“If you do that, I’m gone,” I hissed, arms folded in front of me.
He blinked, jerking as if I’d hit him.
I was too far gone to feel anything but satisfaction at landing that blow. “I swear to God, if you take my choice away from me, take my control away from me and do this, I’ll leave. You’ll never see me again.” Although the thought of that filled me with dread and panic, I meant every word.
I was just learning what my boundaries were, my limits. Because I was just learning about who the hell I was. But when it came to protecting my child, I knew my limits. I knew I didn’t have any fricking limits. I would die for her, kill for her, hurt every day of my life if that meant I got to save her from an ounce of pain.
I also knew that as much as I trusted Swiss, I wasn’t going to let him make decisions for me. Especially when those decisions pertained to killing my husband.
His expression had changed. It was no longer cold. It was hot. Hot with fury. He stepped forward, the air seeming to shimmer around him. My heart thundered in my chest, but I stood my ground.
“You are not threatening to leave me, Countess,” he purred with violence.
I jutted my chin up. “You are not using your size and general badassery to intimidate me just over a week after I was beaten within an inch of my life,” I snapped back.
Swiss flinched and stepped back, already looking apologetic. But I wasn’t having that. I was too pissed. And hurt. And confused. I hadn’t forgotten how quickly he’d abandoned me for Preston. I couldn’t blame him for what happened to me—how was he to know that my husband was an abusive piece of shit? —but I could blame him for not fighting for me. For being cruel to me, cold to me, the moment he found out I was married, without giving me a moment to explain.
But I couldn’t call him out on that now. Not when he was punishing himself so completely. It was written all over his face. The guilt he felt.
My eyes burned with unshed tears, from the pain caused by what I was expressing coupled with the pain coming from the injuries all over my body. “You have a choice,” I said, my voice sounding stronger than I felt. “You feed your vengeance and you get only death. You don’t get me.” I paused for a handful of heartbeats, letting my words sink in.
“Or you respect my wishes. You save my daughter from a lifetime of hurt. You get life. A life with me.” I faltered for a second, wondering if that was too presumptuous. Before all of this, he’d spoken easily and freely about his future. One he made clear included me. But then things had changed. He’d changed. On a dime. “If that’s what you want,” I added on a whisper. I didn’t let the look on Swiss’s face penetrate once I uttered that.
Instead, I turned on my heel and left.
Swiss and I weren’t speaking.
He hadn’t come back to bed after our argument. As much as I was mad at him, I missed him terribly. Sleep was impossible, but there wouldn’t be much of it anyway since the sun had risen at some point during our argument.
So I showered, on my own for the first time in what felt like forever. Even before Preston’s arrival, almost every single shower I’d taken was with Swiss.
I was under the spray of the water for a long time. Both because it took me longer to do basic things now and because I was doing my ‘full shower’ routine. Double hair wash, mask, exfoliating. I’d attempted shaving, but bending down was impossible as was lifting my arms above my head.
The shower pressure, the scents of all of my favorite products and the familiarity of the shower stall with its erotic memories did little to salve my frayed nerves and frantic heart.
By the time I dressed in a long, loose maxi dress—the easiest thing to wear yet still took me triple the time to get on—and pulled my hair into a low, sleek bun, Swiss had still not returned.
The club had woken up by the time I slipped my feet into some slides. Laughter and female voices coaxed me out of the room. I felt nervous, entering the common room without Swiss, despite having done it a number of times… before.
But now I was wearing my bruises and my truth.
Xander was running around the living area with Hulk Hands. I grinned at him as he shot past.
“Hi, Kate!” he yelled, not pausing.
His little brother chased after him in a Spiderman outfit. “Hi, Kate!” he parroted.
Macy looked up from her embrace with Hansen.
“You ruined the surprise!” she pouted, detaching from her husband.
He lifted his chin in greeting.
Macy stomped over to me in order to kiss me on the cheek before she resumed scolding me.
“You were supposed to be at the hospital still,” she snipped, eyes raking over me. “You also look very cute,” she added. “Which works for what I have planned.”
I looked at her quizzically. “You have something planned?”