Page 94 of Bourbon Truths
“Then what is it, Kace?”
Taking a deep breath, I said, “I’m not who you think I am. I’m a monster, a demonic man who ruins the lives of others. I’m not sentimental, and I’m not caring. I don’t want to talk about my life and I don’t care to hear about anyone else’s. I’m in this world to do one thing and one thing alone—live with this all-consuming, burdensome guilt until I take my last breath. There is nothing you can say to me that will change this, so stop trying. Like my father told me, I’m not a true man.”
Lyla was speechless, her eyes searching mine, looking for answers I didn’t want to give. I grabbed the rest of my clothes.
I was just putting my shoes on when she crouched in front of me so we were eye level. She balanced on her knees as she spoke.
“Why do you want to bear the weight of the world on your shoulders all by yourself, Kace? Why don’t you want to share some of it? Let me help you.”
“I don’t need your help.” I stood up, nearly knocking her over. Running my hand over my face, I helped her to her feet. “Lyla, this is non-negotiable for me, okay? I’m not looking for a partner. I’m not looking for someone to share my burden. I did this to myself, and I’m paying for it, no one else.”
“Why won’t you tell me?” she asked, tears welling in her eyes.
“Because….” I trailed off. “It’s my dad’s death anniversary.” The words popped out of my mouth faster than I could take them back.
Her eyes widened from my confession. “I’m sorry, Kace. I’m sure today must be hard on you.”
I shrugged. “He was a difficult bastard to please. Never did anything right in his eyes. It’s best I forget.”
“Clearly you can’t if you’re acting like this, like a true asshole at his finest.”
“Better you see it now.”
“Tell me about him,” Lyla prodded. “I want to know about your father.”
“Not going to happen,” I replied, not ready to rip that wound open. I was also afraid to see what Lyla might truly think of me after she heard of my dad’s opinions on my life.
Truthfully, I didn’t want to lose that spark in her eyes she got whenever I walked into the room. I didn’t want to see that vanish once she found out I was a murderer, a loser, someone who couldn’t amount to anything. Call me a selfish bastard, but that little spark she gave me every day helped ease the pressure on my lungs that restricted my breathing.
“Fine,” she said, moving away. “That’s fine. Take your guilt with you and get the hell out of my room, but just so you know, I’m the best thing that will ever happen to you, Kace. The pull between us that you try to ignore, that’s real. There is something between us, a deep connection that you keep pushing away, and one day you’re going to wake up, alone and wishing you had let me inside your little world. You think what you did in your past is your biggest regret. Wrong, fucker. Walking out that door, out of my life, will be the biggest regret you ever have. Have fun living with that one.”
I stormed out of her room, more angry at myself than anything. Jett and Goldie were approaching. Goldie was in Jett’s arms and they were headed to her room. Not surprised. The love birds were practically naked with Goldie in a robe and Jett in his briefs.
“Get out of my way,” I stated gruffly, not wanting to interact with their jovial faces. They both had that annoying “we’re in love” sex glow about them that was too nauseating to look at.
Jett easily obliged for some reason, probably because he wanted to get Goldie back in bed, the horny bastard, but she was a different story. She was always butting her nose in my business, especially when I was in the worst of moods, and today was no exception.
“Wait,” she said, struggling to get out of Jett’s grasp. “What’s going on?”
Goldie rotated her body in Jett’s arms so Jett was now forced to hold her by her stomach rather than her back. She took the moment to prop her chin in her hands and kick her legs up behind her.
“Trouble in paradise?” she teased, knowing fully well Lyla was giving me a run for my money.
“Drop it,” I said sharply, not giving her an inch.
“Oh, come on, Kace. Sharing is caring.”
I looked at Jett. “Take care of your woman and get her off my back.”
There was a slight tick in Jett’s jaw, but I knew he would oblige. He could read me well, and I was giving off the “don’t fuck with me” vibe, something Goldie didn’t seem to understand.
“Hey!” she shouted, completely offended, as I walked away. “I don’t need taking care of. I can handle my own! Come back here. I dare ya!”
From a distance, I could hear Jett Coax her as he said, “Easy, killer.”
Vibrating with irritation, I went to my room and slammed my door, looking around for something to punch. The urge to demolish every inanimate object in my sight was overwhelming.
I fucking hated my life. The pain was too much, the guilt was far too heavy, and the unhappiness I experienced on a day-to-day basis overpowering. Something had to give, and I was afraid to find out what it was going to be.
