He chuckled and scratched at the fine stubble on his chin. “Well, I guess that depends on how much you can handle.”
Everything slowed, that thick cord of tension making a resurgence, sucking the air from this little room.
I stepped back, and he turned his head down and to the side, his hands on his hips. He grinned when he looked back up, quick to change the subject.
“Would you like a glass of wine?”
He busied himself searching through the small wine rack tucked at the end of the counter, pulled a bottle out and held it up. “Red okay?”
I forced myself into a detached demeanor, told myself again that I had to try. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
Opening an overhead cabinet, he produced two wine glasses. His lips pressed into a thin line as he worked the cork free on the bottle and pulled it loose. He filled the glasses halfway, passed one to me. He glimmered a smile.
He held out his glass. “To our little girls who are growing up.”
Lillie struck me like an errant bolt of lightning. My child who would never grow. I squeezed my eyes against it, against his words, and focused instead on my Lizzie. Reluctantly I clinked my glass his.
“To our little girls.”
We both took a deep pull of our wine.
He lifted his glass, tipped it just to the side, gesturing toward the stove. “I’m just going to get the water started for the pasta. Then we can sit down and relax a bit before we eat.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Nah, relax. Enjoy yourself.”
He got the water ready to boil and turned back to me. His mouth curved in clear perusal, as if he liked what he saw. He took five steps toward me, each one cutting off a little more of the airflow that fed my deflated lungs.
He held out his hand. “Come here.”
I let my hand slip into his. It was a test, to see how it would feel.
And maybe it was wrong, all of it, his skin against mine, my surrender. But I wanted to try.
I needed to try, because I was so tired of feeling dead. I wanted to feel. But when I gave into feeling, I couldn’t bear for it to hurt. I’d hurt for too long. For just one night, I wanted to feel good.
Not the way I knew Christian’s touch would burn me, the way it blessed me and bled me, the way he would singe me as his fingers traced my skin, the way he would sear me with his kiss.
I couldn’t handle anything so intense.
Something knotted at the center of my chest, something heavy, something vital.
I breathed around it.
Logan led me back into the family room and set his glass down on the end table. He swept his free hand across a rumpled blanket and dog-eared parenting book abandoned in the middle of the couch, pushing them aside.
A grin flitted at one corner of his mouth. “I warned you my place was a mess.”
An awkward huff worked its way free of my tightened throat, me standing there with my hand wound with a man’s that I didn’t even know.
And again, I was asking myself what I was doing, just what it was I hoped to achieve.
I will try.
He squeezed my hand and pulled me in front of him, guiding me to sit on the smooth leather of his dark brown couch. I sat perched at the edge, ill at ease, a subtle rock of my being as I fought against the urge to run, the desire to stay.
I want to feel something good.
Picking up his glass, Logan sat down beside me. He talked about the girl’s teacher, the school, laughed about how stressful it was being in charge of the group of six girls he’d chaperoned on the field trip last week.
I engaged him the best I could, laughed in all the right places because I had nothing to add. I’d been absent the entirety of this school year, absent from our lives.
I will try.
We sipped at our wine, talked about nothing.
Logan set his empty wine glass aside and moved to sit on the large square ottoman in front of me. He took my hand in both of his. “I’m really glad you’re here, Liz.”
I blinked. Emotions lashed within me. Volatile. Violent. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”
He seemed to choke over his laughter. It seemed so out of character for this man, but then I had to admit, I really didn’t know him at all. He was my daughter’s friend’s father. Nothing more. And here I sat with my hand burning between the heat of both of his.
Pulling back, he splayed what seemed to be a nervous hand through his messy hair. For a moment, he looked away, then turned his attention back to me. All the casualness I’d come to expect from him evaporated, severity taking its place.
“I’ve wanted to do something since the first time I saw you.” His hands tightened on mine as he inclined his head, searching, seeking permission.
I chewed at my lip, that disquiet from before bold, sinking aggressive fingers into my spirit.
“See…that…right there. It drives me insane, Liz. That mouth.”
He took my face in his hands, his hold strong, fierce as he stared at me with zealous eyes. When he leaned forward, I didn’t stop him. I let him. I wanted to feel.
Could he? Could he cover the pain? Expose something in me that was good?
His lips brushed mine, a breath, a brush, insignificance.
Still, it stole what little air I could find.
A whimper passed my parted lips. Something he seemed to mistake as desire. He pressed harder, his firm lips searching mine. He groaned and jerked back, his hold unfailing as his attention jumped all over my face. He gripped me tight.
“God, I’ve wanted to do that for so long. Did you know that, Liz? That I’ve been wanting to taste you? And you taste amazing.”
He lifted his chin, inclined his head as he dipped, and he searched me again, his mouth powerful as it explored mine. Then he deepened it, his tongue making a rough pass across my trembling bottom lip.
A jagged gasp ripped through my constricted airways. Tore through me with an avenging fury.
This kiss.
It was shattering.
Shred me to pieces, splintered as it fell, demolished the walls I’d erected around me.
