The Scarlet Deep
Page 33
“—when I don’t know if it can ever lead to more than sex. I’m not built that way. I can’t separate. I’ve tried. It doesn’t work for me the same way it does for you.”
He finally pulled away. “Was wondering how long it would take you to bring up the other women.”
“I’m not harping.” Her face felt like a mask lay over it. “I’m not blaming you. I’m simply stating a fact.”
“Then I want to state a fact.”
“Fine.”
He scooted away from her, leaning his back against the end of the wood-paneled trailer. “We’re not friends.”
“No, we’re not friends.”
“And we never will be.”
Her heart broke open a little more, and she pulled the sheet to cover herself. “I know that.”
“What do you want from me? An apology? You want me to grovel for not turning into a monk because you left me?”
“No, I don’t expect an apology.”
Of course she wanted him to grovel, though she’d never admit it. She knew it wasn’t fair to him. She’d tried to move on as well. She squashed the petty, jealous part of her heart and remained calm.
“Then what do you want?”
“Did you intend to apologize when you came to Galway all those years ago?”
He blinked. “You’re bringing that up after seventy years?”
“No, you brought it up when you accosted me at the pub. You said as far as you were concerned, we never finished our last argument. So I’m asking about it. Did you intend to apologize?”
A muscle in his jaw jumped. “Yes.”
Yes.
A single word. A single answer that could have changed everything. Anne forced herself to remain calm.
“But you didn’t, Patrick. You threw all your conquests in my face and told me it was my fault that you’d fucked them. That you hated me.”
“I didn’t…” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t hate you.”
“You said you did.”
He scrubbed both hands over his face and took a deep breath. “I said a lot of things then. I didn’t mean them.”
“Then why did you say them?”
“Because you drove me mad!” He tore at his hair. “You stood there, so calm. Not a spot of care on your face. Like I was nothing to you.”
Still schooling her features, she asked, “How could you think that?”
“You had so many walls, Anne. You let me in, but never completely.”
Anne felt it like a physical blow.
“I told you everything,” he continued. “Every twisted story. Every dirty secret. And there were times when it was as if I didn’t know you. Who were you as a human? Why did your father turn you? When did you decide to become a healer? I don’t even know your mother’s name, just that you still mourn her.”
“I don’t like to talk about my past,” she said. “I never have. I barely talk to Mary—”
“But I’m not your sister. I’m your mate.”
“You never told me this bothered you,” she said, her anger piqued. “Of all the arguments we had, not once did you bring it up.”
“Of course I didn’t. I hated that you had so much power over me. And you were a sphinx.”
“It wasn’t intentional.”
“Of course it wasn’t.” He took a calming breath and sat up straighter. “And then I fucked up. Is that what you want to hear?” He bent down, inches from her face. “I fucked up. I was wrong. I let ambition get the best of me. I never should have asked you to use your ability like that. I broke your trust. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
She felt small and mean in the face of his brutal honesty. “Yes.”
“There.” He sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it. I fucked up. But you did too.”
She sat up, still clutching the sheet to her body. “How is this my fault?”
“Because you left!”
“You let me.”
He said nothing. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his lip where he’d broken the skin. Before her eyes, it healed.
“You…” She struggled to speak. “You came into my life and you took it over. You took everything, Patrick.”
“I loved you. I would have given you anything. You were my world.”
“And I loved you too. But it consumed me. You were in every moment. Every thought. I loved you to madness. If I put up subconscious walls, it was probably because I feared losing myself in you. You were… so passionate. So charismatic. The universe whirled around Patrick Murphy, and I was in your orbit. We all were. You wanted your sire dead for turning you against your will, and within five years, he was gone and you took everything he owned. No one. Said. Anything. You wanted Dublin; you took it.”
“Anne—”
“You didn’t win. You conquered. We were all along for the ride. And then you asked me…”
His proud face was stricken. “I didn’t think then. Didn’t think what danger that could put you in. I was young. I didn’t know—”
“My father was going to kill you,” she said quietly. “When he discovered I told you, he was going to kill you. I begged… Mary did too. We begged for your life.”
