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Killian’s eyes are dark and they bore holes into mine as he stares at me with a cold gaze. “I don’t owe you shit, Ainsley. I don’t give a shit if you accept it or not.”
“So, that’s it?” I fight back the tears. My entire body is in overdrive, overcome with too many fucking emotions, I’m struggling to keep it together. I want to take that steak knife from the drawer beside me and drive it into his heart. “You don’t want me now or you don’t want me at all anymore?”
“I packed your shit for you already and put it in the car.” He brings his mouth down to my ear, his lips brushing against my lobe. “Does that answer your fucking question?”
My stomach sinks and he pulls away from me. He’s cold and detached, like the Killian that I first met. The Killian that I knew before he let me in.
I’m frozen in place, staring at him as the tears build behind my eyelids. I blink rapidly in an effort to force them away. My jaw clenches, my hands curling into fists. I refuse to let this motherfucker see me cry. He doesn’t deserve my tears. He doesn’t deserve a fucking thing from me.
“Come on,” he says, dropping his one hand from my arm as he drags me along behind him by my other arm. “I’m taking you home.”
I don’t argue with him, and I don’t refuse. Instead, I follow after him willingly as he leads me back to the bedroom and we both get dressed. I remain silent as he guides me from the apartment and down to the car. Neither of us says a word as we both slip inside and fasten our seat belts.
Everything that he said last night was a lie. He never intended on going home with me.
He’s been feeding me lies for months now and I’ve been swallowing them whole like I was famished.
I knew that I couldn’t trust him with my heart, but I did it anyway.
And instead he left me with nothing but a hole in my chest in return.
TWENTY-ONE
KILLIAN
I hate her for this.
I hate her for putting me in this position.
But nothing that she does will ever make me hate her more than I hate my fucking self in this moment.
Ainsley doesn’t deserve this cold exterior, this facade that I’m putting on. She has no idea of what is really going on in my mind. I want to take it all back. To tell her that I didn’t mean a single word that I said. I wish I could do that, to let her feel my warmth, to let her know how much I really do love her.
And that’s the real reason behind all of this. Because I love this fucking girl too much to let her destroy herself.
If Ainsley were able to truly see that she needs help and believe it herself, maybe things could be different. Perhaps I don’t need to be as harsh as I’m being with her, but it’s the only way that this will work. Ainsley will never get better if she’s too busy focusing on me.
She has to believe that I don’t want her, that I don’t want to be with her.
A heartache is easier to heal from than withdrawing from heroin.
After Ainsley drifted off to sleep last night, I tossed and turned in bed, trying to figure out what my next move would be. Her answers and responses to my questions weren’t in our best interest. She solidified the lingering thoughts that I already had in my head. She didn’t want to go there if I wasn’t going to be with her.
And if I was going to be with her, she wasn’t going to get any better.
I made sure that Ainsley was still asleep when I slipped out of bed this morning. The apartment was empty, but I went outside to call Raina. I didn’t want to take the chances of Ainsley finding out what was really going on here. I told Raina the situation and she was eager to set a time to meet today to get her daughter.
This is really the end. It’s our end, so it doesn’t have to be Ainsley’s.
It might seem like the drugs are the problem, but they aren’t. I am the poison in her life. I am what is ruining all of the good in her life.
When I first met her, I wanted nothing more than to ruin her and I finally succeeded.
Nothing makes me sicker than that cruel realization.
This is the way that things have to be now.
It’s time for Ainsley to go home.