This kiss came with a ruthless force.
It cut me open.
Splayed the wounds wide. They bled, surged, flooded me in everything I’d never wanted to feel again.
My mind shot to Christian, and suddenly I was back on my family room couch. And I could feel him, feel him holding me.
“I love you, Christian. Always. There is nothing that could make me stop loving you. Nothing that could make me stop needing you. You are my start and you are my finish, the one who’s going to be there for everything in between.”
And I felt…but I felt everything I’d been so desperately trying to shut out.
It hurt.
Oh my God, it hurt so bad.
I fisted Logan’s shirt, needing something to hang on to.
He edged forward, his hand coming to the back of my neck as he kissed me.
I was drowning.
Incredulous laughter shot from my mouth in a contemptuous scoff. “What do you mean, how can I say that?” I pushed up on my knees. “I was the one who carried her, Christian.” I jabbed my finger to my chest. “I was the one who loved her and cared for her. She died inside of me and I had to give birth to her.” I lifted my chin. “So yeah, I can say that…you have no idea what I’m feeling. None.”
His entire face twisted in contention. “You think she meant less to me than to you? You think my heart isn’t broken over this?”
“You wouldn’t even touch her.” It dripped from my mouth as a sneer.
Anger bled free.
Overbearing.
Brutal.
Destructive.
A sob tore up my throat.
Logan jerked back, holding my face at a distance as if to hold back the chaos raging though me, panic firing in his green eyes. “Oh my God, Liz, I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean…”
We both jumped when we heard t
he crash at the front door. Our attention whipped around just as Christian barreled in. He seemed to get knocked to a standstill when he saw Logan and me twisted up together.
Violence trembled from his seething bones, his face pinched in pain as he cast his devastation on me.
Logan jumped to his feet, his body a barricade as he stepped in front of me. His voice dropped in slow disbelief. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
Protective aggression curled through his muscles as he took a stance in front of me. Shielding me.
That was impossible. There was no defense. Nothing that could defend me from the force of Christian.
I stared up at the man, the one who inhabited every significant memory of my life, the pain and the joy, the love and the ecstasy, the misery and the torment.
And anger.
It was glaring. Overwhelming.
I was so angry.
Blue eyes blazed at me with disgust, destroyed, spearing me to the couch.
Pain sliced through me, the sharpest knife driven into the pit of my stomach.
And I hurt.
How was it possible to hate a man I loved so much?
Chapter Nineteen
Christian
Present Day, Early October
Elizabeth and I had been through so much.
Indescribable bliss and devastating sorrow.
Our love ran so deep, and yet, it seemed our wounds ran deeper.
Some of those wounds had seemed unbearable, inflictions impossible to recover from.
No doubt one came with the regrets of the greatest mistake I’d ever made, the day Elizabeth had been forced to choose between me and Lizzie before she was even born, the day I’d sent her away to live life on her own, scared and alone.
Another had been the day Lillie was taken from us. Our hearts had ruptured when she was ripped from our lives.
I once believed the other had been the day I’d walked out of Elizabeth’s house little more than three months ago. I couldn’t imagine hurting any worse than that moment, when I’d snapped the door shut to block out the overwhelming sorrow of the woman I loved, a wall put up between us because neither of us knew how to deal with the excruciating pain.
But that moment didn’t come close to the devastation that hit me now.
Elizabeth balanced just on the edge of his couch, one leg canted off to the side as if she were getting ready to slip onto the asshole’s lap. Those fingers I knew so well were tangled in his shirt while he held her perfect face between his filthy hands.
Malice curled my hands into fists as I took in the brutality happening ten feet away from me.
He was kissing her.
He was fucking kissing her and touching her.
And the bastard had the nerve to do it while she still wore my ring.
Her head spun in my direction, breaking their connection. Shock widened her brown eyes as she gaped at me from across the short span of the room. Still, it felt like I’d never been further from her than I was now. The distance so great. An impenetrable expanse.
Logan jumped to his feet, and the asshole moved to stand in front of her. Misplaced aggression coiled his muscles. As if I were in the wrong. As if he thought it his job to keep her from me. That was his intention. I knew it. Possessiveness radiated from his posture, as if he had some kind of claim on her.
But he had none.
She was mine, and she was always going to be.
Even through the barrier Logan tried to forge between us, her wary gaze held mine. A storm raged in her expression, tightened in shock, taut in anger, flashed with distinct relief and adoration. I didn’t know if Elizabeth recognized she still held it for me.
The asshole’s voice rang somewhere in my mind. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
My attention snapped up to meet his sneer.
Yes, I was most definitely out of my fucking mind.
How could she do this to me?
I said it aloud, the trauma flowing free. “How could you do this, Elizabeth?” It was an accusation, a rush of emotion squeezed from within. I looked at her with disbelieving eyes, my head slowly shaking as the pain tore through me. “How could you?”
Tears slipped down her face, her lips quivering.
