Page 30 of King of Ashes
“Not my problem,” she puffs out, waving me off.
“This marriage won’t go as you please, baby. My patience has an end.”
“Oh, baby, you still haven’t learned that I do whatever the fuck I want,” she says mockingly and turns around.
In one swift movement, I drag her to me. She writhes in my arms, but I tighten my grip on her. “You can’t run from me forever, Zara.”
Silence falls, only a few birds chirping in the distance as she stops struggling and lies in my arms.
She lets me hold her, and that’s all that matters. After a while, her chest rises and falls, deep in slumber.
I don’t stop caressing her.
I can’t stop holding her.
I kiss the top of her head, incapable of stopping myself when she stirs in my arms, letting out a strangled sound that clenches my heart. I tighten my grip on her to soothe her, wishing I could battle her demons so the fuckers would never disturb her.
“I have you. You’re safe,” I whisper, gently waking her.
What I see breaks my heart. She looks unfocused, lost in the maze of her brain that locks away a sizable chunk of her life.
I gulp down the ball of emotion stuck in my throat. “A nightmare?”
“My life is a nightmare,” she says and stands, closing me off with such proficiency she might as well plunge a dagger into my chest and carve out my heart.
“Tell me why,” I urge her. The risk of slipping heightens whenever we’re close.
She glares at me, and I stare right back. “We’re a catastrophe together.”
“Too late for that, so we need to make it work.”
She mumbles under her breath as I shoot up, getting dressed with harsh movements that betray my anger.
One moment of peace followed by hell. Tension stretches between us, thick and suffocating.
I follow her back to the Jeep, and she looks ahead, once again completely ignoring me.
“Your mood swings are pissing me off,” I grit out as I open the passenger door for her.
She climbs in, staring me down. “Get used to it.”
Bracing the top of the Jeep, I arch a pointed brow. “Do you want a fight?”
“Maybe I fucking do,” she snaps.
Pushing myself off, I say in my most nonconfrontational voice, “Get it through your stubborn skull that I would fight heaven and hell for you, but I won’t fight you. I am always on your side.”
“I want you to leave tonight.”
Twisting the keys, I start the engine, and the car spurts to life while my heart sputters toward its end. “Fucking no.”
The rest of the ride is spent in thick silence until we reach the mansion.
“I need some space.”
“We have spent barely a few hours together.”
This woman is going to kill me. I want her all hours of all days, and she discards me as if I am nothing.
