Page 23 of My Dark Prince
And yet …
And yet.
We were both panting, catching our breaths. Briar planted her hands on her knees, her bangs matted on her forehead and temples under the ballcap.
“I’m sorry.” I meant it. “I’m sorry this happened to you. All of it. And I am sorry that I was another person who let you down. But I went through my own shit.”
She scowled, parting her lips before she clamped them together. Her eyes slammed shut. She sucked in one, two,threeheavy breaths before she opened them again. “What happened?”
This was my moment to tell her the truth.
The ugly, horrible revelation.
That I was a monster.
And I couldn’t do it.
The words wouldn’t come out.
“Well?” She jutted her chin up, her gaze sharp and unyielding. “You chased me twice today. Tell me what it was that kept you away from me. I know I was an intense kid. I realize I put a lot of pressure on you. But you could’ve picked up the phone one day. Nicely told me that you were busy, weren’t interested, and wanted a casual friendship. Instead, you cut me off so brutally that when I showed up at your house, you let security escort me out.”
I winced. This happened shortly after I’d graduated from Harvard, before I ran away to Cambridge for my master’s degree. She’d been a tiny, miserable thing. Drenched to the bone with rain. All alone. And I hadn’t let her in.
She was right. Iwasa monster. I did not deserve forgiveness.
I bowed my head. Silent.
“Of course. You’re a real fucking dreamboat, Oliver.” She shook her head, tossing her hands in the air. “Nothing’s changed. Least of all you. The next woman to tell you she loves you is a fool.”
Briar spun around and trudged toward the lip of the water hazard. Under the cloak of darkness, the fabric fence that bordered it all but disappeared. Her legs tangled in the mesh.
“Cuddlebug, watch out. There’s a—”
She tipped forward, falling over to the other side, her arms flailing. I heard a grunt, followed by the thud of Briar’s head bumping against what I hoped to fuck wasn’t the bobcat truck parked on the edge of the pond, and finally – a massive splash.
A moment of suspension passed. Of the guillotine blade hanging in the air. A memory that crashed into me with terrifying force. I remained frozen, unable to move an inch.
Then I remembered Briar was in trouble, and everything and everyone disappeared.
“Shit.”
I shouldered off my jacket and turned on the flashlight on my phone, jumping into the pond. The icy water needled my skin. I swam around in the pitch black, trying to find her. In. Out. In. Out. Each dive came up fruitless. Panic devoured my insides like fire. Every second she spent inside the frigid water was a second she couldn’t afford.
I decided to divide the pond into sections and dove into a different side each time I inhaled. It worked. On the fifth dive, I managed to grab the hem of her trench coat.
It was an uphill battle to swim my way back to shore, but when I splayed Briar across the carefully mowed lawn and pressed my trembling fingers to her neck, the unmistakable warm beat of a pulse thrummed against my skin. Faint, but there.
I choked out a sigh of relief, before I realized her scalp – and entire face, in fact – were much darker than the rest of her wet self.Blood. Her face was covered in blood. She must’ve gotten injured when her head took a hit.
The blood.
The water.
The injury.
A current of memories ruptured past a mental floodgate. I grabbed my phone and called for help.
There would be time to fall apart.
