Page 188 of Chasing Ruin
Before I can even process the loss of warmth, he suddenly drops—awkward and heavy—his head landing in my lap. A soft breath leaves him, like the world is finally letting him rest. Like he’s letting it.
His eyes stay on mine.
My fingers move on instinct, brushing over the lines in his forehead, smoothing them out slowly.
He exhales again, deeper this time. “I used to be worse,” he murmurs after a while, voice quieter now. “Angrier.”
“Hard to imagine,” I drawl sarcastically.
He huffs. “Yeah, I wasn’t exactly winning any awards for self-control.”
My lips twitch faintly.
“It was with Dane,” he continues, gaze drifting somewhere past me, “that I first realized I wasn’t… safe. Not really.”
There’s no self-pity in his tone. Just fact.
“I still wanted it, though,” he adds. “The patch. The position. I wanted to behisVP.” His jaw tightens. “I wanted to be better than what Savage taught us.”
My hand stills for a second before resuming its slow strokes. His eyes flicker back to mine. There’s something fragile there. A hint of restraint pulling at his words.
“Back then,” he goes on, albeit reluctantly, “when I lost it, I’d forget things, Charlotte. Bits and pieces. Like my brain just checked out.”
A small smirk tugs at my lips. “So am I to assume that you don’t remember the night you dragged—”
“I remember what I did, Charlotte.” His voice cuts through, firm. Not defensive, just resolute. “And no, don’t youeverforgive me for that.”
My chest tightens.
“But yeah, some parts are hazy,” he admits, quieter now.
There’s no relief in his confession. Just regret.
“I wanted that today,” he continues after a beat, voice breaking. “Wanted so badly for the rage to take over. Wanted to forget why they deserved what I was doing to them.”
A tear slips from the corner of his eye, sliding into his hair. “But I remember all of it,” he whispers. “Every second.”
Another tear follows.
“Even how empty it felt. Because it didn’t change anything.” His voice cracks. “They still hurt you. They still took Dane from us. They still won in so many ways.”
His breath shudders.
I don’t realize I’m crying too until a drop lands on his cheek. And he wordlessly wipes away my tears.
Silence stretches between us again.
“You’re very chatty now,” I mumble, trying—and failing—to lighten the weight pressing down on us.
He lets out a broken laugh, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m just sharing, my love. Who else is gonna listen to my sorry ass?”
I sniffle. “I don’t know. Ryder? Hound? Literally anyone else. Even the club girls.”
He shakes his head, smiling faintly. “I’m not in love with any of them. I’m in love with y—mmph—”
I grab his mouth mid-sentence, squishing his lips together with my fingers.
“I got it,” I mutter. “Jeez.”
