Page 89 of One Last Rainy Day
“Cecelia,” I rasp out, the cadence in my voice taking me aback as the low-lying burn in my chest ignites at the thought of what future rainy days would look like without her. Cutting words linger on the tip of my tongue, and sensing them coming, she gives me a firm shake of her head—refusing them from me for the first time.
“Pizza? I know what you like.” She releases me, and I grip her wrist and tug her back to me.
Her navy blues volley and glisten, her voice a plea. “Dom, if we could stop this, we would have already. You think I don’t feel guilty? You think Iwantedto feel for you? You’re holding back with me,” she emits, “but I can tell you don’t want to no matter how hard you push back...I can tell. Lie all you want to me, to yourself, but I know better. I know you better.”
It’s the truth. The totality of it. I’m fucking fooling myself into thinking that there’s still a tipping point. I’m already past it. But my brother can’t suffer for it. My club can’t suffer for it. There’s too much at stake.
“What the hell do you really know?” I snap, stepping out of her reach. “Let me clue you in...what I allow you toknow, which isnothing.”
I can see the second my venom hits her and ball my fists as the burn starts to singe the whole of my chest.
“I know you’re guarding yourself with me to the point it’s starting to bother you. You want to be with me, and you won’t let yourself. Just tell me why. And I know enough,” she says softly, eyes still pleading.
“Obviously, you don’t. Do we really need to have this conversation again? I’m not bitter, or jaded, or fuckingbroken.” I roll my eyes down her frame. “I’m just not interested. So, let me sum it up for you.” I point to my chest. “I’m just another busy criminal that fucks you, and you’re a convenient fuck. Get your head out of the clouds. There isno us.”
She closes her eyes and presses her lips together to absorb the sting before they open. It’s the smug uplift of her lips along with the clear “you stupid bastard” in her expression that tells me she didn’t believe a word I just fucking said—and we both know it.
“Okay, Dom, okay,” she exhales, resigned, chest pumping along with the slight shake of her head in a call of bullshit before she turns and leaves me there, annoyed, frustrated, naked, hard, breathless, and...fucking enamored.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
TOSSING MY STRESSball from where I lay on my bed, with every catch, I begin to tick off the reasons for letting her go as my limbs grow heavy, no doubt due to my long shift at the garage.
Toss.
Brother.
Catch.
Club.
Toss.
Hindrance to progress.
Catch.
Liability.
Toss.
Fucking her the first time wasfucking up.
Catch.
Allowing her into my space, my bed...all of it was senseless, pointless, and unnecessary.
Thunder rumbles as the storm continues to rage outside, and concern spikes that she drove home in this weather. Resisting the urge to ask Sean if he’s heard from her or tuneinto the mics in her room, I slap off my bedroom light and resume my place on my mattress.
I gave up my right to know.
Facts.
Ended it.
Point blank.
Had to.
