Heaven's Sinners
Page 27

 Bella Jewel

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
“Tom Cat’s been dry?” he jokes lightly.
“Something like that.” I laugh.
“You know, for what it’s worth, I am sorry you came back to find me married.”
I flinch and he stares at me, our eyes just holding each other’s for what seems like minutes.
“I know you are.”
He looks away, and his shoulders straighten. “It was better that way.”
“For who?”
“For you.”
“How do you suppose that is?”
He turns back to me. “I was never good enough for you, Tom Cat. Cheyenne, she was easy, she was flirty and outgoing. You were different, you were beautiful, quiet, and fuckin’ fragile. I would have broken you.”
“That was my problem,” I say in a soft, small voice. “I was never enough to compare.”
He spins to me, gripping my arm. “You were more than enough, that was the fuckin’ problem. You more than compared. You were very different to her, but it wasn’t in a way that made you any less beautiful.”
I swallow, and my body winds up tightly with tension.
“Cade told me...he told me you had feelings for me.”
Spike flinches. “Long time ago, Tom Cat.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
He narrows his eyes. “You didn’t tell me either.”
“No, I guess I didn’t. I wanted to, but then Cheyenne came in and you took a liking to her, so I didn’t bother.”
“I went to her, and I fell in love with her, but she wasn’t what I wanted for myself, Tom Cat. I wanted you, but you wouldn’t give me a god damned inch.”
“You didn’t think of telling me?” I snap, crossing my arms. “You didn’t think that maybe you should have said something before you just ran off with Cheyenne?”
“What was the fuckin’ point? You couldn’t fuckin’ see it. I tried, fuck knows I tried, and yet you didn’t see me. I was sick of tryin’. Cheyenne threw herself on me, and I thought what the fuckin’ heck?”
I feel my body begin to shake. “I didn’t see it, Spike. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to, it was because I was so scared I would ruin everything if you knew how I felt.”
“Fuck, Ciara, I was constantly with you. I picked you up every motherfuckin’ day, I spent every motherfuckin’ weekend with you, I was there all the time.”
“I know that!” I cry. “God, Spike, I know you were, okay? I didn’t see it. I was young and I didn’t fucking see it. Then she came along and I stopped believing there was a chance. It wasn’t just on me, or you, it was on us both. We both walked away without telling each other there was so much more to it. I know what I gave up, I know I passed you over to her and I regret it every day.”
“I don’t regret it, Tom Cat. I loved Cheyenne, and I don’t regret marrying her...bu—”
I get to my feet, hurt. His words are something I already know, but it’s the way he says them. He grips my arm before I can spin away, and yanks me back down. I land harshly, and attempt to slap his hand away, but his grip is too strong.
“One fucking moment,” I spit. “One fucking moment can’t go by without her being better. One fucking moment, I’d like to mean a tiny bit more than her. You can’t fucking see it, can you? You walk around with those stupid fucking rose-colored glasses on, unable to see anything she did. I never doubted you loved her Spike, I knew you did. I saw it. I lived it. But for one fucking moment I wish it was me.”
I jerk my hand out of his grip, and spin, turning to walk off.
“It was you,” he yells, stopping me in my tracks. “I don’t regret her, Ciara. Not for a fuckin’ second. I don’t regret lovin’ her, I don’t regret marryin’ her. Cheyenne changed my life, she changed a part of me, but you, Ciara, were the one who opened my heart. You were the first one to claim it and you were the one who fuckin’ tore it out of my chest the day you ran off. You never gave me a motherfuckin’ chance to explain myself to you. I woke up after we slept together and you were gone. Couldn’t fuckin’ find you. It was you who took my heart, and you who fuckin’ broke it. She picked the pieces up when I couldn’t find you, and so I stopped fighting. Cheyenne might have had me in the end, Tom Cat, but my heart was always yours first.”
Hot tears spill out of my eyes, and my knees wobble. Slowly, I lower myself to the ground. Spike puts his beer down, and crawls over to me. He stops in front of me, reaching up to grip my face. He tilts it up towards me, and gently, his thumb swipes away my tears.
“Fuck, Ciara, you just can’t see that you meant the motherfuckin’ world to me.”
“Then why do you hate me so much now?”
“Don’t fuckin’ hate you,” he growls, his voice low and raspy. “I’m tryin’ to protect you, and all it’s doin’ is makin’ me need you more. Walk away from me, Tom Cat. Do yourself a favor, and run. I ain’t ever gonna be what you need. Ain’t ever gonna be what anyone needs. Why can’t you just see that?”
“Running is for people who don’t have the balls to fight,” I whisper, leaning in close to him, breathing in his scent. Tonight it’s a mix; I can smell beer as well as that musky scent that is his alone.
“When are you gonna see there’s no point in fightin’ for something that don’t wanna be fought for?”