Page 72 of The Monster I Am
By his past actions.
By the sudden demise of my sound judgment and the guilt and hatred I feel for letting him take that solid part of me.
At least I thought it was solid. Maybe I wasn’t as strong as I thought.
I wait for him to overreact, to be belligerent as always. It’s what I can always count on.
Right?
Hunter relaxes back in his chair, holding me under an intense stare. “If you keep seeing me as the villain in your story, then this will never work.”
My voice drops low as I meet his gaze. “Youwerethe villain. That’s the problem.”
“Bexley…” He starts, voice softening.
“Dammit!” I yell, slamming my fists on the table top. “No! Don’tBexleyme, Hunter.”
His eyes slightly harden, but he still refuses to give me what I need. “You’re right,” he acknowledges. “I’m sorry for doing that. I regret it every day.”
Chapter twenty-three
Bexley
I stare at him in disbelief, mouth agape. “Bullshit,” I whisper, voice cracking. “You’re just saying that because of last week. If it didn’t happen, if the fire didn’t happen, you’d feel differently.”
Hunter’s eyes flare angrily. “Stop putting shit into my mouth,” he snaps. “You don’t know how I feel.”
“I know well enough if the fire never happened, you’d still hate me.”
“Maybe,” he agrees, shrugging. “But that’s irrelevant because we’re here now.”
I shake my head, looking away. “Sometimes it’s not enough, Hunter. Maybe we’re just a lost cause—too much shit from the past to move forward or something.”
Falling back into my seat, I refuse to look at him… because I’m breaking my own heart here. I didn’t mean to let things get this out of control. But I guess I’m holding on to more resentment than I realized. And now I’ve said things I can’t take back.
What if I can’t separate him from his father? What if I always resort back to these thoughts every time we have an argument? Let’s face it—there willalwaysbe fights. It’s who we are.
Where the hell do we go from here? I don’t hate him anymore… but I can’t see a way forward when these men will always be in the shadows or haunted by their fathers. I’ll never be safe. Never be sure.
Hunter doesn’t say anything, but I can see the confusion and alarm on his face through my peripheral vision.
The others will be here shortly and it’s going to be nothing short of awkward. Ry can always tell when something is bothering me, and the moment I don’t react to one of Tai’s jokes, he’s usually on my case too.
I don’t want the three of them to gang up on me, to try to force me to open up and expose my vulnerability. If this turns into some three-v-one fight, I’m going to damage all the healing we’ve done, especially when Arch rocks up and ultimately takes my side when he’s ambushed into it. Any prospect of a new budding friendship between them will be out the window and we’ll be back to square one.
“Bexley,” Hunter starts. “Talk to me.”
I ignore him stubbornly, not acknowledging his request. I see the frustration and determination flash across his face as he leans forward.
“Seriously? I can handle this,” he mumbles, tone slightly amused. “But sure—I’ll play.”
My lips purse as I resist the urge to answer. Abby would have a field day with this. Wasn’t she the one that said Aquarians were stubborn? At least I’m living up to my name and reputation.
Hunter strums his fingers on the table, gaze unwavering as my eyes stay locked on a nearby bookshelf. The entire library is empty except for us and that worries me a little. We’re on the verge of playing real lifeClueat this point.
Who killed Hunter Lannister with the dagger in the library? Miss. Bexley.
The tapping of his fingers starts to make my eye twitch. Thetap, tap, tapgrows annoyingly louder, obviously deliberate, but I stand my ground.