And I knew she had been crying, even before I broke through the door. Like maybe she felt it, too, the chaos that had spun me into a complete fucking frenzy as I pounded the sidewalk outside the bastard’s house for the last fifteen minutes. When I couldn’t take it any longer, I’d tried to peer through the drapes of his window, the two silhouettes obscured, though I’d seen them leaning, pressing, moving.
There was no more standing aside.
I was taking her back.
Logan inched a little farther in front of her. He cocked his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes. “Get the fuck out of my house.”
My laughter was ragged, verging on hysterical.
Because there was no sanity in this situation.
“I’m not going anywhere without her.” I spit the words at him.
Elizabeth whimpered, grasping at the collar of her shirt as she scrambled back on his couch, climbing to her feet on unsteady legs.
I could see the line of her, her face blocked from view, her body shaking as she fumbled a few steps back. And it almost felt like relief when she came around and stood in the small open area behind the couch. Her face was downturned, and she wavered in indecision.
I made it for her.
“Go get in my car, Elizabeth.” The command slid out low.
A cry erupted from her, as if she were in physical pain. I knew she was.
Logan rushed around the other side of the couch, as if to shield her, as if he knew anything about the woman crumbling in the middle of his room. “She isn’t going anywhere with you.” He extended his arm back to keep her at bay. “Baby, stay back,” came as a quiet assault from his mouth, as if he were sharing some kind of private conversation with her, telling her without words that she didn’t have to be afraid of me.
Baby.
He called her baby.
Hostility rolled from me in waves as a sweep of possessiveness broke, taking over every cell in my body.
When he took a single step toward me, I charged him. My shoulder collided with his chest.
A horrified scream rose up from Elizabeth, blended with the cries she couldn’t seem to contain. They fed the agitation, the madness that left me unhinged. Because without Elizabeth, I was in pieces. Shattered.
Caught off guard, Logan fumbled backward before he regained his balance. On his toes, he bounced in aggression.
“You are fucking crazy,” wheezed from his lungs. He rushed in, swung wide as he aimed for my face. The punch missed as I ducked my head.
My arm cocked back, insanity flooding from me unlike anything I’d ever known. All I knew was I wouldn’t let him have her. I wouldn’t, and I couldn’t fucking stand the thought, knowing that the two of them had been together.
Was she sleeping with him? Had she been curled up with him in his bed?
Blinded with fury, I slammed my fist into the underside of his jaw. His head rocked back.
A guttural groan roared from his throat.
Her undying presence nipped at my soul, teased and taunted as I bore down on this asshole who for even a second thought she could somehow be his.
I hit him again, the strike landing on his cheek.
He stumbled back, his own fury mounting a resistance as he surged forward.
Elizabeth screamed.
My attention darted to her, to the one I wasn’t sure I knew any longer.
Sadness poured from her as she witnessed me coming unglued.
Unprepared, distracted by her, his fist connected with my nose. Pain exploded, splitting my vision.
Blood gushed, and I saw red.
I lost it, losing myself in the pent-up rage that I’d harbored for so long. I unleashed it on him, the anger for her, the anger for me, the anger at the injustice of this
fucked up world.
Her desperate voice hit my ears. “Christian, please, stop.”
I stumbled back, aggression still curling through my senses as I glared down at the piece of shit who was trying to steal her from me.
I swiped the back of my hand beneath my nose and across my mouth. Blood smeared. Sniffing, I turned my attention to Elizabeth. She was crying, lost, just as fucking lost as me.
“Go get in my car, Elizabeth.” It was hard, harsh with the anger. I realized most of it was directed at her.
She vacillated, shifting, so obviously drawn to the door and drawn to this place where she hid, where she hid behind lies and pretended she didn’t have to face what we’d gone through. Her unsteady gaze met with the intensity of mine.
“Go,” I said.
The brown of her eyes flamed and dimmed, a roil of confusion, harboring a disturbance unlike anything I’d ever witnessed, a disturbance as severe as the one boiling inside of me.
Anger and regret.
Revulsion.
Pain, prominent and suffocating.
Underneath it all was the love that would ever let us go.
She dropped her gaze and shuffled around me, quietly slipping out the door.
I stared at Logan who was trying to pick himself up off the floor, my entire body rocking with hatred. Blood dripped from my nose. Harshly, I wiped it with the back of my hand.
“Stay away from her. Do you understand me? This is my family. Did you see that ring on her finger? Do you think this is a game? That woman belongs to me. She always has and she always will. Don’t think for a second you can take her from me. She will love me until the day she dies.”
I’d told a million lies in my lifetime.
That statement was one I knew as the truth.
“Fuck you,” he sneered, roughing the heel of his hand across his bleeding face.
Derisive laughter flooded from me. I backed up, lifting an accusatory finger at him as he straightened. “I’m not joking. Stay away from her. You don’t know her…not for a second…don’t pretend like you do.”
Then I turned and ran out the door I’d barreled through not five minutes before.
The Regret Series Complete Collection Box Set: Lost to You, Take This Regret, and if Forever Comes Page 59