Walk Through Fire (Page 50)

“I… that’s good, High,” I told him quickly. “I’m happy for you.”

“Knocked up their ma. Didn’t love her,” he shared, and with each word he said, I sustained new wounds. “Fuck, didn’t even really like her at the time. But she got pregnant and didn’t wanna take care of it, so she gave me Cleo. I gave her a ring. We both didn’t want Cleo to grow up with no brothers or sisters, so we gave her Zadie. Then we gave them both a crap home with two parents that didn’t give much of a shit about each other until we decided we were doin’ more harm than good and we ended it.”

Outside of the fact that he had two daughters he loved, none of the rest of that sounded good.

I didn’t want that for him. I’d wanted so much more for him. So, so much more.

I’d walked through fire to give it to him.

And I felt a new gash opening, knowing he’d never had it.

“I’m sorry, High,” I whispered.

“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, Millie,” he clipped.

“Okay,” I said immediately.

“Lived thirteen years with that woman and our babies knowin’ each day…” He shook his head. “Fuck, each fuckin’ second what I wanted outta my life, what I wanted for my babies, what I thought I’d have with you, what I’d have to give to our kids, doin’ that with you, and knowin’ you tore that away. And you saw me and thought I wanted closure? You thought I wanted your ass back in my life so you could say you were sorry for takin’ away the only thing that gave me joy? To tell me you were fuckin’ sorry for takin’ away the only shot I had at givin’ that joy to the babies I made?” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “What the fuck’s the matter with you?”

“I told you I fucked up,” I reminded him carefully.

“Yeah,” he growled. “You fuckin’ did.”

“Now you know how,” I went on.

“Now I know how,” he ground out.

We stared at each other, me anxiously, him angrily.

When I could take no more, I assured him, “When you walk out of my house, I promise, High, swear, you’ll never see me again.”

“You lied to me,” he declared.

I shook my head in confusion. “I—”

“I got Cleo and Zadie. Where’re your kids, Millie?”

I took another step back and did it wondering how I managed it. Truthfully, his words caused so much damage it was actually a wonder I was still standing.

Breathing.

Living.

“Told me,” he continued. “We talked about it all the time, you told me you were all about family. Worked your ass off to finish school early so we could start. And I know you got no kids. So that was a lie too. Like your love. Like your commitment to us. Like everything that had shit to do with you.”

“I made a mistake back then,” I forced out, the words weak, pained.

“You sure as fuck did,” he returned, and threw out a hand. “Payin’ for it, in your perfect house with your fancy-ass pajamas and killer investment portfolio.”

Killer investment portfolio?

Shit, he’d looked into me.

“Got money, babe,” he sneered. “And you think you got it all. Worked your ass off to get it. Gave me up to get it all. That’s what you wanted, not a life with a biker who had no future. You wanted it all.”

He took a step toward me, his eyes locked to mine, and it took all I had left (which wasn’t much) not to shrink from him.

And then he kept at me, inflicting his last wound.

A mortal wound.

Slaying me.

“But I’ll tell you, bitch, what you don’t got, what you won’t ever get, what you lost when you lost me, is the most beautiful thing you can have. Your kid sayin’ your name. Every fuckin’ time Cleo or Zadie say the word ‘Daddy,’ even if they’re whinin’ or pissed about somethin’, it lights up my world. So keep warm in this fuckin’ joint.” He threw out a hand again, then used it to indicate me. “In your sexy threads. But you’ll never get warm to the bone, knowin’ you changed the world, created a miracle, bringing beauty from between your legs that’s got fuck-all to do with an orgasm.”

On that, he grabbed his cut and walked right out of my house, slamming the door behind him.

And I stood still, staring at the door, the curtain over the window still swaying with the power of his slam, eviscerated, the life force flowing out of me, streaming across my gleaming wood floors, evaporating into nothing.

It took some time, a good deal of it, before I moved. Got myself a cup of coffee. Cleaned up the mess Logan left of his. Went to my bathroom to take a shower and get ready for the day.

But I did it knowing I was back to going through the motions.

Oh, I’d pretend.

For Dot.

And Mom and Dad. Justine. Kellie. Claire.

And I’d breathe until there was no breath left.

But that was all life would be for me.

I knew it because it had happened twenty years earlier, my life leaking away as Logan walked out of it. Then I went through the motions.

Now I’d do it again. But with practice, I’d do it better so those left who cared about me didn’t worry.

That’s all I’d give.

That’s all I’d get.

Until the day I died.

And I was good with that because once I had it all with the promise of even more.

So I’d take that because I knew that was all I’d ever get.

And because I also knew I had no choice.

Elvira

“Yo.”