“I never said I wanted the white knight.”
“It’s written all over your face.”
Damn it. The thought is nice. I mean, who hasn’t dreamed about being rescued when their life turns to shit. It’s the epitome of every fairytale out there—the desire to be saved—but I learned the truth a long time ago. I bristle. My fingers ball at my sides. This subject is beyond striking a nerve with me, because I live it, I live the life where no one comes and the heroine is left utterly alone.
“Fine,” I bite back, admitting it, “but you only got half of it right. I believe in white knights, but the only knight in this story is me. No one saved me. I’ve fallen so far that I can’t even see the way out anymore. I’m at the bottom of Hell and I found you.
“You’re lost, broken, and completely fucked up. You’re not like me, but you want to be. The difference between us is that I still have hope and you lost yours a long time ago.” I swallow hard, wondering how crazy I am for saying this. “I’m not leaving no matter what you tell me happened to Amanda. At the very least, I’m your friend. I’m not the one who’s going to walk away here.”
His blue eyes are so narrow, but for a split second, they widen. Sean blinks and the look of shock is gone. He steps closer to me, closing the space between us. “Do you have a death wish?”
Sean’s irritating me more than anything else. His response, the absolute refusal to talk about what happened to his wife tells me so much, but I still don’t know what happened. I make an aggravated sound in the back of my throat and say, “Stop asking stupid questions. Spill your guts or let’s get on with things.” Stupid, stupid, stupid. Where did that come from? Did I seriously say that?
Sean doesn’t conceal his surprise this time. Wide-eyed, he steps back and looks me over once. “Are you serious? You still trust me? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Me? What’s wrong with me? Are you seriously asking that question, you messed up bastard?” I slam my palms into his chest and shove, but he barely moves. “You’re such a goddamn hypocrite, and you can’t even tell.”
Sean grabs my wrists and holds on tight. His breath washes over my face when he exhales. “Enlighten me, Miss Smith.”
I glare at him for a moment and then spit it out. “You’re telling me to run away, that there’s nothing worth saving—that you have nothing left to give—but then you have the nerve to go and say you care about me.
“I can’t come back from where I’ve gone. People don’t recover from things like this. I know that. You know that, so don’t patronize me with your fake empathy, because that’s what it is if you feel nothing, if you’re as hollow as I am, if —”
Before I can take another breath, Sean’s mouth comes crashing down on mine, cutting off my flow of words. Sean pulls me against his chest and tangles his fingers in my hair, pulling hard. The kiss is demanding and all consuming. He doesn’t want me to talk. I’m saying things that he doesn’t want to hear. I’m gasping between his lips, kissing him back, wondering how far I’m willing to go. There’s no coming back from this side of Hell. I know his agony; he knows mine.
I know there’s more to his wife’s death than Sean’s telling me, that he’s hiding something bigger and using the murder accusations to mask it. I feel it in my gut. There were pictures of Amanda Ferro in there, smiling next to a serious Sean. In one picture, his arm was around her with one hand protectively on her stomach as she stepped off a curb. Sean cared about her and the baby. He wanted them. I know he can’t live with his loss. I see it on his face and hear it in his voice every time he speaks. Fathomless pain courses through his veins to the point that he’s gone numb.
I understand. I wanted to be where he is and feel nothing anymore, but this—the fact that hookers can do things that bring Sean back—means something. Sean doesn’t want to stay in the depths of that torment anymore, but like me, he can’t find the way out. Too much time has passed. Too many scars are still raw and refuse to heal. It brings out the desperation, the maddening need to cling to life even when there’s nothing to hold on to anymore.
There’s a darker version of Sean that I’ve never seen. If I allow things to continue, if I stay here with him, I’ll stand face to face and see the horror replay before his eyes, like he’s lost in a nightmare that never ends. I want to free him from that so badly, but no one can save Sean, not when he’s like this. Not even me.