Sighing and feeling deflated, I quietly tell him, “I’m not mad at you, Azrael.”
And I’m not.
At least, not anymore. I was pissed about all the bullshit he spewed at the garage yesterday, but I quickly realized none of it was about me. He had his own issues and was choosing to be an asshole about them.
I could be mad about it. Or I could just let it roll off me. One of them is a hell of a lot less work for me, so I let my anger go.
Everything he said last night, well, it’s hard to be mad about him saying things I agree with. His words from his drunken rant are going to rattle around in my brain for a long time. But I can’t be mad at him for telling the truth.
His brow furrows, and his confused expression looks weirdly boyish. It’s a strange look for the incredibly intimidating biker. “Why not?”
“Because I know what it’s like to say shit you regret because everything hurts so damn much. I know what it’s like to lash out at people who don’t deserve it because you don’t know how to make it all stop. I get it, and I don’t hold it against you.”
My words were a lot more honest than I meant them to be, but I guess this conversation calls for being real with him.
Azrael scoffs. “I can’t imagine you screaming at anyone, little bird. Timidly telling someone you don’t like them? Sure. But getting in someone’s face and yelling at them seems like a stretch for you.”
I roll my eyes at him. “After my sister died, I screamed at everyone who cared about me. I was a raging bitch to people who were hurting just as much, if not more, than I was. I’m not proud of how I acted in the aftermath, but there’s more to me than what you see on the surface, Azrael.”
I honestly don’t know how Coop still wanted to be friends after everything that happened. Not only am I the reason his mate is gone, but I’ve also treated him like shit in my grief. Yet the man still does everything he can to help me keep my head above water. I just wish I could figure out how to help him.
Azrael’s silent for a long moment as he watches me intently, like he’s seeing me for the first time. He eventually dips his chin and concedes, “I’m starting to get that. And I’m sorry about your sister. Losing a sister is a wound that never really heals.”
I look up at him with wide eyes. “You lost your sister?”
He shoves a hand through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up a little. “Yeah. Was yours older or younger?”
“Older,” I croak, having to swallow a few times before I can get my voice to come out normal. “Yours?”
“Lilith was ten years younger than me. I didn’t protect her, and that’s something that will haunt me for the rest of my fucking life. I’m not a good man, little bird. You should remember that next time you try to jump into a fight I’m in. I’ve killed people for less than what you did.”
I can’t tell if he’s threatening me or simply stating a fact. His voice doesn’t sound malicious, but I don’t really know him well enough to be sure one way or the other. “I don’t believe that you’re a bad man, Azrael. And if you want to kill me for saving the guy that’s one of the reasons I’m still in the land of the living, then go ahead.”
Panic flashes across his liquid-gold eyes for a moment before it disappears, almost like he’s bothered by the thought of me not being here.
But I know that’s not right. There’s not an ounce of Azrael that cares about me, and I wish my stupid heart would understand that.
His expression hardens and is replaced with incredulity. “What about any of our interactions have convinced you there’s any good in me?” His eyes soften a fraction before he admits, “I’d never hurt you, Lark. Not intentionally. And that’s why it’s best for both of us if you keep your distance. I’ll always be a danger to you.”
My heart pangs uncomfortably at that. Even though I know Azrael’s right, the thought of staying away from him hurts every cell in my body.
Azrael’s like a flame—gorgeous from a distance, enthralling, and will absolutely hurt me if I get too close. Nothing good happens when we spend time together, but I can’t help but crave him anyway.
I’m quiet for a beat as I shake off the weird sadness at the thought of staying away from him. “I see how you are with your friends and how they speak of you. I heard how concerned Coltand Remy’s dads were when you didn’t show up last night. You have people who care about you, so I know there’s good in you, even if you don’t show me that side much.”
He closes his eyes briefly before blinking them open. His face is uncharacteristically open and remorseful as he rasps, “I’m sorry, little bird. I’m sorry for how I’ve acted around you and the pain I’ve caused. I’m sorry I’m not a better man for you. You are worth more than how I treated you, and you deserve better than being around me.”
“You’re worth more than how whoever you were seeing during the fight and last night treated you, Azrael,” I whisper.
With how convinced he is that he’s a bad person, it’s clear that someone in Azrael’s life didn’t treat him right. I ache for the person he was before whatever it was that hardened him into the man he is now.
His whole body goes rigid at my comment, and he grips the marble so hard I’m worried it’s going to crumble. He bows his head, his inky hair hanging in front of his face and providing him a little privacy.
Something I said clearly struck a nerve, and I don’t know how to make him feel better. I don’t know why I even care about fixing whatever I broke, but I do.
After a long moment, the tension in his frame melts away. He lifts his head and pins me with his emotionless liquid-gold gaze. “Take care of yourself, Lark.”
He turns on his heel and stalks out of the kitchen without waiting for a reply.
