I decide to bottle it up for now and think that maybe one day I can talk to Thierry about it. He and John didn’t seem all that surprised over what was happening. Maybe beating the shit out of someone is a normal thing in Scottish culture, I have no idea, though the fact that we both had to hightail it out of there because of the police was a whole other thing all together.
Then again, I don’t have much time left here. Even though earlier today we proclaimed ourselves boyfriend and girlfriend, a genuine couple, and even though I find myself falling more in love with him each and every day, I’m just not sure where we can possibly go next. If I leave, then what happens? Do long-distance? Does that even work?
And if I stay, if that’s even remotely possible somehow, can I handle him and all his demons? Is this just a one-off thing, or is this the start of something more? He said his past is behind him and I need to believe that but I can’t pretend it’s not possible for him to fall prey to his darkness. If this is just a hint of things to come, am I strong enough to get through to him? To survive it? It’s just so much for a new relationship to survive.
I have to remind myself that I might be jumping the gun. That tonight, as scary and horrible as it was to see that anger unleash from him, might just be it and we could have a beautiful love story together.
It’s fucked up. It’s all over the place. I’m all over the place. Why can’t anything be simple? Why can’t I just love him and why can’t he love me and why can’t love be the only thing to juggle? Instead the past is holding onto him and our relationship has an expiry date.
I love a broken, damaged man who might run the both of us into the ground.
I have no idea how this is going to end well.
Later that night I crawl into bed and I’m doing everything to keep my hardened heart from opening again. I want to pull away, I want to shut him out. I’ve talked myself out of everything that is open and beautiful.
But then he rolls over and grabs my hand and he holds onto it so tight.
So tight.
His eyes are pinched shut and when he speaks it’s barely audible.
“Kayla,” he says hoarsely. “I love you.”
I burst into tears.
He falls back asleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Lachlan
I have a dreamless sleep. No nightmares, no nothing. In some ways its worse because when I do wake up, and I slowly realize where I am and what had happened last night – what I had become, well, I think a nightmare would have been preferable. At least I know it’s not real.
But this is real.
My head is throbbing with a sickly ache, my mouth tastes putrid, sour, like I can taste my own bloody heart. My knuckles burn where they hit and hit and hit that man again and again.
I’m beyond disgusted with myself.
That feeling hurts most of all.
And I’m terrified to open my eyes.
If I keep them closed, I’ll never have to face up to anything.
But the images come slamming back into me, reminding me that this side of me is never going away. What’s done is done and I did it in front of the woman I love.
“Hey,” I hear her voice and it sounds like an angel, pure and light and the opposite of me. “Hey,” she says again, her soft hand on my arm, shaking me. “I would let you sleep but I know you have practice in an hour.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Practice.
God I am such a fucking wanker.
I slowly open my eyes, the light causing mini explosions deep inside my head. I see Kayla peering over me. Her eyes are puffy and she looks tired. Beautiful, still, but it hurts to know that I’m probably the cause of a restless night, of terror and sorrow.
I lick my lips and try to speak but I can’t. No words come.
“Hey,” she says again, gently touching my cheekbone. Somehow she’s staring at me like she still likes me. I don’t see how that’s possible. She’s finally seen what I’m like. I’m surprised she’s even here at all.
I attempt to clear my throat. “I’m sorry,” I croak, staring at her imploringly, wishing I could open up my chest so she can see how sorry I am. My heart feels damp, waterlogged.
“It’s fine, I get it,” she says.
I shake my head, even though it makes my brain feel like it’s caving in. “You shouldn’t get it. There’s no excuse. I’m just…I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
“Well you were drunk,” she says.
I close my eyes, rubbing at my forehead. The god damn shame is like an anvil on my chest and I can’t shake it. And I shouldn’t. “I was drunk, I know, and I shouldn’t have been.”
“But that guy was being an asshole. He was asking for it. He wanted you to fight him.”
“I know. I know and I was trying not to.” I give her a pained look. “But then he called you that name and I just…I couldn’t let it slide. I’m sorry but my tolerance for racist fuckheads is lower than my tolerance for men who disrespect my woman. I snapped.” I suck in my breath. “I just fucking snapped.”
“I know,” she says soothingly but I don’t want her to be soothing. Because it’s not okay. It’s never okay. I don’t deserve to be soothed right now.
I close my eyes for a moment. “And I shouldn’t have snapped. I should have walked away. I should have never been there to begin with. I don’t know what happened, it was all fine one moment and the next…I was punching a bag of blood.”
She grimaces at that and I immediately regret my words.
“Sorry,” I tell her quickly. “I’m just…it won’t happen again.”
“Has it happened before?” she asks cautiously. “Because Thierry made it seem like you’d been in trouble with the police before.”
“Well yeah, I have,” I tell her. “But not for that. I mean, I’ve been in a lot of fights. It’s Edinburgh. It happens. And I’m a rugby player. Everyone wants to prove their worth against someone like me. And I’ve been in trouble in the past. On the streets. You know…back then. But I’ve never been arrested, I can promise you that.”
I sigh and prop myself up on my elbows, the blanket falling down to my waist. I look her dead in the eye. “When I first got Lionel, some wanker complained about him. For no reason at all. Lionel has always been nothing but sweet. But someone had it in for me and hate is a poison. Lionel was taken away from me briefly under the banned breed act. I didn’t see Lionel for weeks while they assessed his behaviour. Thankfully he passed all their supposed tests with flying colors. But they weren’t so sure about me. Somehow though, the judge gave me back Lionel and that was that. As long as he was muzzled, I was allowed to have him.” I pause. “But if I ever get in trouble with the police, I’m terrified they could link the two and Lionel might be taken away for good. Ultimately destroyed, as that’s what they do. I need to be on my best behaviour.”
“I’m sorry to say,” she says, “but last night was not your best behaviour.” She stares down at her hands, a strand of hair falling over her face. “And I hate to tell you this but…you scared me. A lot.”
Fuck. It’s like a bullet to the chest to hear that from her.
She goes on. “Not because I felt I was in jeopardy. I just didn’t know who you were. I didn’t know what you would do. You’re…please, just take it easy from now on. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” She finally looks at me, her eyes wet with tears and it pushes that bullet further in, breaking my fucking heart into a million pieces. “I…care so much about you, you don’t even know, Lachlan. You don’t even know.”
I reach for her, cupping her cheek, completely overwhelmed with every emotion possible. But on the forefront, racing first, is hope.