Lex smiles at me, pinched with something I can’t recognize.
“I’ll grab money, too.”
He tosses me a quick nod before heading down the slick wooden staircase.
I pack up some money in a bag. The steps creak beneath my weight as I come back downstairs. I look back once more, inhaling the noxious, metallic scent of blood. With Bryce’s spirit heading to hell where it belongs, nothing tethers me to this damn house any longer.
The house that never felt like home.
ChapterThirteen
Lex
The garage door buzzes and begins to rise. I start to back out, but the door to the house opens. There’s no way to avoid her gaze, and she looks more betrayed by the second. I was undecided about leaving her behind until the moment I realized she deserved more than me, so much more than I could ever give her. I knew what I had to do. Ihadto leave her, but I wasn’t fast enough. I don’t care about the cash or the bloodbath I left behind, but I don’t want to see her face. I can’t meet her feelings of betrayal.
She’s spent too long being betrayed, and I’m doing it to her again.
Selena deserves what Bryce had to offer her, minus him. Now that he’s gone, she can go back to normal, a feeling I can never give her.
I hate that I came inside her and left. She deserves so much more than that, but I knew my resolve would weaken if I tried to say goodbye. Now it’s too late, and the look of betrayal is even worse than I feared. It makes me feel things that I didn’t expect to feel.
She rushes down the steps. Her arms and face are scrubbed, but blood remains on her shirt. She has a change of clothes under one arm and a bag under the other. Her eyes narrow when she tries the door handle and finds it locked. I should have driven away. Put the pedal to the floor and left her. She places her hand against the window, and the broken desperation in her eyes forces me to lower it.
“You were leaving without me?” she asks.
“You can’t go, Selena. I can’t let you,” I tell her, as firmly as I can. I don’t want to, but I have to. I can’t bring her with me. “Tell the police he assaulted you. Self-defense. You have the bruises. Nothing will happen to you.” I’ve promised her safety, and she’ll be safer away from me.
“Really, Lex?” She raises her voice. The garage door is open to the idyllic neighborhood, and she’ll draw attention if she keeps this up.
“Lower your fucking voice, rabbit,” I snap.
Her lip trembles. “Fuck you! After everything we did! Everything we’ve been th—”
“For fuck’s sake.” I unlock the doors. She can’t keep yelling like this. “Get in the fucking car.”
She stares at me for a moment before dropping into the passenger seat of the SUV. She crouches on the floorboard as we drive away from her old life and into my new one. The new life I don’t want to make her a part of, but I have no choice now.
“Get off the fucking floor,” I say as I pull her up by her arm. She flinches. “Did he hurt you?” Only once she sits up and allows the sun to touch her skin do I see the bruises forming on her arm and cheek. I fight the urge to reach out and touch them.
I promised her I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her, and she ended up getting beat on and nearly fucked again by that piece of shit. It breaks something inside me. I hear the shattering sound in my chest.
“Bunny,” I whisper, “I’d have been there sooner, but your neighbor was putting groceries away and I had to wait for her to close her garage door.”
“It’s fine.”
I shake my head. “It’s not.”
“I’m more upset that you tried to leave me,” she says as she tugs off her shirt, exposing incredible tits that I can’t help but stare at as I try to drive.
She puts on a clean shirt and hands me something of Bryce’s to wear. I shake my head, but she keeps it held toward me. I grab it and have her hold the wheel as I change. It’s too small for me, and my muscles stretch the t-shirt, but it’ll work for now.
“You wouldn’t understand, Selena, and I’m not getting into it with you. I needed you to listen to me.”
“I want to go with you,” she whispers.
I raise my voice. “You think I didn’t want to take you with me? It’s not safe. It’s not something we can do together. You weren’t supposed to do anything but play the grieving fucking widow.” I swallow hard. “And go be fucking happy.”
“I want to be with you,” she says, a defiant pull in her voice.