Finding Faith

Page 77

A mistake. The word burned through my brain and spiked my anger. I went to his dresser and pulled out one of his T-shirts and a pair of his boxers. I folded them; I knew where they were.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he said loudly.
I looked over at the clock and knew I was running late to get Jimmy from the daycare. I’d been playing around with someone who obviously never gave two shits about me. I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been. How could I have fallen for his games again?
“My clothes are wet and I need to get out of here.”
I almost let it slip that my son was waiting for me. I had to be more careful around Finn.
I tugged on his T-shirt and pulled the boxers up over my hips. He stood beside his bed and watched me like a hawk—a really angry hawk.
“I can’t believe I fell for that again,” I said clearly as I walked around him and left the room.
I heard him behind me and then I felt his hand wrap around the top of my arm before he swung me around to face him.
“You? I can’t believe I fell for your shit again. You’re not the victim here, Faith. I am! And you know what I say to that? I say fuck it! And fuck you for even thinking for a second that you could slide your pretty little ass back into my life and all would be right with the world. The world ain’t got shit on a man with a past like mine.”
I flinched at his words and I felt the tears coming. I tried to pull away again. I was sick of crying for him, and I was determined he’d never see them fall again.
All I could think about was Jimmy and how I’d almost died giving birth to him—the pain that I went through all alone because Finn was such a jerk. The beatings I took just to be with him even for an hour to two. I’d bled for him and this was how he was going to treat me again? I was done.
Everything I’d felt over the last four years of my life came together in that moment and filled me with so much hurt that I thought I’d fall to the floor and curl up in the fetal position. Tears slipped from my eyes against my will, and I swiped at them.
“You asshole! I bled for you!” I yelled as I pushed against his chest and tried to get away.
His cheeks flushed red in anger; his nostrils flared as he breathed out hard. Then he was in my face, staring down at me with red-hot eyes. All signs of the heated moment we’d just had in the bathroom were gone.
I gasped when his fingers dug hard into my arms and he tugged me closer to him. His nails burrowed into my skin as he held me close. He was all heat and fury, wrapped around me, scorching my skin in the all the places that we touched. I couldn’t decide if I should run like I did before or stay and face the consequences for my past actions. Somehow that didn’t seem fair since he still hadn’t paid for his.
I decided to stay and face him. Looking up at him, blue orbs swirled back at me, his eyes leaving no part of my face untouched. I couldn’t breathe. His hard chest was like a brick wall squeezing the oxygen from my lungs.
“You bled for me? Well, I didn’t bleed for you, Faith. I died for you. There’s a big fucking difference. You didn’t wound me; you killed me. You murdered the boy I used to be in his sleep and he’s never coming back. All that’s left of that boy is me, and all you’ll ever get from me is a quickie and a door in your face.”
He released me and the spot where his fingers were digging ached. Wrapping my arms around myself, I rubbed at the sore areas. He looked down at my arms and closed his eyes hard as if he were feeling my pain.
When he opened them, his expression had softened. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.” He reached out and ran a finger down my arm. “Even now the thought of hurting you hurts me. It’s a bad habit I can’t seem to break.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to get away from him and I had to stay away. I turned and walked away. I snatched up my keys and walked out his front door and out of his life again.
It wasn’t until I was about to climb into bed later that I realized I’d forgotten my purse.
Twenty-Six
Finn
“Fuck!” I yelled out loud as I punched a hole through my bedroom wall.
I’d fucked up a lot in my life, but having sex with Faith was by far the worse and best thing I’d done in a long time. It was amazing—beyond amazing. It was everything I’d fantasized about for the last four years of my life. And while I’d experienced a release like I hadn’t since the last time I was with her, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d just royally fucked myself.
After years of dealing with the loss of Faith in my own way, I’d taken one big step back. The only way it didn’t hurt to be without her was to hate her, and I’d definitely done the opposite of that in my bathroom. The worst part was all the emotions I’d spent the last four years burying had resurfaced just that quickly and I didn’t know what to do with them. After going so long not feeling, it was scary to feel again. The way I saw it was emotion was a bad thing and Faith brought out entirely too many damn emotions.