Page 72 of Immortal Bastard

If his words were meant to comfort her, they epically failed. She was a holy piece of meat. “So, it has nothing to do with me then, just the fact that I’m ‘The One’.” She made air quotes, her detached expression and indifferent attitude the total opposite of the hurt that hid inside.

“You’re fulfilling your purpose. As am I.”

His words further insulted her as they removed all accountability on his part. He hadn’t hit on her because of attraction or desire, she had been a source, an ingredient, a dehumanized puzzle piece he needed so he could form a bigger picture. His apathy landed a lot like rejection, and she hated that his lack of culpability could sting. Not because he’d caused massive upheaval in her life, but because some pathetic part of her wanted him to care—about her.

But he didn’t. He only cared about his stupid God and their destined bond. And why the hell did she care anyway? He was a psycho. A liar. Not anyone she’d choose.

But how would she survive without him? Even now, despising him as deeply as she did, she scrimmaged with the fear of losing him. Was this Stockholm syndrome?

No, he’d done nothing to endear her. She hated him.

Or did she?

Fuck! He was giving her emotional whiplash.

Every feeling he stirred battled a completely contradicting response. Self-constructed delusions. Artificial symptoms of a link they shared. It meant nothing if they had no real connection and that bothered her. But more than that, it bothered her that it bothered her. She was losing her mind.

“Delilah, there’s something I must ask you.”

His tone was not taunting or playful, and that scared her. “What?”

“What is…B-T-dubs?”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed. Her humor was so out of place in that heavy moment that she squealed for breath, tears squeezing from her eyes and a cramp forming in her side. She doubled over, holding her stomach, and let the sound carry her away. It was the perfect outlet.

“Is it a swear I’m not familiar with?”

More laughter poured out of her. The levity of the moment relieved some of the tension, and she was grateful for his curiosity. “It’s by the way.”

He waited. “By the way…?”

“That’s what B-T-dubs means—by the way—B.T.W.”

His eyes moved as he considered her explanation then he laughed too. It was an endearing sound, one she didn’t want to enjoy as deeply as she did.

Their eyes met and they both smiled. The moment softened as time wrapped in an ephemeral cloud—intimate and secure. Just the two of them.

When had he closed the distance? She should step back, but a greater part of her wished to stay. Perhaps she even wished he would come closer.

His hand turned as the backs of his fingers gently trailed down her cheek. The soft pad of his thumb brushed away a tear. “You’ll discover there’s much to enjoy once you get on with your grief so that we can get on with our lives.”

His words knocked the breath out of her and the endearing truce vanished. “Get on with my grief? Is that what you just said to me?”

The mirth in his eyes disappeared when he realized his overstep, but he didn’t apologize. “This unnecessary hostility between us has gone on long enough.”

“It’s been a few days! You stole my life!” She shoved his touch away. “And now I’m stuck with you for the rest of my life—which, B-T-dubs, is eternity, you insensitive dick!”

His jaw hardened. “Then let’s have it.”

“Have what?”

He extended his arms as if opening himself up in surrender to a firing squad. “Unburden yourself. Whatever you have to say, I accept. I’ll absorb your fury, relieve your fears, comfort your sorrow—”

“I don’t want you to do any of that!”

“You don’t have to navigate life alone anymore. I’m here to serve and protect you. It’s my greatest duty and honor.”

She flung the wooden box on the nightstand at him. He dodged the assault and the case smashed into a dozen pieces as silver straight pins rained onto the floor. “Did it ever occur to you that I liked being alone?”

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