“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “That was—I shouldn’t have?—”
“You’re right though,” he cut me off. No anger in his voice. Something worse. Acceptance. “I made a choice. I’ve lived with it for fourteen years. And I’d make it again.”
He’d make it again? So, even after what I’d said, even after the reality check that he was going to let history repeat itself, he still was going to ruin everything we could have?
How could he claim to care about me and not care enough about my future to protect it? How could he claim to care aboutme, but destroy my heart by remaining locked up for what he was planning to do?
He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. If he really cared, he’d choose me.
But he wasn’t choosing me.
“Then there’s nothing left to say.” I stepped back farther.
“Harper”—he reached for me, but the cuffs stopped him short—“don’t do this.”
“I’m not doing anything.” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “You already made your choice. You made it before I even asked.”
“That’s not fair.”
“None of this is fair.” I pressed my fingernail into the pad of my thumb. “I thought you were different. I thought—” I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter what I thought.”
“I am different.”
“No. You’re not.” I held his gaze, even as everything inside me shattered. “You’re exactly like every other man who swore he loved me and then proved he loved something else more. The only difference is, your version of violence comes wrapped in protection. But it’s still violence. And you’re still choosing it over me.”
“I’m choosing it for you.”
“That’s not your call to make.”
The alarm tone shifted, signaling the end of the lockdown. We were out of time.
“I hope it’s worth it,” I said. “Whatever revenge you’re planning, I hope it keeps you warm for the rest of your life.”
I turned away from him. My chest felt carved out. Hollow. Like someone had scooped out everything soft and left only the parts that knew how to survive.
“Harper.”
I didn’t turn around.
The door burst open, and Silas stepped inside.
38
HARPER
Silas unlocked Knox’s cuffed hands and chain and jerked his chin toward the door. “Lockdown’s lifted. Full head count. Back to your cell, Blackwood.”
Knox wouldn’t even look at me. The man who had entered this room, ready to burn down the world for me, had retreated somewhere I couldn’t reach. He wasn’t angry anymore. He wasn’t dangerous.
I followed them. “Wait. Knox, I need to?—”
“Lockdown’s over.” His voice was flat. Hollow. Nothing like the man who’d been whispering promises against my skin minutes ago. “I need to get back for head count.”
It killed me, how gutted he sounded.
Silas paused at Knox’s tone. Standing in front of the infirmary, Silas looked between us, clearly trying to calculate what had happened. His eyes swept over my tear-filled eyes.
I could practically see the conclusions forming behind his eyes—Silas assuming Knox had pulled something. Had made me upset.
