Page 210 of Wicked Angel
I laughed a little. “You would’ve made a terrible therapist, Angeline. I’m sorry, but you’re way too soft. You’d cry at every appointment. You’d bum your patients out.”
She sighed, not even a little offended. “That’s true.”
“So, let’s get back to this exposure therapy bullshit. What areyoumost afraid of, by the way?”
“Uh… I don’t know. Nothing?”
“Nice try, brat. What are you afraid of?”
“Well… I mean, ax murderers are scary.”
“Okay. So how about we toss you in a dark cave with a bunch of murderous men wielding axes and see how fast you get over your fear.”
“That’s hardly what they do in exposure therapy, just so you know. And I am not enjoying that you’re shitting all over my point right now. Murderers with axes are dangerous. Choking while singing in front of a crowd is embarrassing but it will not kill you.”
Shit. Should’ve known that would backfire on me. Girl was way too clever.
“I’m not enjoying,” I told her, “that you just turned around and fucked me up the ass with my own argument.”
“It’s what I do,” she purred, running her finger over my lip. I bit it and she gasped. Then I licked it and she made a soft, hungry noise. Her eyes sparked, then warmed over… then went molten with desire.
And my guts went molten just looking at her.
“If I gave you a ring right now,” I asked her, “would you stay with me forever?”
She sucked in a soft breath. Neither of us seemed to know I was going to say that.
But I said it.
“Johnny.” She kissed my face, over and over.
“I’m not kidding, Angeline.”
She looked into my eyes. “A ring is just a symbol, baby. It would have to be a promise. I’d need to know you were here to stay. If I knew that…” She shivered as I pulled her closer. “Yes, I’d stay.”
I caught her lips and kissed her, warm and soft. I breathed in her scent, asking myself what the fuck I was gonna do to show her I was here for her. And how I was gonna man up the courage to give her everything she deserved.
Trust.
I had to trust her, just like I wanted her, so badly, to trust me.
I pressed my forehead to hers and closed my eyes.
“Would you have gotten out of that car?” I asked her.
“Oh… you can’t ask me that. Johnny… You can’t ask yourself that. It’s not fair.”
“I wouldn’t have.” I opened my eyes and looked into hers. “If that was my kid in the backseat. If that wasourkid…” I tightened my arms around her. “I swear to God, Angeline, he would’ve had to shoot me before I’d get out of that car.”
She took my face in her hands. “And what would that have done, if your mom had that conviction in that moment?” she said softly. “Think that through. You’re eight years old, you’re in that car, now your mother’s dead, and you’re still in danger.”
“I know.” I shuddered. “Believe me, I’ve thought it through.”
She sighed, her arms sliding around my shoulders. “I think the answer to this question is that there is no answer. And that’s the part that must torture you. Because it’s so unfair. There’s nothing that could be done differently because you can’t turn back time. And even if you could… there might not have been a better outcome. You’ve heard the saying, hurt people hurt people? Well, bad people do bad things that ruin other people’s lives. It’s up to us not to allow it.” She kissed me softly. “Please, don’t let him ruin yours.”
“Do you think he knew I was there, in the backseat?” I asked her through the lump in my throat, like I’d asked myself, and asked Rory, so many times.
“Do you?” she asked me right back.
