Maya Banks - Giving In

And then Kylie called his name. It was a plea for help, one he couldn’t ignore even in his dream.

Finally, finally he was able to move. No longer was he encased by lead. No longer was he in the body of the child he was. He let out a roar and launched himself at his father as his adult self with all the strength he’d lacked when he was just a boy.

He knocked his father away and then lunged for him, wrapping his hands around his father’s throat. He’d stop him this time. He’d never hurt another woman. Jensen was no longer the helpless child he’d been for so many years.

All his hatred and anger poured from him in black waves, giving him even more strength.

He wouldn’t fail his mother this time. He wouldn’t fail Kylie.

He squeezed, watching his father’s face go purple, his eyes bulging at the strain.

Kylie called out to him again, her voice desperate. Hoarse sounding. She was pleading with him. To stop?

Shock froze him. Why would Kylie beg for his father’s life?

This time when she said his name, it was barely distinguishable and was accompanied by a whimper of pain. He struggled through the haze of the nightmare, confused by Kylie’s actions.

And then, as if he’d been doused by cold water, he roused from sleep.

Horror swept through him with agonizing speed. His hand was wrapped around Kylie’s neck, his fingers digging into her skin. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled helplessly in his grasp. Desperately pulling at the hand around her neck.

Oh God, he was going to be sick.

He released her instantly and she fell away, holding her throat and gasping for breath. She coughed and choked, hunched over, her hair in disarray around her shoulders. She huddled on the very edge of the bed, pulling her legs up to her chest protectively. She rocked back and forth, her broken sobs ripped horrific wounds in his soul. Wounds he might never recover from. How could he?

“Kylie!”

His agonizing cry of her name sounded much like a noise a wounded animal would make.

What had he done? How could he have done something so horrible? He’d become the very monster both their fathers were.

“Kylie, oh my God, are you all right, baby?”

He hovered over her, still shaking from the dream. He was afraid to touch her, but he had to offer her comfort.

He pulled her into his arms, tears wetting his cheeks as he rocked her back and forth.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out. “Oh God, baby, I’m so sorry.”

Despair settled over him, turning everything to black. Sorrow and regret weighed him down, hammering into his mind.

He’d done the one thing he’d sworn never to do. He’d hurt her.

He was no better than his father. All the things he’d said, all the things he’d never imagined doing to another human being now battered him. The whispers in his mind, the ghosts from his past, taunted him. Mocked him and told him what a hypocrite he was.

He closed his eyes, his thoughts bleak as he realized the magnitude of what he’d done. As he realized the consequences of what he’d done.

Tears blurred his vision. Grief for what he’d lost in the space of a few moments.

He had to let her go.

Kylie was stiff in his arms. She hadn’t made a sound other than the low whimpers of fear. He wondered if she was even capable of speech after he’d nearly choked her to death.

She’d wear bruises tomorrow. Marks that he’d put there.

He would never forgive himself for this.

“I’m okay,” Kylie whispered.

Her hoarse words jerked him to awareness, away from the blackness of his thoughts.

He loosened his hold on her and pulled away, not meeting her gaze. He couldn’t. There was nothing to say, no apology sincere enough for what he’d done. No way for him to make this right.

“I’ll pack your things and then I’ll take you home,” he said gruffly.

Kylie flinched and her head flew up so he could see her wide, frightened eyes. Only now confusion had replaced the fear and uncertainty.

“What?” she whispered.

He winced every time she spoke. She could barely talk in a loud enough tone for him to hear.

“I’m taking you home,” he said, his gaze sliding away from her. He couldn’t sit here and look at what he’d lost. Couldn’t face what he’d done. It was a knife to his heart.

“I don’t understand.”

Her voice trembled and tears crowded her eyes, making them go glossy and wet.

“We can’t be together, Kylie.”

He hadn’t meant the words to come out so forcefully. Or with such heat. But he was dying slowly, with every breath. All his pain came out in those damning words.

“You’re giving up on us?”

The hurt in her voice poured more salt on his exposed wound.

“I love you, Jensen. And you’re just quitting? Just like that?”

“Goddamn it, Kylie. Look at what I did,” he all but roared. “How can you even consider being with a man like me? I could have killed you—I tried to kill you.”

“It was a dream,” she said. “You didn’t mean it.”

Bile rose in his throat. God, she was trying to rationalize his behavior. His thoughts went to the woman he and Kylie had seen in the parking lot the other night. How she’d explained away her husband or boyfriend’s actions. And now Kylie was doing the same thing for him.

He wouldn’t allow it. She deserved better than him.

“Listen to yourself, Kylie,” he said in a cold voice. “Listen to you explain away my abuse. How you rationalize it. Get dressed while I get your stuff together. I’ll take you home tonight.”

“You said you loved me,” Kylie whispered, tears running down her cheeks. “You promised . . .”

“Yeah, what did I promise?” Jensen demanded. “I promised never to hurt you.”

Kylie turned away, presenting her shoulder to him. A shoulder that heaved with her quiet sobs as she began to dress.

It took Jensen half an hour to pack up all of Kylie’s belongings. He shoved them into the trunk of his car and then went back for Kylie, who was now sitting on the sofa in the living room.

