The Darkest Touch
Page 115

 Gena Showalter

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No! “If you walk out of this room, I won’t take you back. I’ll be done. Like you, I’m tired. I’m tired of the back and forth.”
“Good,” he said with a clipped nod.
The rain redoubled. The thunder grew louder, the snow more fierce. “One day you’ll beg me to take you back. You’ll realize what a huge mistake you made, that we could have made this work.”
“I won’t.”
Like Hades before him, he refused to back down in his quest to destroy her, unsatisfied until every tie with her had been severed. “Torin. Please.”
He reached back and gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling the material over his head—revealing a chest covered in brimstone scars.
She would have rather been punched. She stumbled back, her knees hitting the edge of the bed. Down she sank, bouncing on the mattress. It was a betrayal of her trust in him. A symbol of everything she despised. A sign that he’d turned his back on everything they’d built.
In a snap, the bond withered to ash, leaving her wounded, hollow. The pain, oh, the pain. More than she’d ever been forced to bear.
Without his strength, the weather worsened tenfold.
“How could you do this?” she whispered.
“What’s sad is that there’s a better question to ask. Why didn’t I do it sooner?”
Tears streamed down her face, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to form a response.
But he wasn’t done slicing her heart to bits. “Do us both a favor and finally put me in the Time Out box. It’s where I belong.” He opened up the door and left her—and soon, the fortress.
* * *
TORIN SAT IN the back of a darkened club that catered to immortals, throwing down his eighth ambrosia-laced whiskey. He was in a terrible mood. Had been since he’d walked away from Keeley and said goodbye to his friends...however long ago that was. A week? Four?
An eternity?
Some of the reactions played through his mind.
Strider: Dude. Don’t be a prick. Stay. We’ll figure this out. You think it was easy for me to pair up with a woman who can kick my ass at any moment, ensuring the demon of Defeat makes me suffer for days? No. But I didn’t puss up about it and leave her. She was worth fighting for. Isn’t yours?
Sabin: You need to be kneed in the nuts.
Baden: I’ve missed you, just found you again, and you’re going to leave? Did you exchange your heart for a block of ice while I was away?
Lucien: Go wherever you need to go, but I’m going to find you and I’m going to keep you updated...no, don’t shake your head at me. The curiosity will drive you insane. One day you’ll even thank me.
One day.
He hated one day. One day Keeley would forget him—if she hadn’t already. One day she would move on. Find another man. Take another lover.
Hate him! Whoever he was, he didn’t deserve her.
Torin would kill him.
No, I can’t kill him.
He just...damn it, he missed her. Everything about her. Her smile. The way her eyes glowed with her emotions. The way her hair changed color. The old-world charm mixed with modern verve. The fierceness of her. The strength she constantly displayed, even when she was vulnerable. The sweetness of her. The silly things she said. The brilliant things she said. The threats she made. The way she responded to him. The way she put him first, above all things. The lengths she went to protect him. The kingdom she wanted to build. Her temper. His ability to calm her from her temper.
She was precious. He could be himself with her, didn’t have to worry about being nice, hurting feelings, causing tears. She was joy. She was peace. Had anyone else ever had such a pure heart?
Pure...and broken. Because of me.
He kept picturing her pale, waxen features as he’d calmly stated his intention to leave her. He’d damaged something deep inside her. Something that might never be fixed. She didn’t know that he’d cut off the brimstone scars the day after he’d left her—couldn’t know. He’d been too disgusted with himself to even look at them.
But too little too late.
I hurt her again, when I only ever wanted to make her happy. How could I do that?
I should be hung up by my collarbone, caned and castrated.
Today he’d come to a bar that catered to immortals, hoping to drown his emotions in whiskey. But all he was doing was working up a good mad. Keeley had made him believe in possibilities. She’d made him want a future with her, despite everything. How cruel of her. Especially since she should have known better!
The mad jumped straight into rage. She was older than him, wiser, too. If anyone should have been able to keep a clear head while in a relationship, it was her. But nooo. She had to go and muddle things up, make him think he could have more than what he was used to. And now he was supposed to live without it? Without her?
Damn her!
Was Hades romancing her?
Torin’s fingers clenched his glass so tightly it shattered. Sharp stings, wells of blood. But he barely noticed the injuries.
A female sauntered past him and tried to trace his cheek with her fingertip. Snarling, he batted her away with a gloved hand, and not because he feared starting a plague. The world could suck it. Be with someone besides Keeley? No! Never. No one else compared to her, no one else ever would.
Have to forget her.
Someone slid into the chair next to his.
“Leave. Or suffer,” he snapped.
“Have a feeling I’ll suffer either way.”
The familiar voice registered, and his head jolted up. Surely it wasn’t—but it was.