Chapter 26

I can’t think,can’t breathe after what I’ve done.

I sit on the floor across from the locked bedroom door, staring straight ahead. I’ve replayed what happened in the greenhouse in my head what feels like a million times. Her shocked expression, my anger, the betrayal in her eyes.

I walked in on her, muttering “Charlotte”, and something snapped inside me.

And that’s exactly why she deserves better than you.

My heart is pounding like a fucked clock. My palms are slick with sweat.

It’s been hours, and apart from the sound of her using the bathroom once or twice, Hannah is silent.

She doesn’t want to talk to me, and I deserve this. I’m a piece of shit. I’m not going to feel sorry for myself about it, but I have to make this right. I can’t… I can’t have her cry over this or blame herself. I’m the one with the rules and the problems, not her. I should never have put this on her. I should never have yelled.

I scrape my hands through my hair.

Fuck. Fuck, please, Hannah. I’m sorry. Fuck.

There has to be something I can do.

The lock on the bedroom door clicks, and I straighten.

Hannah cracks the door open and sees me sitting there. Her eyes are red. My stomach sinks, and I hate myself so thoroughly, I feel sick.

“Hannah,” I murmur.

“Not your princess any more, huh?” she asks.

“Hannah, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want apologies. You can save that for Charlotte,” she says. “I assume she’s your real princess, right? Or no, maybe she’s your queen.”

My stomach turns, and blood rushes to my ears. The sound of screaming. My own screaming. Pain. A memory that threatens to drag me back into the past. I start shaking. “Hannah,” I manage. “Please.” My throat tightens with emotion, my eyes are hot, prickling. I’m on the brink of an episode.

I focus on my breathing. I reach into the pocket of my jeans and find it. The soft chain links. I run my fingers over them. Here. Present. I fix my gaze on Hannah, breathing hard.

Her face has fallen into concern.

Even now, when she’s furious with me, she’s worried.

“Hannah,” I manage.

“What’s going on?” she asks. “Savage? Are you okay? Do you need help? What’s wrong?”

“Hannah, I’m sorry,” I say. “I… Just give me a second.”

She stands there, watching me. I trace my fingers over the bracelet in my pocket, fixating on it. I breathe slowly, bringing myself back.

Inhaling and exhaling. Slowly.

“There are things,” I say, finding the strength inside, “that you don’t know about me.”

Hannah sits down in the doorway, keeping her distance but watching me. She’s wary, and I don’t blame her. She must think I’m crazy. Maybe I am.

“Charlotte,” I say, “is dead.”

Hannah’s eyes widen.

“She was my wife.” The words are clipped. I’m hanging on.

Hannah’s mouth drops open. She lifts her hand to cover it.

“She died sixteen years ago,” I say, and the breathing helps. But I fixate on Hannah’s face to help me even more. She’s wide-eyed and listening, and right now, she is my anchor. “She died because of me.”

Easy. Slow breaths.

“I was on active duty when it happened.” I can do this. She needs to hear it. “Charlotte and I were married for three years. She was two months pregnant with my daughter when it happened.”

“Savage, you don’t have to?—”

“I want to,” I say, exhaling forcibly. “We lived in Coronado. Charlotte was an author, so she worked from home. She was intelligent and beautiful, but she liked to take risks. All kinds of risks. I let her do what she wanted, because I was a SEAL, and I couldn’t tell her not to be careless when I put myself in danger on a daily basis. I— But—” Another exhale. “She wasn’t adventure-seeking or doing anything crazy when it happened.”

Hannah tucks her hands under either arm and watches me, her bottom lip trembling at my pain.

“She was shopping at the local grocery store. Our grocery store. The one we went to every other week. It was normal. It was a normal day.”

“It’s okay,” Hannah says. “I’m here.”

I shake my head, holding out a hand so she doesn’t come any closer. She looks like she might try to comfort me, when this is my burden to bear, and I’ve already upset her enough. “It was only a couple of weeks after we found out we were having a baby. I’d put in for leave so I could come home and see her. She… She went into the store,” I say, and my voice shakes hard, “and some fucking piece of shit was in there, robbing the place.”

Hannah sucks in a breath.

“He turned the gun on her and shot her. In court, he said that he panicked. That he didn’t mean to pull the trigger, but she startled him. He got life in prison because of a plea deal. That motherfucker got life. He gets chocolate milk at Christmas, but my wife and child are dead, and I wasn’t there to stop it. I wasn’t there to protect her. I wasn’t there to be a man. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there.” The words repeat.

“Savage. Oh my God.” Hannah chokes up. Tears stream down her cheeks. “I am so sorry. I’m sorry I went into your greenhouse. I’m sorry that you lost her and your baby. I’m so sorry.” She sobs and bursts into tears, covering her face. She’s timid, she looks like she wants to come to me, but doesn’t.

I’m grateful because I don’t deserve her affection. “I wasn’t there,” I say, “and after it happened, I wanted to die, Hannah. I quit the SEALs, I joined a motorcycle club, and I started hurting people.”

“Savage.”

I shake my head. “Every man I hurt, I saw his face. He took everything from me. He took my soul. He took my heart. He took my life.” I’m breathing easier now. My cheeks are wet. “I am a broken man, Hannah. I have been broken for years.”

I get on my knees and crawl toward her. I stop in front of her.

She’s crying for me. Not for her. But for me.

She’s such a caring, loving person, and I’ve known that since the start.

“When I first saw you, Hannah, I couldn’t breathe. It was the first time I felt anything for a woman, for anyone, in the years since it happened,” I say. “But you were just out of college, young, and Cash’s sister. He saw how you affected me.”

Her eyes widen.

I have to get it out. The truth about her, about Cash, about Charlotte.

“I swore that I would never get involved with a woman again, because I am not strong enough to protect the people around me.”

“That’s not true. You teach people how to look after themselves. You?—”

I shake my head, on my knees for her. She gets onto hers as well, wringing her hands, tears streaking her cheeks.

“I was not strong enough to be the man I needed to be. And I’ve always been on the brink of this. Of another episode, of breaking down, of rage. I am not healthy,” I say. “And your brother knows that.”

“What has Cash got to do with this?”

“Because he saw the look on my face when I first met you, Hannah,” I say. “He saw how I lit up for the first time. And he made me swear that I would never touch you.”

“What?” Her tone is icy.

“He made me swear. And I promised him, not because your brother can tell you what to do, or me what to do, but because he saved my life. Because I owe him. Because he knows the type of broken I am. And because I have always known that I am not strong enough to be the type of man that you need.”

She’s stunned, staring at me like she’s never seen me before.

I wait for her gaze to turn cold. For her to reject me. For anger.

“I am sorry,” I say. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do… for you. Hannah, there is nothing I wouldn’t do. You make me weak.”

“I don’t want to make you weak,” she whispers. “I want to make you strong. I want to make you realize that you are everything a man should be.”

I ache all over, the tension rippling down my spine. “I can’t be the man you need.”

“Savage,” she whispers. “You already are.”