“I didn’t make you feel ugly.”
“You never once told me I was beautiful—or attractive, even. You didn’t call me pretty or tell me that you liked the way I looked. You wouldn’t even touch my stomach.”
He scowled and sat forward again. “So, it’s all my fault?”
“No. It’s not. But you pulled some massive shit this last week, Dylan, and that really opened my eyes. Even if I wanted to forgive you, I’d never be able to, not fully. I’d never stop looking over my shoulder to see if you were fucking someone else, or stealing from me, or setting me up to pull the rug out from under me again.”
“This is bullshit, Megan.”
“What did you think was going to happen? Honestly.”
“You don’t have to be a bitch.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I’m being serious. Tell me what you honestly thought was going to happen when you walked back in here today. Talk me through it.”
“I thought you’d fucking be glad that your husband came back. Instead, you were already spreading your legs for the first guy who wandered by. Didn’t take you long.”
“For the sake of argument, I’m going to ignore the fact that you’re being a condescending ass, and ask you why you thought I’d be glad you were back. After what you did.” I shook my head. “I was seconds from drowning. You left with zero regard for me. Instead of helping me and the two of us both getting out of here safely, you cleaned me out and ran off with your mistress. I nearly died trying to secure the house and the business. Is any of this sinking in?”
“Come on. You’re not serious.”
“Yes, I am. I got caught in a rip current and swept out to sea. I couldn’t stay afloat. The last thing I remember was panicking when I realized I was going to die. Do you want to know what went through my head in those final moments?”
For a change, he looked slightly shaken. “What?”
“I was thinking about how easy it would be for you. If I died. No messy divorce, no prenup, no embarrassment. You’d just get a nice lump sum of life insurance money and get to run off with your Brandi.”
“That’s not… I… Megan, I wouldn’t prefer you dead.”
“I was so angry, thinking that I’d made it easier for you. You don’t deserve anything else from me. You’ve taken more than you deserve already. Still, I feel like it’s only right to be decent.” I blew out a rough breath. “And that’s the only reason I’m going to let you stay under my roof until you get your life together. I’ll call the lawyers in the morning and get them started on the divorce papers. If you do decide to stay here, you’re going to need to stay out of my way and don’t bother me. We should probably talk about a timeline, too. My hospitality does not extend indefinitely. I suggest you find a job as soon as possible and then look for a place of your own.”
“Megan, don’t do this. I have nothing else.” For once, there was emotion in his eyes. “I’m sorry I did all of this to you. I’m sorry about Brandi. I’m really sorry. I’ll change. I’ll do whatever you want. Just, please, don’t make me start over.”
“You did it to yourself. Don’t make me out to be the bad guy. I’m going to go out and get some fresh air.” I steeled myself against his hang-dog expression and walked away.
I pulled the door shut behind me and leaned against it. My heart was hammering in my chest and I felt nauseous. Why? Why did I feel like the villain? I wasn’t being mean to Dylan. I was standing up for myself for a change. My patterning told me that I should comfort him, placate him, please him even if that meant being unfair to myself. It was hell to get out of that old way of thinking. The truth was that I wasn’t leaving Dylan. I wasn’t walking out on him. He had already walked out and left me. The only reason he’d come back with his lame attempt at groveling was that it hadn’t worked out with his mistress and he had nowhere else to go for the moment. It had nothing to do with his feelings for me. He was a user, and I had been an enabler.
I walked down to the beach and sat in the sand just inches from the water’s reach. I was still mad at it for trying to kill me. I figured it would be a while longer before I could wade back out into it without my mind reliving its force as it dragged me under.
Wasn’t that just life, though? It knocked you down, and you had to take a moment before you had the strength to get back up and have another go at it. Was it crazy to even be thinking of starting something new with Roman when I was still reeling from Dylan’s betrayal? If it was too soon, would I just get sucked back underwater?
22
Megan
“Hey.”
I glanced over my shoulder at Roman and forced a smile. “Hey, yourself.”
He sat next to me in the sand and stared out at the Atlantic, too. “Crazy to think that it’s the same ocean that tried to take you away from me last night.”
I looked away, afraid to let him see the tears well in my eyes. I buried my fingers in the sand and rested my cheek on my knee.
“I have something I need to tell you.” He sighed. “You’re probably going to think I’m crazy, but please hear me out.”
My stomach twisted. “What?”
“I want to be with you. I want it so desperately that I can’t think of anything else. I know it probably sounds insane to you. We met less than twenty-four hours ago, but I know that you are the woman I was meant to be with.” He turned to face me full on. “My people…they just know when they meet ‘the one.’ Our soulmate.”
My stomach twisted tighter. “Your people? Russians?”
“No. I’m not…normal, Megan. I’m sorry if it all sounds ridiculous and I’m just blurting it all out like this, but I need you to know. I need you to know about me before you make a decision.”
“What are you talking about, Roman?”
“Shapeshifters. My people are shapeshifters. We have the ability to shift—to transform—into bears. Polar bears, to be specific.” He paused. “I’m a polar bear shifter from Siberia, and you’re my soulmate.”
