Break Me Slowly(54)

He pushed himself off me, his gaze never meeting mine. He sat there, motionless, staring forward as the bright lights of Chicago sped by us.





Chapter Twenty




I knocked lightly on the door to Adam’s home office. He looked up from his desk.

“Hi,” I said in a soft voice.

Once we had come home, he’d gone into his office and I knew he needed some time alone. So I gave it to him. I had taken a shower and tried to wrap my brain around what had happened. I knew what deep, long-past pain felt like. How it crept up on you and smothered any ray of light you had.

In a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, I stood at his door. “I think we should talk about what happened tonight.”

“I’m sorry if I was too rough with you,” he said, but didn’t look up from his desk.

I stepped inside. My heart was breaking for him. The demons he carried weighed heavy in the room.

“Adam?”

“No,” he snapped. “I told you, Katelyn. This topic is closed.”

I frowned and took a few more steps toward him. “Adam, I saw the way you reacted to your stepdad. We need to talk about it. What did he do to you?”

Adam slammed his hand down on his desk and eyed me. “Drop it, Katelyn.”

“I want to help. Let me.”

“Oh?” He stood and walked around the desk. Placing his palms behind him, he gripped the edge of his desk and leaned back against it. “Are you going to tell me what to do now?”

“No. I just want you to talk to me.” I reached out to him.

He stood there. Stone. His face was devoid of any emotion as his eyes bored into mine. I barely recognized him.

“Do you enjoy making me angry?” He looked at the hand I offered him and scoffed. “Pathetic.”

His words hit me like a slap in the face and I dropped my hand. It was like being a child again, wanting to make everyone okay, wanting my love to be enough, only to be reminded that it wasn’t—I wasn’t.

I hugged my middle. “Who are you right now?”

He held his arms out. “Same guy I’ve always been.”

“No. The man I know wouldn’t treat me this way.”

“Here we go. It’s always about you, isn’t it? What I can give you. What—clothes, jewelry aren’t enough?”

“I love you! That’s it. I don’t care about the rest and you know it. I want to help you. Be there for you.” I swallowed back the tears rising in my throat.

I knew he was hurting. Knew this piece of himself was difficult even for him to handle. From the looks of it, he’d never handled it. He was lashing out. I just needed to stay strong. “I know this is hard for you, but you don’t have to face this alone. We can deal with this. Together. If you need more time, that’s okay, but I’ll be here, whenever you’re ready.”

He stared at me. “No.”

My heart sank. He was refusing to let me in. Stay strong.

“Do you have any idea what I’m capable of?” He took one slow step toward me. “I’ve almost killed a man with my bare hands…and I’m not sorry.”

I nodded. Breath was strangling in my windpipe. “I don’t blame you.”

He took another step. “You should be scared of me.”

“You’d never hurt me, Adam.”

Step. “You seem sure about that.”

I inhaled deeply. Though he was moving closer, he was using his words to put a wall between us. A wall that was dependent on my fear. I wouldn’t give in. I loved him too much and knew deep in the center of my being that Adam would never raise his hand against me.

He wasn’t my mother.

“I trust you,” I whispered.

“Then you’re ignorant.”

Everything we had shared, everything we worked to build, was falling into a shambles around me. He was driving me away on purpose. Admitting to this kind of abuse was devastating. I had gone through it, and the first time was always the hardest. Once you accepted it, voiced out loud what had happened to you, it became real. But once it was out there, handling it and moving forward became easier with every step.

“I love you, Adam. I trust you. I want you whole and happy. There’s nothing ignorant about that.”

His lips pulled back from his teeth as though my words offended him. “You think you’re special in this? Do you think you’re the only woman who has claimed to love me? All of them were happy with what I offered, but not you. Never you. You’re always wanting more.”

Bleak terror hiccupped in my throat. “I only want you.”

He stood right in front of me and looked at my face. His eyes moved from my cheek to my neck, following the line of scars I knew he couldn’t see but were there all the same. Disgust squeezed his face like he’d sucked on a lemon.