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“Quinn!” She reached for the pillow that’d fallen off the bed in our scuffle, her ass going high in the air to do it.
And I might or might not have had impure thoughts about her in that moment.
I persevered, though, forcing myself—and my dick—to calm down.
“Nope,” I said as I reached for the pillow and tossed it across the room.
She was furious now, I could see the anger in her eyes flaring to life.
The hot fire that always sent me into a tailspin when it came to her… Goddamn, it was amazingly beautiful.
That fire was the best fuckin’ thing in the world.
“You’re a psychopath, Quinn!” she screamed, throwing her hands up.
Again, I might or might not have reacted to those beautiful tits of hers bouncing with her movement.
Pissed.
She was so freakin’ pissed.
Even worse, it’d been my fault.
But I couldn’t watch her waste her life away anymore.
She needed to get up.
She needed to go to work.
She needed to fly.
She needed to talk to me.
She needed to live life.
Right now she was just existing, and it was hurting my fucking heart.
“At least I’m on a path, Shayne!” I accused, pointing my finger at her which I knew would piss her off even more. “Watching you waste away in this dark room is fucking killing me!”
Except, the anger didn’t come.
It died.
Just as quickly as it was there, it was gone.
In its place was bone deep sadness that sent my heart to withering inside of my chest.
She crumpled forward. “I killed our baby.”
I caught her, pulling her into my arms.
I closed my eyes as a wave of grief nearly knocked the wind out of me.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I promised, smoothing her hair back from her face.
She hung her head. “I don’t feel fine. I feel like I’m drowning.”
I carried her into the shower, feeling my lungs seize in my chest with each sob that left her beautiful lips.
