored.
“If you cared so much you wouldn’t have—”
He shoves me against the wall again, causing the breath to leave my lungs in a rush.“I never wanted anyone else.You think I don’t hate myself for what happened?”His hands grip my jaw, not rough, but unyielding.“You ruined me, Sable.A long fucking time ago.”
The old part of me, the one that wanted to believe every word he threw at me, rises to the surface, messy and frantic.“Then why couldn’t you just give me what I needed?”
He kisses me.It is not soft or slow, it’s hard and desperate.His mouth crushes mine, taking instead of asking, like he can drag out the last pieces of himself he left with me years ago.
My hands fist in his shirt, his heartbeat frantic beneath my palm.I fight him, because it’s what we do—it’s always been what we do.He doesn’t stop until I finally push him away, forcing the kiss to end even though a tiny piece of me wants it to go on forever.
“Don’t be with him, fuckin’ please,” he breathes into my mouth, words broken.
My throat burns.“I never thought I’d hear you beg, Gage.”
He laughs, a hollow and broken sound.“I’m asking.”
I want to tell him it’s too late, that he tore up everything that mattered and left me bleeding the floor.But all that comes out is my own laugh, so pathetic it sounds fake, even to me.
He closes the gap between our lips again, softer this time.For a brief second the world feels warm, and I fight to push back the memories of the man who saved my life all those years ago.
“Don’t do it, Sable,” he whispers, forehead pressed to mine.“Don’t make me live a life without you.”
I know he’ll never say it.Not the words I need.But his eyes say it, in the only language he’s ever spoken, anger, need, regret.God, it hurts.It fucking hurts.
He lets me go, stepping back.“I won’t let you go.Do you hear me?”
Then he walks away, boots crunching, leaving the air electrified and empty.
I stand there, back to the wall, the taste of him still on my lips.I am fighting a war within myself not to go after him.I want to, but I don’t.
