But she didn’t move. I walked around and looked at her face. She was sound asleep. I smiled at the thought of her falling asleep while I was cleaning her up. The possessive beast within beat on his chest.
I picked her up and moved her to the pillow, then covered her carefully. Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to her head. “I will fix this. I swear I will make it right. I love you enough to get us through this. I just need you to love me enough. Please, Blaire. Love me enough,” I pleaded.
She didn’t move. Her slow, even breathing never changed. But I hoped she heard me in her sleep. And that tomorrow she would remember.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I couldn’t sleep. I lay there for hours, watching Blaire sleep in my arms. She had curled up against me and clung to me as if I were her only warmth. The fear that I might never have this again was very real. As much as I didn’t want to believe she would leave me, I knew I could lose her. How would I survive that? I pulled her closer to me and held her tighter. If I could just take her and run away. Never let her know the awful truth. Why did I always have to hurt her, when all I wanted to do was protect her?
“I love you,” I whispered into her hair.
That had to be enough for us.
I watched the sun come up and the morning grow brighter. Blaire needed sleep. She’d probably sleep until noon. I had to talk to my mother and Abe before Blaire woke up. They needed to know how I felt about her. She had become my top priority. That had to be made clear.
Closing my eyes, I inhaled her and soaked in the feel of her in my arms. So trusting. Forcing myself to get out of bed, I moved her over and out of my arms. I was ready to go downstairs and deal with the truth. The ugly, horrible, sordid truth that was going to hurt her. I couldn’t stop that. I could just hope that I was enough to help her heal.
I
I pulled on my clothes and headed for the stairs, then stopped and looked back at Blaire lying in my bed. She was curled up in the covers now. Her long blond hair was fanned out over my pillow. As a child, I had often wondered if angels were real. By the time I was ten, I had decided they weren’t. That was all bullshit. I realized now that I’d been wrong.
Blaire was my angel.
Abe was standing in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee and looking out the window. This was the man who had abandoned my Blaire. He’d let her bury her mother and left her to figure it out all on her own.
I hated him.
He didn’t deserve Blaire.
Abe turned and met my glare. A frown tugged on his mouth, and he took another sip of coffee before turning to look out the window again. He was used to my hatred. But he had no idea how high it had risen since he’d seen me last. I wanted to start ripping his arms off his body. Just looking at him infuriated me.
“Are you going to ask about her?” I snarled.
He shrugged. “She’s here, I assume.” He assumed. He didn’t care. He just assumed.
“What fucked you up so badly that you could be so heartless?” I asked, hate laced in my words.
“A pain like you could never understand, boy,” he replied. His voice was empty of emotion.
“She buried her mother by herself, you son of a bitch. And you knew it.”
He didn’t reply.
“She is so fucking innocent and alone,” I said, needing him to acknowledge her, or I was going to lose my shit.
“She isn’t anymore, is she? Innocent and alone, that is,” he said.
My anger hit a boiling point, and I moved across the kitchen. He turned just in time for me to grab him and throw him up against the wall. “You motherfucking piece of shit! Do not ever, and I fucking mean ever, insinuate for a minute that Blaire is anything less than innocent. I will end you! I don’t give a fuck who wants you!” I was yelling.
Abe had dropped his coffee, and the cup had shattered on the floor, but I ignored it. He didn’t look like he cared. There was an emptiness in this man that I didn’t understand. It was as if he had no soul. “Did you sleep with her?” he said calmly.
I slammed him against the wall again, hard enough to rattle the walls and send plates falling to join the broken cup. “Shut up!” I roared.
“Rush!” My mother’s hysterical voice broke through my rage.
“Not your business, Mom,” I said, not taking my eyes off the man I was ready to murder with my bare hands.
“Doesn’t sound like she’s alone anymore, either,” Abe said.
I swallowed the fear that was clawing at my chest. “She’s not. She never will be. I’ll always be there for her. I’ll keep her safe. I’ll take care of her. She will always have me.”
“Who? What are you talking about, Rush? Let Abe go!” My mother was beside me, pulling on my arm.
Blaire was going to come downstairs soon. I couldn’t kill her father. Not unless she asked me to. Then he was a dead man. I let go of him and stepped back. “Careful how you speak about her. I want nothing more than to see you suffer,” I warned him.
“Rush, that is enough!” My mother’s nails dug into my arm, and I jerked free of her.
“Don’t you touch me, either. You wanted this sack of shit in our lives. You let him leave her.” I pointed my finger at her.
My mother’s shock grew to confusion as she looked around her at the broken things. “You’ve made a mess in here. Go into the living room before someone gets cut. I need an explanation for your behavior,” she said, walking out of the room and expecting us to follow.
I watched her go, then looked over at Abe.
“Nothing you can do to me will compare to the suffering I’ve been through,” Abe said, and then he turned and followed my mother out of the kitchen.
How did that man raise someone like Blaire? I didn’t understand how that woman upstairs in my bed could be a product of this man. Nan I could see, but not Blaire.
I had to talk to my mother and Abe. It was why I had gotten up and left my bed with Blaire still tucked in it. I walked into the living room, and my mother looked at me with a gaping mouth. Apparently, Abe had told her something.
“You . . . you . . . I can’t believe you, Rush. I know you have a problem with sleeping around, but you have to draw the line somewhere. That girl used her body to manipulate you.”
I shook my head and stalked toward my mother. I was done with hearing them talk about Blaire. I no longer cared who the hell said it, they would pay.
Abe stepped between us, but his attention was on my mother. “Be careful what you say about her. Blaire is my daughter.” The warning in his tone surprised me. It didn’t make up for his other shit, but he had defended her.
“I can’t believe you, Rush. What were you thinking? You know who she is? What she means to this family?” my mother said in a horrified tone, like I had committed a crime. She blamed Blaire for something that was never her fault. How insane was this thought process my family believed in so much?
“You can’t hold her responsible. She wasn’t even born yet. You have no idea what all she’s been through. What he has put her through,” I said, pointing at Abe. Because I did know, and I would never forget it.
“Don’t go getting all high and mighty. You were the one who went and found him for me. So whatever he put her through, you started it all. Then you go and sleep with her? Really, Rush. My God, what were you thinking? You’re just like your father.” My mother loved accusing me of being just like Dean when she was mad at me. I was just thankful that I was nothing like her.
“Remember who owns this house, Mother,” I reminded her.