He blinked. “Mary did?”
“And then months later, you did exactly what Father had warned me about.”
He finally pulled away. “Was wondering how long it would take you to bring up the other women.”
“I’m not harping.” Her face felt like a mask lay over it. “I’m not blaming you. I’m simply stating a fact.”
“Then I want to state a fact.”
“Fine.”
He scooted away from her, leaning his back against the end of the wood-paneled trailer. “We’re not friends.”
“No, we’re not friends.”
“And we never will be.”
Her heart broke open a little more, and she pulled the sheet to cover herself. “I know that.”
“What do you want from me? An apology? You want me to grovel for not turning into a monk because you left me?”
“No, I don’t expect an apology.”
Of course she wanted him to grovel, though she’d never admit it. She knew it wasn’t fair to him. She’d tried to move on as well. She squashed the petty, jealous part of her heart and remained calm.
“Then what do you want?”
“Did you intend to apologize when you came to Galway all those years ago?”
He blinked. “You’re bringing that up after seventy years?”
“No, you brought it up when you accosted me at the pub. You said as far as you were concerned, we never finished our last argument. So I’m asking about it. Did you intend to apologize?”
A muscle in his jaw jumped. “Yes.”
Yes.
A single word. A single answer that could have changed everything. Anne forced herself to remain calm.
“But you didn’t, Patrick. You threw all your conquests in my face and told me it was my fault that you’d fucked them. That you hated me.”
“I didn’t…” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t hate you.”
“You said you did.”
He scrubbed both hands over his face and took a deep breath. “I said a lot of things then. I didn’t mean them.”
“Then why did you say them?”
“Because you drove me mad!” He tore at his hair. “You stood there, so calm. Not a spot of care on your face. Like I was nothing to you.”
Still schooling her features, she asked, “How could you think that?”
“You had so many walls, Anne. You let me in, but never completely.”
Anne felt it like a physical blow.
“I told you everything,” he continued. “Every twisted story. Every dirty secret. And there were times when it was as if I didn’t know you. Who were you as a human? Why did your father turn you? When did you decide to become a healer? I don’t even know your mother’s name, just that you still mourn her.”
“I don’t like to talk about my past,” she said. “I never have. I barely talk to Mary—”
“But I’m not your sister. I’m your mate.”
“You never told me this bothered you,” she said, her anger piqued. “Of all the arguments we had, not once did you bring it up.”
“Of course I didn’t. I hated that you had so much power over me. And you were a sphinx.”
“It wasn’t intentional.”
“Of course it wasn’t.” He took a calming breath and sat up straighter. “And then I fucked up. Is that what you want to hear?” He bent down, inches from her face. “I fucked up. I was wrong. I let ambition get the best of me. I never should have asked you to use your ability like that. I broke your trust. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
She felt small and mean in the face of his brutal honesty. “Yes.”
“There.” He sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it. I fucked up. But you did too.”
She sat up, still clutching the sheet to her body. “How is this my fault?”
“Because you left!”
“You let me.”
He said nothing. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his lip where he’d broken the skin. Before her eyes, it healed.
“You…” She struggled to speak. “You came into my life and you took it over. You took everything, Patrick.”
“I loved you. I would have given you anything. You were my world.”
“And I loved you too. But it consumed me. You were in every moment. Every thought. I loved you to madness. If I put up subconscious walls, it was probably because I feared losing myself in you. You were… so passionate. So charismatic. The universe whirled around Patrick Murphy, and I was in your orbit. We all were. You wanted your sire dead for turning you against your will, and within five years, he was gone and you took everything he owned. No one. Said. Anything. You wanted Dublin; you took it.”
“Anne—”
“You didn’t win. You conquered. We were all along for the ride. And then you asked me…”
His proud face was stricken. “I didn’t think then. Didn’t think what danger that could put you in. I was young. I didn’t know—”
“My father was going to kill you,” she said quietly. “When he discovered I told you, he was going to kill you. I begged… Mary did too. We begged for your life.”
He blinked. “Mary did?”
“And then months later, you did exactly what Father had warned me about.”
