Page 86 of Dismantle & Prevail
As I step foot in the doorway, Reagan and Tucker’s heads pop up. Their eyes are bloodshot, and a somber feeling is palpable in the room.
“Hey Ari. Not to be an asshole, but if you’re here to watch your girl, maybe wash the blood off first?” Reagan says, drawing my attention downward.
I let out a sigh of annoyance and head into the bathroom attached to my bedroom, and quickly change. Once again, scrubbing my hands and face until they ache.
Glancing up, I see a man I know all too wellbut wish I didn’tin the reflection. One that is full of sorrow and heartbreak.
It's all my fault.
The love of my life almost died because some psycho in a mask has some unknown vendetta against me. Being with me almost killed her.
I should let her go. I should send her somewhere safe and far away from me.
But I can’t because I’m a selfish son of a bitch.
I need Taylor like I need air in my lungs. She is my everything and the thought of not having her next to me feels like a knife to the heart.
Pulling my hair into a bun, I make sure all the blood is off my face and out of my hair.
As I step back in my room, Reagan and Tucker both press a kiss to Taylor’s cheek. They stop to give me a hug on the way out before quietly shutting the door.
A heavy silence hangs in the air as I stand at the end of the bed, staring at Taylor. Strands of her long dark hair falling in her face, as she lies practically comatose in the center of the mattress.
For a moment, I become mesmerized by the steady rise and fall of her chest.
She’s alive.
The need to touch her overwhelms me and I move to sit in the chair that Reagan just vacated, sitting snugly against the king size bed.
Grasping her cool, pale hand in mine, I bring it to my lips. A wave of emotion crashes over me and my shoulders shudder as cries overtake my entire body.
Kissing her hand with my tear covered lips, I mutter, “I’m so sorry, Butterfly. It’s all my fault. I will never forgive myself, but I promise I will spend the rest of my existence making it up to you.”
My head drops and I bring her hand with me, unable to stop touching her for even a second.
“I’m so sorry. I love you.”
I repeat the same six words over and over, my throat feeling like I swallowed sand paper as time passes by in a blur.
I cry for almost losing Taylor. I cry for the countless Braveheart members that almost died because of me. I cry for the screaming fact that if Taylor was gone, I truly would have no one left in this world to love.
For someone that lives in a house full of people, I never felt more lonely. That is until Taylor opened her heart and showed me what it was like to have someone by my side.
“I love you too, Ace.”
My head pops up and I stare wide eyed at a smiling Taylor.
Rubbing my eyes with one hand, the other still gently gripping hers, I blink a few times.
I’m dreaming. I must be. This must be some delusion of my messed up mind playing a nasty trick on me.
A small laugh followed by a wince escapes her. “You’re not dreaming. I’m here.”
A relieved chuckle escapes me, and I slump forward onto the mattress.
She’s alive.
Taylor’s hand brushes through my hair, dislodging it from the bun, and I sit up.
