Page 123 of Rough Hard Fierce (Chicago Underground 1-3)
“I think we have to talk,” I said.
He tensed, his whole body did, with an air of expectancy, and then said on an exhale, “I’m sorry.”
Well, okay. He was sorry for leaving, that was fine. What I was more concerned with was whether he was coming home—
“I’m sorry I did this to you. You lost your job because of me. That was fucked-up, like you said, but it wasn’t supposed to—you were hurt. Almost raped, almost killed, because of me.”
I have an inkling that the man feels guilty as sin.
He blamed himself for all of that, everything. No wonder he was so stressed out. Next thing he’d be blaming himself for what happened with Andrew, since he wasn’t there to protect me from it.
“Christ, Colin. What an ego you have.”
“What?” He sounded strangled.
“You didn’t make your brother hire that guy; you protected me from him. It wasn’t your fault that the shit went down with the cops. It was just dirty cops and bad business and circumstance. You saved me from
getting hurt and killed.”
He shook his head.
“And look, the Rick thing, you did that, and it was wrong. But I could have found another job. Or I could have borrowed money from Shelly or called my dad or a bunch of other things. I went to see you because I wanted you, and that was as good of an excuse as any to have you.”
I could see he wasn’t going to believe me, at least not for a long time. And that was okay, he could take his time, so long as he did it with me.
I sat up and faced him. “I love you. I want you to be with me. To live with me. I don’t want you to feel guilty, but if you do, at least stay with me. We’ll work it out together.”
“It can’t be that simple.” He said it so solemnly. My heart broke and put back together all in that moment for the boy who thought he couldn’t just love and be loved.
“It won’t be easy, maybe, but I want to be with you, and I think you want to be with me. You said you loved me. Did you mean it?”
“You know I did.”
A smiled played on my mouth. It couldn’t be held in. “Maybe so, but I want to hear you say it again.” I thought he’d refuse or maybe say it begrudgingly, but he sat up with me and looked me straight in the eye and said it.
“I love you.”
It was too much again, too much emotion, but I wasn’t going to run into the bathroom or away or anywhere. I turned into his arms where he held me safe. There was something to be said for being able to defend myself, but I liked it better that I didn’t have to.
As the night turned to early morning, I asked, “You are coming back with me, right?”
He nodded against the pillow.
“Let me just shower first,” he said. “You can pack my stuff.”
He looked so hopeful I didn’t have the heart to tell him no. I dressed back into my club trappings and began to pick through the wreckage. What a mess he’d made. Though I couldn’t even grumble about it. I liked that he could depend on me for these small things. He didn’t really need me, but he could rely on me.
And the same was true for him. What I’d said back at the club, that I’d needed it, needed him, hadn’t been right. I didn’t need him, or even his house or any of that. I wanted it and him and everything, but I would be okay no matter what.
I threw his clothes into the one piece of luggage there. Everything else went into a large trash bag I found. I’d sort it all out later and clean all the clothes. I tossed a pair of jeans into the bag, and they thudded against the floor. I pulled them back out—maybe it was his phone or something like that.
I reached my hand into the pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.
And stared at it. Marveled at it, rejoiced, then rejected it.
It had to be jewelry. Maybe a— No, don’t even think it. It had to be a necklace or something. Maybe an apology necklace. Or maybe it wasn’t even for me, but Rose or Bailey or anyone but me.
I didn’t want to know. Well, I did, but I didn’t want to guess. Madness lay that way. It was like Pandora’s box, only worse. I hadn’t even opened it, and already it couldn’t be put away.