My heart sank, plummeted right to my feet. “Shapeshifters. Polar bears.”
“Yeah. I know it probably sounds crazy to you, but we’re real. I’m real. And so are soulmates. I am one hundred percent sure that you and I are made for each other. We’re meant to be together.”
I blinked a few times, unsure of how to react to everything he was laying at my feet. “Um… You’re a polar bear shifter, and I was made for you.”
“I know it’s a lot to digest. You might even think I’m off my rocker right now. I can show you, though. I’ll shift into my bear if it’ll help, Megan. Let me prove it to you. Let me fight for you the way you deserve to be fought for.”
I was going to cry. I just felt physically ill. “Can I think about it?”
Roman sat back, his face crestfallen. “You already chose him.”
I shook my head. “No. He’s leaving. It’s definitely over between us.”
“But you haven’t chosen me, either.”
I bit my lip hard and shook my head again. “I just need time to think.”
“This was too much, huh?” He looked crushed, and the contrast between the true devastation on his face and the irritation that had shone on Dylan’s made this all that much harder. But he was obviously insane.
I nodded and squeezed my eyes shut.
“Fuck. I’m sorry. Come here.” His voice sounded heavy with emotion as he pulled me into his arms and held me against his chest. “I’m thinking of myself, and you’re going through the end of your marriage. I’m sorry, Megan. I won’t pressure you. I promise.”
I dug my fingers into his shirt and held on, desperate for things to be different. He clearly had serious mental issues. I couldn’t pursue anything with him. I wasn’t going to drown again. Yet, it hurt. Walking away, saying goodbye to him was harder than walking away from my twelve-year marriage.
He held me as I cried, his arms wrapped tightly around me. He murmured softly into my hair and cradled me through my tears. Damn, I felt so safe in his arms. Why
did I have to fall for someone with such huge issues?
He apologized again and again, but he didn’t beg me to change my mind. When I’d finished crying and pulled back, he let go. He didn’t hide the sorrow in his own eyes, but he forced a smile for me. We stood up, and he pressed one last kiss to my forehead before standing rooted to the spot as he watched me walk away.
I couldn’t go back to the house. I was in no mood to face Dylan. Instead, I walked past the house and through the sand dunes that separated Main Street from the residential area. On Main Street, I headed toward the shop, keeping my head down until I got there.
Not knowing what else to do, I plopped down on the concrete in front and stared at the crumpled wreckage. My whole life had been completely upended this week.
I was all cried out, so I just sat there relatively numb. The sun had set, the island was in darkness, and I wasn’t sure where to go. Sunkissed Key suddenly felt suffocating.
I needed to scram. My mom had a place in Miami. It wouldn’t take me long to get there, provided Matilda hadn’t wrought too much damage along the way. It was a perfect plan, a chance to get away and to get my head on straight again.
As I headed back home, I saw Cameron Patrick lying in her hammock, her cat in her lap, and let myself in through her open patio door. “Cameron?”
She jumped, sending her cat skittering away. “Megan! You scared the living tar right out of me!”
“Sorry.”
“What’s up?”
“I can’t stay here on the island. Dylan’s back and I need to put some distance between us. I lost my SUV to the storm. Any chance I could borrow your car for a few days?”
She sat up gracefully and came over to me. “Oh, honey, yes.”
“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency.”
“Stop. It’s fine. You know I walk everywhere anyway. Take the car for as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere unless another hurricane happens along.” She hugged me tightly and then pulled me into her house. “Where are you going? Somewhere safe, I hope?”
“My mom’s.”
She patted her chest. “Good. Just be good to yourself, honey. You deserve some pampering, you really do.”
I nodded and took the keys she handed me. “Thank you, Cameron. I’ll repay you when I get back.”
“Nonsense. Go on, now. Get out of here. I’ve got plans with that hammock tonight and they don’t involve you.” She pushed me toward the garage door and flashed me a smile. “Be safe.”
I settled into her car and backed out after hitting the garage button. Minutes later, I was on the highway, heading north to the mainland and some breathing room.
23
Roman
“I understand what you’re going through, Roman, but I need you to drag your mopey ass somewhere else. Kerrigan has been trying to get into that drawer behind you for the last hour.”
I looked up at Serge and blinked. “Huh?”
“Move, brother.” He gestured toward Kerrigan and shook his head. “You’re in her way, but she’s not going to be bold enough to ask you to move.”
“I would’ve asked…eventually.”
I scooted out of the way and looked around. What was I supposed to be doing? “Any jobs for me?”
Kerrigan, P.O.L.A.R.’s new dispatcher shook her head and gestured to Serge.
I looked at Serge. “You’re still not giving me anything?”
“No can do. You’re not in the right headspace. Until you’re able to focus on a task, sending you out will make you a liability to yourself and others.”
Kerrigan smiled at me, a gentle smile that someone might give to a feeble grandparent or a sick child. “Maybe there are smaller tasks that need doing? If you’re feeling up to it.”
Serge shook his head. “Nope.”
