Page 272 of Tempting Venom
I get it. I wouldn’t want to look at me either if I were him.
“I’m really sorry,” I whisper, fidgeting in place, the cold air seeping into my bones. “I understand if you don’t want to forgive me, but I’ll keep asking until you do.”
He takes a step closer, and I take a step back, my body trembling at his nearness.
The smell of his aftershave slices through me like an aphrodisiac, and I can’t help inhaling deeply, pulling him inside me, making him part of me.
“Why do you even smell real?” he murmurs in rough, raw words, leaning close. The puff of air against my neck rushes down my spine, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
“I am real, Marcus.” I touch his arm, my fingers tingling against the bulge of his bicep.
God, it’s been a long time since I touched him, and my starving body is coming alive at the merest hint of him.
He jerks away, his eyes widening in increments as he blinks. “You’re…real?”
“That’s what I said,” I mumble, digging my fingers into his arm.
“How…”
“I just told you, because of the coma?—”
He pulls me inside, and I gasp as he kicks the door shut and slams me against it, grabbing me tightly by the shoulders.
I wince as pain explodes in my chest. “You can hit me if you like. I deserve it, but maybe not too hard, because my chest still hurts from the gunshot. I’m not trying to play the victim, I swear…”
Marcus releases me and steps back, running a shaky hand through his hair and over his face before he clutches his jaw as he watches me closely.
My heart thuds when that color returns to his eyes, all bright and metal and so very Marcus, but there are lines of pain, too.
Deep and harsh and uncontrollable.
It’s because of me, isn’t it?
“I’m sorry,” I whisper again.
He lifts his gaze to me, something wretched flickering there, his hand clenching into a fist. “What for?”
“The lies. The letter. Leaving when you asked me to stay. I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry.”
“You should be sorry for something else, Preston.” He steps toward me, placing a heavy, warm hand on my heart close to where my bandage is. “You should be sorry for this, for making me watch you try to kill yourself.”
My lips part. “How…”
“You think I wouldn’t have been able to see that suicidal look in your eyes when you took the bullet for Violet? Because I did, Preston. I fuckingdid.” He purses his lips, his brows drawing together while a shine surfaces in his eyes, unsettling and wrong. “You promised to live for me, but then you didn’t.”
“I…I’m sorry. If it makes any difference, when you were holding me, I truly regretted it. I wanted to fight it. I wanted to stay alive. I think that’s part of the reason I didn’t die.”
A muscle clenches in his jaw, and I realize he’s holding all his emotions in when his strangled words escape. “Why did you do it? Why did you choose death over me?”
“I didn’t. I…” My uneven exhale is sharp and loud in the silence. “I would’ve never consciously chosen death over you, Marcus. You know that, right?”
“But I saw you do just that, Preston! Do you…” His body shakes with the force of his emotions. “Do you know how it felt to watch you go like that? My last image of you was you choking on your own blood!”
“I-I’m…sorry,” my voice breaks around the words, and I reach an unsteady hand for him, but then drop it back down. Do I even have the right to touch him after I hurt him so thoroughly?
God, what have I done?
I slide my foot back, my shoes scraping against the floor. “You have every right to be angry at me. You can hit me, punish me, do whatever you want with me, but please…pleasedon’t hate me, Marcus. I can take anything but that.”
