Giving In(84)
Bile rose in his throat. God, she was trying to rationalize his behavior. His thoughts went to the woman he and Kylie had seen in the parking lot the other night. How she’d explained away her husband or boyfriend’s actions. And now Kylie was doing the same thing for him.
He wouldn’t allow it. She deserved better than him.
“Listen to yourself, Kylie,” he said in a cold voice. “Listen to you explain away my abuse. How you rationalize it. Get dressed while I get your stuff together. I’ll take you home tonight.”
“You said you loved me,” Kylie whispered, tears running down her cheeks. “You promised . . .”
“Yeah, what did I promise?” Jensen demanded. “I promised never to hurt you.”
Kylie turned away, presenting her shoulder to him. A shoulder that heaved with her quiet sobs as she began to dress.
It took Jensen half an hour to pack up all of Kylie’s belongings. He shoved them into the trunk of his car and then went back for Kylie, who was now sitting on the sofa in the living room.
Her face was pale, her eyes red and ravaged by tears. Her hair was in disarray, tousled not only from sleep but from what he’d done. His fingerprints shone on her neck, a stark reminder of how close he’d come to killing her.
“Let’s go,” he said shortly.
Kylie rose shakily on her feet. She still wouldn’t look at him, something he was glad for. He had enough regret for both of them.
He got into the driver’s seat as she slid in on the passenger side. The drive to her house was silent, the quiet oppressive and stifling. With every minute that ticked by his sorrow and self-loathing grew until he was certain he would be consumed with it.
He finally pulled into Kylie’s driveway. He got out and headed to his trunk to retrieve all of her things. Stuff she’d brought to his house. Stuff he’d gotten used to being strewn all over his house.
He set everything inside her door, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. When he turned to go back to his car he nearly collided with Kylie. He put his hands on her shoulders to steady her and she wrenched herself from his grasp.
With a sigh, he headed toward his car, turning his back on her for good.
“I would have never given up on us like you’re doing,” she called out.
He stopped in his tracks, the accusation halting him.
“Don’t do this, Kylie. Don’t make it even harder than this is.”
“I love you,” she choked out.
He closed his eyes as his wounds began to bleed all over again. “I love you too, Kylie, and that’s why I have to go.”
He fled toward his car, not waiting for her response. He couldn’t take any more. He had to get away before he completely fell apart.
The drive home was a blur. Images of Kylie with his hand wrapped around her neck bombarded him left and right until he was dizzy. The huge knot in his gut grew.
He’d never love another woman. Not the way he loved Kylie.
As soon as he pulled into his driveway, he threw open the door, bolted out and heaved his guts all over the front yard.
TWENTY-SEVEN
KYLIE watched the sun creep over the horizon as she sat in a chair on her back deck, wrapped in a blanket. It was plenty warm, and yet a bone-deep chill had settled in. She had the fleeting thought that she might never be warm again.
Jensen gave her warmth with his smiles, his tenderness, his love. And now it and he were gone.
She wished she could muster the emotional strength to hate him. But all she could see was the desolation and horror in his eyes. The loathing and self-recrimination for what he’d done.
She rubbed absently at her still sore throat where the bruises, shaped into fingerprints, had spread across her skin.
He could have killed her.
It was what he said and what she’d pondered and yet she couldn’t bring herself to believe it. As soon as he’d come out of the dream, he’d released her. He wouldn’t consciously ever hurt her. She believed that with all her heart. So why didn’t he?
He’d nagged at her about her self-confidence and yet he appeared not to have any himself. Or at least when it came to her.
She sighed and stared down at the paper in front of her. Her resignation letter, addressed to Dash. She wouldn’t stick the knife deeper by including Jensen in her resignation.
Her laptop and phone lay on the table next to the letter. She’d spent most of the night Googling and looking up mortgage companies and Realtors. She didn’t need to get a mortgage. She had enough invested to buy a house with plenty left over. Besides, who would give her a mortgage when she was unemployed?
It was hours yet before any of the businesses would open. She hesitated a moment as the idea gripped her. She should go now and place the letter on Dash’s desk. Before he or Jensen would come in this morning.