“You.” Her eyes narrow, and she snaps out of whatever daze she was in. She prods her finger in my chest. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I live here now.”
“What?” Shock resurfaces on her face as she stumbles back.
I reach out and grab her arm to steady her.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” Her face contorts into an angry grimace as she shucks my hand away. “And no, hell to the no, you are not moving here.”
“It’s already done.”
She vigorously shakes her head, glaring at me. “This cannot be happening.”
“I’m sorry, Em. I’m so sorry for everything. I hate that I hurt you. I?—”
“Hurt me?” she hollers. “You fucking obliterated my heart and my life, Zayn, and you never looked back. I was a means to an end, and you didn’t care how your actions destroyed my life.”
“I did care. I mean, I do. Please, Em, just give me a chance to explain.” I reach for her but lower my arm when her eyes shoot daggers at the motion.
“You don’t deserve it. If you were truly remorseful, you would have shown up sooner.” Hurt flashes in her eyes, and I hate I’m the one who put it there. “You can’t show up almost a year later and expect I’ll ever believe a word that comes out of your lying, manipulative mouth ever again.”
“I know I have so much to make up to you, and I promise I’ll do it if you’ll just?—”
“Fuck off, Zayn.” She shoves my shoulder as she barrels past me, rounding the hood of her SUV and heading for the driver’s side door.
“Emery, please!” I race after her as she opens the door, places the flowers inside, and then climbs behind the wheel. I grab the door before she can shut it.
“Get your hand off my door, or I’ll call the cops.”
“Ten minutes, Em, please. Just give me ten minutes to explain.”
“No.” The expression on her face is resolute. “I have no interest in anything you have to say. You are dead to me, ZaynBecker.” Her eyes glisten with poison, and her nostrils flare as she leans in to my face.
My gaze lowers to her lush mouth, and we are so close it would take nothing to kiss her. I’m tempted to kiss my truths into her stubborn brain, but she’s liable to call the cops and have me arrested for assault, so I ignore the almost insurmountable urge to reclaim her mouth and focus on her eyes.
“I hate you.” The cold calm delivery is like a knife plunging straight through my heart. “I hate you as much as I hate my father and my cousin. You’re no better than them. You’re cut from the same cloth. Trampling all over innocents without a second thought. Uncaring who you hurt as long as you achieve your goal.”
I stumble back as if she’d slapped me. She might as well have. Bile swims up my throat as knots coil in my stomach. Her words imprint on my heart, and I feel sick. I want to protest, to tell her no, I’m not like them, but the words stick in my throat. How can I defend myself when at least part of it is true? I hang my head, more ashamed than I have ever felt in my entire life.
“I will never forgive you, and I never want to see you again. Stay away from me, Zayn, or I’ll report you to the cops.” She yanks the door closed, glaring at me one final time before speeding out of the parking lot.
I stare after her for a few beats, incapable of moving. My heart feels like a lump of stone in my chest, and my fingers ache I’m gripping the bouquet so hard. Tossing it on the ground, I stride toward my bike, slam the helmet down on my head, and take off with pain pressing down on my chest.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Zayn
Idrive around for an hour, attempting to process my emotions, and when it’s only mildly successful, I park at the beach and plonk my sorry ass on top of one of the dunes and call Everett for some advice. He talks me off a ledge, and when I’m more clearheaded, I return and retrieve the bouquet from the store parking lot, grateful it’s still there and not too damaged, and then I drive out to Em’s apartment and leave the flowers at her front door.
Parked at the curb outside her apartment building, I send her a text, typing and retyping the message a bunch of times before I let it go.
I deserve all your hatred. What I did to you is unforgivable. You were right about everything except how I feel about you. Everything I have done since that day was done to protect you, and I’m not stopping. I’m not leaving either. I know you owe me nothing, but you have always been the better person. Please give me a chance to explain. Xoxo Z.
After, I call J and head to Pulse to meet him.
When I arrive, my brother is at the bar, chatting to the bartender and nursing a beer.
Dropping my helmet on the counter, I hop up onto the stool beside him and order a drink. “No Jude?” I still haven’t met my brother’s best buddy except to say hi in passing when I was at the tattoo shop one time.
