Havoc climbs off the bed, still looking ridiculously out of place in my pink paradise of a bedroom. He scans around for his pants, angry for no reason. “Not doing what? I told you, it’s nothing. Just stupid bullshit.”
After a few more seconds, he tosses his hands up in defeat and drops on the edge of the bed. He plants his elbows on his knees and scratches his hands over his scalp. Then brings them down to cover his face.
That’s when I realize he isn’t choosing this reaction. It’s ingrained in him and not a choice.
“Oh, really?” I crawl over to him and whisper into his ear, “Then why are you angry?”
He turns and narrows his haunted eyes on me. “Fine. You want to know?”
“Yes, please, because this…” I motion between us. “Isn’t whatweare. Not anymore. I won’t allow it.”
He stands and walks backward, his beautiful mouth twisted in a bitter smirk. “Allow it? That’s ballsy.” Then he lifts a single brow and locks his gaze on me, and for the first time since I’ve known this man, there’s fear reflected in them. “I said I fucking love you.”
I climb off the bed and have to follow him across the room because he keeps backing away from me. He finally collides with the wall. I rise on my tiptoes and place a soft kiss on his lips. “You promised to keep me together. And I promise I’ll never break your heart.”
Havoc wraps his arms around me and gives me a hard squeeze. “I’m a miserable motherfucker,” he rasps in my ear.
“And I’m spoiled,” I admit.
He shoves me away and sneers as he surveys my room. “I won’t live here.”
I’m sorry, but that makes me laugh. “This might surprise you, but I love Mayhem, and I’d never ask you to give up the Unholy. They’re your family. It’s who you are.” I step back and glance at my room. “Also, I hate the color pink.”
He huffs out a nasty laugh. Then he closes his eyes, his expression agonized. When he reopens them, a world of repressed emotion is reflected in them. “How the hell do we make this work?”
I stroke his cheek. “We’ll find a way.”
A muscle tics in his jaw. “Jester bet me we’d end up together. He’s going to have a field day rubbing this in my face.”
“Same with Faith.” Then I glance at the clock on the bedside table, and my heart drops to the floor as reality intrudes. “We should get to the hospital.”
My time with my dad is ticking away. He might not know I’m there, butIdo, and every moment spent with him is one I’ll cherish after he’s gone. The only reason I…lingered…here with Havoc was that I needed a release. I needed this connection with him. After spending the last week at my father’s bedside, I needed to let go for just a moment. To take a breath. To brace myself to say goodbye.
While Havoc and I take quick showers and make the short drive to the hospital, one thought comforts me.
My father would be at peace, knowing I’m loved.
And that givesmepeace.
24
KERRI
When I was a little girl, I thought fifty-four was ancient.
These last few weeks, one particular day at the park stands out vividly in my mind. It was well into spring, and I couldn’t have been older than eight. My dad pushed me on the swings, and I kept begging him to make me go higher. He kept warning me I’d get hurt. I didn’t care. Who does at that age? All I wanted to do was soar. To experience that spectacular, weightless moment when the swing is horizontal to the ground. When you’re staring at the sky and you’re free…
…before your stomach crashes back and you realize you’re notactuallyflying. It’s an illusion. You’re just on a swing. In Brighton. Where everything is perfect, and I had to alwaysbehave. Because where I grew up, people couldn’t havethoughts. But I did. I had rebellious dreams of living anywhere but here, even when I was young.
I wanted to take risks.
Be fearless.
But on that day, at that park, my dad was right.
If you reach too high, sometimes you may fall.
And I did.
