Game. Over.
I cover my face with my hands, no longer able to hold back the rush of emotion. I thought I knew pain, internal anguish, heartache that stung so badly you pray for death. I was wrong.
This is worse.
“Whoa, Mac.” He pulls me from my chair and into his lap.
I curl up there, while sobs rip from my chest. He holds me tighter, rubbing my back and saying soothing things that I can’t even hear over the sound of my breakdown.
As if I could feel any worse? Guilt for not saving him when I had the chance and now the shame that I’m still not strong enough to tell him everything, consume me. He’s exposed his weaknesses, let me in and never looked back, but me . . . I can’t bear to tell him the truth.
It was stupid to think my coming to Vegas would be good for anyone. He says my presence in his life has helped, but he’s not talking about me, Gia. He’s talking about Mac.
And Mac is an illusion.
She doesn’t exist.
What the fuck am I doing? I want to scream, break, and destroy. Sanity wanders off as my thoughts turn desperate. I dig fists into my eyes, pushing back my frantic desire. Think. I’ve come this far. I can’t give up yet, not when I’m so close.
Mac isn’t real—her social security number, ID, eye color. But that’s who he wants—the fake—not me.
Unless . . .
I could become Mac permanently, change my name legally, and keep dying my hair. The contacts will be harder to keep up with, but not impossible. It would be worth it to be with Rex, to keep him in the dark about his past, our history.
My crying quiets as a new plan forms.
“Why are you crying?” He’s still rubbing circles on my back. “What did I say?”
I wipe the moisture from my cheeks “I hate that for you. All of it.”
“Yeah, baby, me too.” He gives me a squeeze. “But things are lookin’ up. I’m here with you, got you in my arms, biggest fight of my career tomorrow night, and you in my corner. That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Mac. I’m thinkin’ with you by my side, there’s not much I can’t do.”
I pull back enough to see his face, and it doesn’t look like he’s joking. “I think you’re amazing.” And so much more.
His hand moves to cup my cheek. He runs his thumb along my lower lip. “I want to kiss you, but there’s one more thing you need to know before we go there.”
I take a deep breath and nod.
“In the past, after I, uh . . . sex, or actually after sex, I sometimes get sick.”
What? What!
“It’s embarrassing, and it’s not something I’ve ever shared with anyone else, but I think if we plan on hanging out in the future I want you to know if that ever happens it has zero to do with you.”
“You get sick? As in . . .”
He shrugs and drops his gaze. “I get nauseated, puke, gag . . .”
That first night I kissed him on the bed, when he jumped up, he was holding his stomach. The memory of his random muscle cramp at Jonah’s floods my mind. He was gripping his shirt at his stomach then too.
And last night, when we were both catching our breath, he buried his face in my hair, but wouldn’t speak. Was he fighting to hold it down?
Hooking my fingers under his chin, I force him to look me in the eye. “I don’t care. We can take this wherever you want it to go whenever you want to go there. The only thing I want from you is a chance.”
He stares at me for a few long seconds, eyebrows pinched, and then turns his face to kiss my palm. “You’ve got it.”
I’ve got it. A chance. A future. Hope for something more than the dismal life I’ve led up to this point.
The past can be forgotten. Like Rex, I can evolve into a new me who doesn’t know about the horrific history of the man she loves.
I close my eyes and nuzzle my nose into his neck. With renewed strength, and my eyes focused forward instead of back, I say good bye to Gia, the little girl who’s seen more evil than most people see in a lifetime.
Sucking in a deep breath, I allow the scent of Rex’s skin to wash away the old me and bury her for good with peace in her heart. Her job is done.
I open my eyes to a new life, the one I’m choosing.
My life with Rex.
My life as Mac.
Sixteen
Battles rage in the war for my soul
What if I stop fighting?
If I finally let go?
Rex
Nothing in my life, at least the parts I can remember, has ever felt as good as holding Mac. She took every piece of shit I slung at her and didn’t seem affected at all. I started to wonder if she’d even heard me, but when she broke down, I knew she did.
She cried.
For me.
Not because she was disgusted by a man who’d vomit after sex. Not because she couldn’t figure out a way to kick me out fast enough. She curled up in my lap, sobbing as if it was the best and only place she’d ever want to be.
I’ve never been needed like that. Never been someone’s comfort.
I like it. Shit, I like being that for her.
Blake’s flip out at the gym today, Jonah’s willingness to walk away from everything he’s worked for . . .
Fuck me, but I totally get it now.
The urgent need to protect her, keep her safe from any and every thing is there, but there’s something else too: an egotistical drive to possess and claim her, willing to fuck-up anyone who tries to take her away.
Her balled-up body shivers against mine.
“You cold?”
“No.” She sniffs, and traces the pattern of tattoos on my forearm. “I don’t think I’ve cried that hard since I was ten-years-old.”
“What was that like?”
“About the same.”
“No, I meant what was being ten like?”
She tilts her head back and glares. “That’s not funny.”
She’s right. It’s a shitty joke, but I’m trying to lighten the mood.
I kiss her head, smiling. “Yeah it was.”
“Wasn’t.” She shakes her head and curls deeper into me. “Am I hurting you?”
“No, but should we move to the couch or something?”
“Eww.” She cringes. “Not the couch.”
“Why? What’s wrong with the couch?”
Finally her body shakes with laughter; the sound relieves the tension in my muscles. “You don’t want to know.”
“So it’s straight to your room.” A ghost of nausea rolls through my gut, the familiar feeling of wanting something that makes me sick.
A long sigh falls from her lips and her body relaxes. “Yeah.”
I should be home trying to get some shut-eye, but I know I’ll only lie there and think about her. Holding her in my arms will probably buy me more sleep than I’ve had in weeks.
“Have you eaten?” I say against the top of her head.
“Soup.”
“You ready for bed?”
She tilts her head back to look at me, her eyebrows pinched together. “Are you spending the night? I mean, can you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried it before, but like all my other firsts, I’d like to try it with you.” I’m trying like hell to be honest, but fuck I feel like a pussy. She deserves the truth, no matter how uncomfortable it is to give it to her.
“I’d like that too.” She moves off my lap, and it’s nearly impossible to let her go. I grab her hand, and she leads me into her house and through the living room.
“Let me grab some shit from my truck.” I curl down and place a soft kiss against her lips, stepping away before things get out of control like they did when I showed up. “I’ll be right back.”
Releasing her hand, I’m stuck staring at the gentle sway of her hips as she walks into the kitchen. In baggy sweats and a tank top, she’s more attractive than any woman I’ve ever seen.