Page 125 of A Curse On Black Lake
“It won’t do anything. It won’tchangeanything.”
“But it might make you feel better,” I offer.
His eyes lift to mine, and they are full of so much pain and betrayal that my body physically hurts under his scrutiny.
He is hurting, child.The Spirits say.
I’m trying to help ease the pain. That’s all I want to do for him.I tell them.
Go to him. Let him feel that you care.
Taking the last few steps between us, I grab his face and pull it to mine, kissing him fiercely. I do care. I care so much it hurts me. The Spirits go silent, and I give my all to him in that moment, hoping he feels it too.
He grunts, and I push harder, grazing his tongue with mine. With my other hand, I push his chest back, forcing him to sit and stand between his legs. His hands slide up the backs of my thighs, and I slow down, pressing small kisses over his face.
He leans out of my touch, and his hands drop from my thighs.
“I can’t do this,” he rasps.
My heart drops. That’s not what he meant, right? That can’t possibly be what he’s saying to me.
“Please, I need to be alone,” he rasps.
I press my hand to my chest because I think my heart is falling out of the open hole.Again.I’m too shocked to snap back, but it doesn’t matter. It won’t ease the hurt of being pushed away by the only person on the planet that claims to care about me.
“Please go. I don’t want you here,” he says.
“You can’t mean that,” I say on the edge of tears.
He looks up with eyes so cold they frost my heart. “I do,” he says.
“If that’s what you want,” I whisper and leave his room.
Storming down the stairs, I grab his truck keys, my boots, and leave the ranch.
He wants to be alone. Then he can be alone without his truck.
When I pull into my driveway, I sit in his truck, that smells like him. And reminds me of the healing we were beginning to achieve together.
Forcing myself out, I unlock my front door and take off my boots, headed straight for my garden. It won’t hurt to check things out, but I need to be outside. I need to breathe the fresh air, get my hands in the dirt. Maybe sketch, that would help. It usually does. The Spirits are taming themselves to a dull roar in the back of my head, likely sensing how utterly overwhelmed and sad I am.
Flipping the deadbolt to the back door, I open it, and what I see brings me to my knees.
Unknown
Her tears are beautiful.
She cries in the dirt with the present I left her.
It’s risky to be here during the day, but I couldn’t help myself. I had to see her face.
My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. It’s a small reprieve from the rage I feel seeing her withhim. It doesn’t matter though. I will make it all better, but she has to hurt first.
Our time will come…
Chapter forty-two
Killian
