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Chapter 11

Ithrew Nolan’s stuff in the hallway. Maybe it was petty. Maybe I should’ve waited. Maybe I should’ve let him explain. But not a single part of me wanted to.

I was angry.

Livid.

Scared? Was I scared? I hadn’t seen Killian in three years. Not since he left me in the hospital… my stomach rolled at the thought, and I shoved that memory away. I couldn’t think about that. I’d done everything I could to not think about that day.

I paced my bedroom anxiously. The bunk beds and dresser made the room impossibly small, and I weaved around things. I fussed with the sleeves of my sweatshirt and did my best not to spiral.

Why now? Why was he back?

Was he back?

Or was he just visiting? That was a possibility. Maybe he just missed his brothers—they’d always been close.

Had they stayed in contact over the past three years?If they had, no one had said a word to me. I’d done everything I could to find Killian after he’d disappeared. I’d called and texted until he finally blocked my number. I’d emailed until he’d done the same. I did everything I could to find my husband until he built an unclimbable wall between us.

Three years and my Killian was gone. Gone and replaced by… God, I didn’t even recognize him. Cocky and confident. Rough and rugged. Violent and aggressive.

What happened to the man who wrote me songs as we sat on our porch in the rain? The man who got up early to make me breakfast in bed? The man who rushed home after work just so we could catch a run in the woods at sunset before making dinner together.

Lazy kitchen dances, long showers, and pumpkin picking. Where was that man?

Had I done this to him?

A tiny sob caught in my chest at that thought, and I swallowed hard. I would not break down. I would not let him break me all over again.

I could do this.

I would do this.

This would not break me.

I could do this.

I would do this.

This would not break me.

I kept my mantra on repeat. I had to because the wobbly foundation I’d rebuilt myself on was unstable. I put on a happy face. I told people I was okay. But I wasn’t.

Not really.

Not for a very long time.

But that was my cross to bear.

A sharp knock on the door made me jump. Probably Nolan. I glanced around the room to make sure I hadn’t forgotten any of his stuff. I hadn’t.

“I don’t want to talk, Nolan,” I said loud enough for him to hear and hoped he’d go away. Another knock, and I sighed. “Damn it.”

I wrenched the door open with the full intention of yelling, but all the words were ripped right out of my throat. It wasn’t Nolan.

It was Killian.

Simple shorts had been traded out for fitted jeans and a black t-shirt. The ink, the dark clothes, and the busted lip were so strange to me. Up close, just how tailored and tapered his body was became real. Those dark eyes settled on me, brimming with something I couldn’t quite place as his gaze swept down the length of my body at an agonizing pace. I shivered and gripped the door for support. The sweatshirt and leggings I wore did nothing for the naked feeling that look inspired.

“Hello, Genevieve,” he said quietly when his eyes finally met mine.

“Killian,” I whispered. “What are you… what do you want?”

“I think you and I need to talk,” he replied. Now we needed to talk? That one sentence sparked something inside me. Something deep down and full of hurt and anger. I stepped fast into the hall, forcing him back.

“Now we need to talk?” I demanded incredulously, slamming the door behind me. “What could we possibly have to talk about?”

“Genevieve,” he began with an edge of warning in his tone. I caught the way he glanced down the hall. Yeah, we weren’t alone. There were dozens of rooms lining the hall in both directions. And rooms downstairs. And across the whole house.

“We’re in a house full of wolves,” I snapped. “If they want to hear us, nothing we do will stop that. So, tell me. What does the great Killian Byrne want to talk about?”

He said nothing, which didn’t bode well for the anxious way my heart pounded in my chest. The man in front of me may have been a stranger, but there were still little things I knew like how his brows came together when he was carefully picking his words.

Which pissed me off.

He didn’t have a right to be picking his words carefully. Not after everything. Not after showing up at my door to tell me we needed to talk.

“God, you can’t even figure out what to say, can you?” I rolled my eyes. “Did you forget I know you? I know when you’re trying to figure out the right thing to say and how to say it, so let me help you out. There’s nothing you can say that’s the right thing in this situation.”

“I forgot how high and mighty you can fucking be,” Killian said under his breath. High and mighty? How dare he! “I didn’t come here to fight. I said talk, princess—”

“Don’t you dare call me that,” I interrupted. My temper flared at the word. It’d be a cold day in hell before I allowed him to ever call me that again. “You lost every right to—”

“I’ll call you whatever the hell I want, Genevieve,” he snapped. He stepped closer, and I took one back. “I came here to talk, to clear the fucking air between us. You came out of that room like a fucking bull in a goddamn china shop. You came out here looking to fight, not me.”

“How dare—”

“I wasn’t finished talking, princess.” There was no endearment when he spit out the word. He took one more long step toward me, making me retreat. My back hit the door, and my flight-or-fight response smashed through the roof. The scent of tobacco and vanilla overwhelmed me. God, he didn’t even smell the same. When he braced his palms on the door behind me, I knew I was in trouble. “Now, I said we’re going to talk, which means we’re going to talk. You and me, we have a lot of shit we need to figure out. Put the fucking teeth away, Genevieve. I know you’re all bark and no bite.”

“Oh? Am I?” I exclaimed. Fight it was. “Did you forget our entire childhood too while you were off doing whatever the heck you were doing these last three years? Were they a good three years, Killian? Did you have fun? Fighting? Tattoos? Throw a few whores in there too? Was it easy to forget the wife you left in the hospital? Was it easy to forget about—”

I squealed as his fist punched the door, and the wood cracked.

“Don’t you fucking go there,” Killian snarled. “You have no fucking clue what the hell the last three years were like for me.”

“How could I? You left me in the hospital! You called your baby brother to come get me! I never would’ve done that to you.” My eyes burned with tears that I rapidly tried to blink away. “You didn’t call, you didn’t text, you couldn’t even email for Christ’s sake! You walked out on me, remember? You left me when I needed you the most, so you don’t get to tell me that I don’t know what the last three years have been like! They’ve been hell, Killian! That’s what they were. And you walked away like the coward you are.”

I tried to slap him because damn it, I was mad, but he caught my wrist. His grip was painfully tight as he dragged me close. Nose-to-nose, those midnight eyes flashed with something dangerous.

“Don’t you dare hit me,” he growled. That sound was liquid heat rolling down my spine, sending my heart racing. My body betrayed me. His nearness did things to me—unspeakable things as my arousal soared. I hated how turned on I felt. I hated him for still having such an effect on me.

Mostly, I just hated him.

“Or what?” I challenged. My wolf growled in response, the loud sound vibrating against my ribs. “What’re you going to do, Killian? Hurt me? I think you’ve already done all the damage you can do.”

Wrenching free, I shoved him away from me—or at least tried to. The man was a freaking solid wall. He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off and said the one thing my God-fearing, church-going little self had vowed to never say to another person.

“You can rot in hell for all I care,” I snapped and stormed away. If he knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t follow.

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