I threw a heel at his head without warning. It barely glanced off his shoulder and dropped to the floor.
“The hell!
He spun around in time for my follow-up throw and ducked to the side, but this time I’d been aiming for his dick. It narrowly missed his thigh and landed next to its mate.
Why did I have to be the only one who had bad aim in the entire family?
“Missed.” He glared. “Unless you were trying to aim for the dresser. Then—just kidding, you missed that too.”
“Ugh!” I stomped my foot. “Why can’t you just… I don’t know, talk to me! You never talk to me anymore!”
“Because!” he roared. “I can’t even look at you right now! Is that what you want me to say? That I’m pissed, fucking heartbroken? That I’m terrified and that as much as I want to keep you here, I have no choice but to let you go? What the hell do you want me to say, Vi? That I love you? That I can’t live without you? I don’t think I’m capable of saying it, because then it’s true, then I have to believe it, and then there will be nothing fucking left of me!”
Tears slid down my cheeks. “Y-yes. I want you to say all those things, and then I want you to kiss me and tell me everything’s going to be okay when we both know it will never be the same.”
It took two large strides, and then he was pulling me into his arms, kissing my cheeks, healing my tears.
I pressed my hand against his chest. His heart was racing almost as fast as mine was, and then his mouth was moving down my neck. “I lost you before I even had you.”
“You’ll always have me, Breaker,” I vowed.
He stilled. “No, you belong to another, meaning this will never be the same between us.”
“I’ll cheat,” I whispered against his mouth. “I’ll come back to you. I’ll never be his.”
“Don’t.” He stopped kissing me and stepped away, his green eyes bright with rage. “Cheating gets you killed.”
“Then…” I licked my lips. “Have me one last time. Give me at least that.”
His eyes lowered to the tattoo on my left ring finger. “You were his the minute that tattoo was drawn on. Had I known this was going to happen tonight, I would have kicked out the driver, then driven in the opposite direction, maybe even off a cliff, but never toward your house, not with you in the SUV, not with my heart cracking with each breath I take.”
“Breaker.” I sobbed against his chest. “Please, just one last time, please!”
“You made a vow,” he said in a dead voice. “Besides, there’s someone else.”
“Wh-what?” I jerked back. “You started dating someone in the last week? We’ve been in Seattle, you jackass! What do you mean there’s someone else?”
His eyes were dead. “It was fun, Vi. But we both need to move on.”
I reared back and slapped him so hard my palm stung. He didn’t react just let me hit him over and over again, and each time he squeezed his eyes shut like he deserved it.
“Enough,” he finally said. “You know this is for the best. A clean cut always is; the knife hurts too bad when it’s dull, Vi. I don’t think I could bear it.”
I stumbled away from him, my tears falling in rapid succession as he walked back to my dresser and continued pulling clothes out.
And then, after a few minutes of silently crying, I went to my closet and did exactly as he said.
Maybe it was good I didn’t have one last moment in his arms.
Because one moment reminded me of the moments taken from me, a lifetime of smiles from Breaker, a lifetime of kisses.
Stolen by a man I barely knew.
One I hated.
And one… I would try to kill.
Because I wanted Breaker.
And if he wouldn’t fight for us. I would.
I’d crawl back to him, not the pure Violet Abandonato he was used to.
I’d come back on my knees in my husband’s blood—let him be the sacrificial lamb.
It was time for me to be the one holding the knife.
It was time to be made.
Chapter Six
Was there even a cause too lost,
Ever a cause that was lost too long,
Or that showed with the lapse of time to vain
For the generous tears of youth and song? —Robert Frost
Breaker
I was cheerfully drunk last night, everyone thought it was because of the goodbye party, but it was because I had to say goodbye to my soul.
And now I was nursing the hangover from hell.
Something kicked me… or someone.
“Go away!” I shouted then realized I was literally spooning a bottle of gin in my right hand with a bottle of empty tonic in the other. The hell? Was I just mixing the drink in my mouth all at once?