Her face was pale, her eyes red and ravaged by tears. Her hair was in disarray, tousled not only from sleep but from what he’d done. His fingerprints shone on her neck, a stark reminder of how close he’d come to killing her.

“Let’s go,” he said shortly.

Kylie rose shakily on her feet. She still wouldn’t look at him, something he was glad for. He had enough regret for both of them.

He got into the driver’s seat as she slid in on the passenger side. The drive to her house was silent, the quiet oppressive and stifling. With every minute that ticked by his sorrow and self-loathing grew until he was certain he would be consumed with it.

He finally pulled into Kylie’s driveway. He got out and headed to his trunk to retrieve all of her things. Stuff she’d brought to his house. Stuff he’d gotten used to being strewn all over his house.

He set everything inside her door, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. When he turned to go back to his car he nearly collided with Kylie. He put his hands on her shoulders to steady her and she wrenched herself from his grasp.

With a sigh, he headed toward his car, turning his back on her for good.

“I would have never given up on us like you’re doing,” she called out.

He stopped in his tracks, the accusation halting him.

“Don’t do this, Kylie. Don’t make it even harder than this is.”

“I love you,” she choked out.

He closed his eyes as his wounds began to bleed all over again. “I love you too, Kylie, and that’s why I have to go.”

He fled toward his car, not waiting for her response. He couldn’t take any more. He had to get away before he completely fell apart.

The drive home was a blur. Images of Kylie with his hand wrapped around her neck bombarded him left and right until he was dizzy. The huge knot in his gut grew.

He’d never love another woman. Not the way he loved Kylie.

As soon as he pulled into his driveway, he threw open the door, bolted out and heaved his guts all over the front yard.

KYLIE watched the sun creep over the horizon as she sat in a chair on her back deck, wrapped in a blanket. It was plenty warm, and yet a bone-deep chill had settled in. She had the fleeting thought that she might never be warm again.

Jensen gave her warmth with his smiles, his tenderness, his love. And now it and he were gone.

She wished she could muster the emotional strength to hate him. But all she could see was the desolation and horror in his eyes. The loathing and self-recrimination for what he’d done.

She rubbed absently at her still sore throat where the bruises, shaped into fingerprints, had spread across her skin.

He could have killed her.

It was what he said and what she’d pondered and yet she couldn’t bring herself to believe it. As soon as he’d come out of the dream, he’d released her. He wouldn’t consciously ever hurt her. She believed that with all her heart. So why didn’t he?

He’d nagged at her about her self-confidence and yet he appeared not to have any himself. Or at least when it came to her.

She sighed and stared down at the paper in front of her. Her resignation letter, addressed to Dash. She wouldn’t stick the knife deeper by including Jensen in her resignation.

Her laptop and phone lay on the table next to the letter. She’d spent most of the night Googling and looking up mortgage companies and Realtors. She didn’t need to get a mortgage. She had enough invested to buy a house with plenty left over. Besides, who would give her a mortgage when she was unemployed?

It was hours yet before any of the businesses would open. She hesitated a moment as the idea gripped her. She should go now and place the letter on Dash’s desk. Before he or Jensen would come in this morning.

The weekend was a blur. She’d done nothing but lie in bed, covers up to her chin. In between bouts of crying. She hadn’t eaten, hadn’t slept. She’d barely managed the feat of dragging herself to the bathroom to take care of the essentials.

Then her mind had sprung into recovery mode. She couldn’t hide in her house forever. People got their hearts broken every day. She wasn’t special in that regard. Life went on. The question was whether she was going to move on or be like she’d always been in the past. Timid. Afraid. Stick her head back in the sand, adopting the mantra of “ignorance is bliss.”

She knew two things. One, she couldn’t continue working for Dash and Jensen. And two, she needed to move. It was an idea she’d entertained in the past, but she’d never wanted to expend the energy to do it.

Now the letter was typed, and she had the phone number of a local real estate company. It was time to act and to stop being so passive when it came to her life.

Her muscles protested as she hauled herself to her feet. But she pushed back the discomfort, picked up the letter and went back inside the house to get dressed and grab her keys to the office.

Thirty minutes later, she placed the letter on Dash’s desk along with today’s to-do list. She felt a brief moment of guilt for doing this to Dash. He’d never been anything but patient and understanding with her. He was a dream to work for. And quitting abruptly when they hadn’t yet found her replacement wasn’t fair to him. But she couldn’t come in to work where Jensen would be and pretend her heart hadn’t just been destroyed.

She then walked into her office and began packing up her belongings and personal effects.

When she was done, she turned, taking one last glance at the business her brother had built. The place she’d worked ever since graduating college. Yes, she was good at her job. She would have made a damn good partner too. But there were other jobs out there. It was time to cut ties and let go and move on.

Carson was gone. He wasn’t ever coming back. She wouldn’t be anyone’s burden any longer.

With a sigh, she trudged toward the elevator. In the lobby, she waved at the night guard who looked at her curiously as she hoisted the box she was holding higher so she wouldn’t drop it.

When she got home, she left the box in her car, uncaring if it came in or not. All she wanted was to go back to bed and stay there for a week. Maybe she would. Or at least until word spread about what happened and Chessy and Joss hunted her down.