Page 114 of The Pass Protection
“Rebel.”
Her eyes snap to mine, red-rimmed and pooled with tears. No more words are said as we continue to stare at each other.
Even without words, I can feel the cathartic release the game has brought her. If this were the end of us, at least I would know I gave her this. I could help carry the load for a short time when the world felt too heavy for her shoulders.
Bret’s emerald eyes feel like home as I stare at her. Soaking in every single detail. The gold flecks around her green irises, the freckles spread over her flawless face, and her plump lips I’ve kissed so many times. Everything around us has faded away.
It’s just her and I.
The game was never a game to us. It was always something more profound. A way to prove our connection, loyalty, and unspoken bond that called to each other last Christmas. It’s been almost a year since she stepped foot into my life. Three-hundred and sixty days of waiting for the time when I got to call her mine.
Bret Campbell is the other half of my soul.
Our destiny was forged long before we met. It’s as if the universe has always known we are meant to be. Everything in our lives has been a stepping stone to our union.
And in a blink, everything changed.
“I love you, Rebel.” The words are soft as her eyes widen, and we both rise to our full height. I reach my hands out, nearly chest to chest until they cup her slender, delicate jaws. “I love you more than I have the words for. You’re hurting, and I wish I could take it all away. If I could reach inside your beautiful head, I would pluck out each negative thought that is tearing down my girl. I would rip apart every person who dared to hurt the woman I love. I would destroy the world and never blink twice if only I could have my Rebel back.”
Tears stream down her pretty face as a rope tightens around my lungs, forcing the air out as fear and insecurity creep in. Words have never been my strong suit. Confessing how I feel has always been a challenge as I struggle to relay my thoughts in a way that makes sense to others. But today, I’ll try. I reach inside my soul and will the words to come to the surface. I take my last shot to bring my girl home to me.
“From the moment we looked at each other, I felt a connection to you. It’s as if your soul called to mine. You being here felt like we had a real shot at pursuing my feelings, that spark whenever I’m around you. Watching the light come back in your eyes has been a blessing to witness. Your heart is pure, your mind brilliant, and your energy addictive.”
Clearing the emotion from my throat, I run my thumbs over her cheeks, wiping away the tears. My chest cracks as I watch her cry.
“You’ve been through unimaginable things no one should ever have to endure. You’ve trusted and been burned, but I promise with all of my being, you can trust me with your heart. I’ll protect you. I’ll worship you. I’ll never stop proving how much I love you and how lucky I am to have you in my life. Let me carry some of the load. Let me love you, Bret. Please come home.”
Her expression flickers with a thousand unspoken emotions, a mixture of shock, love, and something deeper, more conflicted. Her swollen lips part, and I wait for the words to come, but they never do. It’s as if she’s at war with her heart and her mind. The emerald-green eyes I love to admire blink rapidly as she fights to keep the tears at bay. Her movements never sway as she stands firmly in place, not giving anything away.
The love is there—I feel it and see it in her softened gaze.
But it’s not enough.
I see the tension in her shoulders as the war rages and her mind wins. A cold chill sweeps through me as if she’s reached inside and ripped out my beating heart. The same heart that only beats for her. Bile rises as I fight the nausea of being vulnerable. For opening my heart and spilling my soul, I know I’ve lost her even before she says anything.
Bret glances away briefly, and when her gaze finds mine again, it’s filled with sadness as she steps back. My hands slip from her face as I’m desperate to feel her again. Fingers twitching as she slowly pulls away, creating space between us as I realize she’s not ready. She needs more time—time I didn’t want to give her—but if I want her, and I do, I have to give her space to continue her journey. I can only hope she doesn’t forget about me along the way.
“I love you, Crew. I love you so much,” she chokes over her emotions. “But I have to put my past to rest. I can’t move forward with you if I’m afraid of my own shadow. I have to end it.”
“Let me help you.”
Her face softens, giving me a pitying smile that I hate. “Thank you for offering, but I have to do this alone. I promise I’ll come back to you when I’m free.”
I stand there in an empty gymnasium as I watch the girl I love turn on her heels, grab her things, and rush out of the door. She never looksback. And I’m stuck wishing to go back in time. To a time when only we were there, wrapped in each other’s arms, tangled in my bed.
Gathering up the pieces of my shredded heart, I take the first step forward.
The first step without her.
The last forty-eight hours have been the longest two days of my life. After Crew showed up at the court, and we played our dueling one-on-one game, I left with an emotional hangover. The numbness threatened to consume me, but I pushed with all my might to keep my head above water. Crew’s confession played on a loop in my mind. The sincerity in his words and the vulnerability in his voice meant everything to me. Each time my fingers twitched to pick up the phone to call him, something held me back like an invisible wall made of everything I hadn’t resolved yet.
Telling Crew I needed more time and couldn’t go home with him nearly destroyed me. The look of mourning that crossed his beautiful features nearly had me crumbling to the ground at his feet and begging for forgiveness. I wanted to take back everything and pray for him to welcome me home, but I knew I had to end things with Chad. I had to fight for my freedom, and I hoped Crew would still be waiting for me when everything was finished.
I wanted desperately to tell him my plan, but fear kept the words inside in case anything went off script. I didn’t want to get his hopes up only to have them crash down around him, especially with the team leaving for Vegas to play in their bowl game.
When the silence became deafening, I kept telling myself to keep pushing forward. Even though I was causing him pain, it was pain Ihoped he would forgive me for later. When the dust settles, it will only be him and me—the two of us for the rest of time.
Glancing at my phone, I realize I’ve probably missed the entire first quarter of the bowl game. My flight from Arizona to Vegas was delayed. Not to mention, the airports were packed with people traveling for Christmas.