“Fuck, man. What do you want me to do?” I stood up, sending my chair flying into the cabinet behind me. “I’m going crazy.”
“Outside. Take it outside.” Dmitry stood up and pointed at the door.
Serge gave him a weird look and shook his head. “He’s right. Come on, brother. Outside with me.”
I stomped out the door and looked around, the same way I did every time I stepped outside. I was hoping to see Megan. It’d been over a month since I’d last seen her that day on the beach and it was killing me. Even if she didn’t choose me, I just wanted to see her and make sure that she was okay and happy.
“Go after your mate, Roman. This isn’t going to resolve itself until you do.”
I growled and shoved him, my anger boiling to the surface. “You think this is my choice? You think I don’t want to go to her every second of every day?!”
He shoved me back. “I don’t know! All you’re doing is sitting around, mopey-assed and bitchy about it.”
I drew back my fist and slammed it into his jaw before I even thought twice about it. It felt so good, I almost did it again, until Serge ducked and hit me with an uppercut that sent me flying backward into the side of the building. That felt good, too. After feeling nothing but deep sorrow for a month, I was ready to trade it some good old anger.
I went for him again and he was there, ready for me. He took my punches and gave back just as good as he got. Rolling around on the ground, we tussled until we were too tired to keep going.
Flat on my back on the sandy ground, I looked up at the sky and swore. “I don’t know why I just blurted it all out to her like that.”
Serge sat up. “We told you to. Sure, maybe you could’ve had a little more finesse about it, but we all thought it was the right way to go, man.”
“This is killing me. Literally.”
“I was there. When I couldn’t get Hannah to talk to me, I thought I was dying, and that was only for a couple of days. I feel for you. I really do. You can’t just give up, though.”
“I haven’t.” I sat up and looked out at the ocean. “I go by her house every night to see if she’s back. She’s not. Her jackass of a husband—”
“Ex-husband, from what I hear.”
“Yeah. Ex-husband. He’s still there. The fucker hasn’t done a thing to the place. It still has damage from the storm. You’d think he’d at least make the repairs since he’s staying there. I’d really like to tear him to pieces and feed him to the sharks. Hell, maybe if I did, she’d come home.”
“No hurting humans—if you can help it. Just remember that.”
I dug my fingers into the sand and scowled. “She’s got to come back. She has to.”
“She will. And then things will work themselves out. You’re mates. That means something.” He stood up. “If you hit me again, I’m going to have the rest of the guys beat your ass, though.”
I waved him off and sighed. Looking back out at the water, I wondered for the millionth time where she was. I wanted to believe Serge was right, but I wasn’t so sure. I’d somehow managed to fuck things up so royally. I shouldn’t have told her. I should’ve just waited until she trusted me more. I hadn’t been thinking, though. I was so afraid of losing her to that asshole’s manipulation that I’d jumped the gun and scared her.
Everything in me felt like it was closing down—dying. Now that I’d met her, I found living without her pointless. I wanted to come home to her smiling face, and taste the sweetness of her lips. I wanted to be the one to comfort her when she was upset and build her back up when she was feeling down. I wanted her to be the one I shared my day with. I wanted to indulge in simple things that I hadn’t thought mattered before her.
The kicker was that the heat didn’t bother me anymore. While the other guys still sweated in front of the crappy AC unit, I couldn’t care less. What did it matter that I was a little physically uncomfortable when the real pain was lodged deep in my heart?
I swore and dragged myself to my feet. I had to do something, anything. I was slowly going insane. Without anything better to do, I decided that it was time to take out her trash.
I couldn’t hurt her fuckface ex-husband, but Serge h
adn’t said anything about scaring the shit out of him.
24
Megan
“Hello?” I let myself into the house and prepared myself for coming face to face with my now ex-husband. “Dylan?”
I hadn’t talked to him since the lawyers fast-tracked the divorce for me. I wasn’t looking forward to it.
But all that met me was silence and an empty house. I looked around before breathing a huge sigh of relief. It appeared that Dylan was gone. There was nothing of his anywhere in the house and the entire place had been cleaned and put in order. The window in the bedroom was fixed, and even the destroyed mattress had been hauled away.
Back downstairs, I sank into the couch. That was a big weight off my shoulders. I closed my eyes, letting the silence envelop me.
My mother’s house was never quiet. Mom had been living in Miami lately since her newest husband, Jerry, wanted to be closer to his middle-school-aged daughter, especially after the hurricane scare. Mom was always yelling at the poor hired help. Jerry was always yelling at his daughter, and the daughter was always just yelling.
Then, there were the parties. Mom was a social butterfly when it came to parties. She even threw one for my divorce, much to my dismay. She invited all of her socialite friends, and I saw way more than my fair share of drug use and weird sex that night. Apparently, divorce parties made the jet set frisky.
I should’ve left and gotten myself a nice, quiet hotel room after the first night, but it had still been hard to be alone with my thoughts. I’d even become good friends with one of her gardeners, a middle-aged guy named Emmett. We snuck into the shed during my divorce party and played gin rummy all night long. Anything to avoid being alone.
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