“I caused the explosion—riskedeverything—to show you how serious I am.” Blaze thinks so little of herself that she thinks I see her the same way. When will she realize that I will do anything for her? She doesn’t ask for anything, and I already do it anyway. “I went to McGill’s office three times in three days to tell him it was me.”
With every word, her expression falls more and more until her eyes drop to the tattoo on my finger, and mine go to the ring around hers. “You confessed?”
I nod. “Get your shit together, Blaze.”
Blaze jerks back. “Excuse me?”
“No one else is going to do it for you. If you think you are getting away with your shit now, there will come a day when everything catches up to you, and you’re going to regret every step you didn’t take.”
“Oh, and you’re so high and mighty and Mr. Perfect, huh?” She rolls her eyes. “Don’t give me shit when you got held back.”
“Don’t,” I warn.
She tips her head to the side. “What? Don’t like people calling you out on your own shit?”
“I didn’t pass because of you,” I blurt. “You didn’t hear me the first time I said it, so maybe you’ll hear it now. The plan for it was in the works for three years. I couldn’t have passed all the previous years and failed the last. I had to be disciplined about each exam I failed and when I failed it. If not, they would have made me take a couple make-up exams or slide in a couple extracurriculars.”
“You’re so fucking delusional. None of that has—”
“Shut the fuck up and listen to me.” I grab hold of her head in both hands. Maybe then she’ll hear every word I say. “I failed all my classesbecause of you.”
“Like I said, your head is shoved so far up—”
I let go of her and run my hand down my face as I pace the small room. Why is it so hard for her to understand? “EverythingI did, I did itfor you. Staying back a year. Leaving my food on the desk for you to take, or buying your groceries because your grandfather/Whitlock Senior forgot to. Letting you pawn the watch I borrowed from my dad to buy a new bed because you slept on the floor after your mom took yours. Asking my brother for money three years ago just to buy the coat you always wear. Writing all of Kiervan’s collegeassignments. Doing his bidding for the past ten years. Changing your locks. Fixing your window when the latch wouldn’t close. Your house.Being here. I did all of it for you. And you know what, Blaze?”
Her sterling-blue eyes drop to my chest, unable to look me in the eyes as her throat bobs.
Tilting her chin up, her gaze collides with mine, and I’m struck with awe at how breathtaking she always is. “I would do it all again for you.” My fingers skate over the side of her face, admiring the red flush that’s returned to her cheeks.
The silence stretches between us as she searches my eyes for more until she speaks. “What did you do for Kiervan?”
The corner of my lips almost ticks up. It wouldn’t be Blaze if she didn’t pick my story apart. “Whatever he wanted.”
A wrinkle forms between her brows. “Why?”
“If my father found out about you, he’d set your house on fire. Only this time, you’d be in it. So I’ve been doing everything he asks just to keep you safe from him.”
She pulls back from my touch, and my hands fall to her thighs. “But you think I’m less than you because of my parents and the drugs.” Her lips pull into a tight line.
“That’s not true.”
“Bullshit.” She shakes her head. “All you’ve ever done is give me shit over it.”
“I don’t care who your parents are or what they do. You’re the one who came to that conclusion all on your own.”
She squints at me like she’s trying to read me. “Do you even hear yourself? How many times have you compared me to my mother?”
“Convenience.” Her lips part like she can’t believe what I just said. “Whether it was your mother, your nephew, or a stranger onthe street, I’ll make that comparison because that’s the path you’re on.” Grabbing the back of her thighs, I tow her to the edge of the bench so I can station myself between her legs. “All those people can do whatever they want and get their shit anyway they like, but they aren’tyou.You aren’t going to be like them. You aren’t going to end up like my grandfather.”
“And where do you even get the confidence to think that you’d be the one tofixme? You—” She swats my hand when I press it against her pulse. It’s faster than before but no less weak. “Jesus Christ! Why the hell do you keep choking me? Burning my house down wasn’t enough; now you want to kill me too?”
“I want to make sure you’re still alive.”
My answer makes her stop in her barrage of trying to get out of my hold. “Of course, I am.”
“You might not be.”
“Clearly, I am.” Her forehead pinches as she studies me.
