Fighting Fate (Fighting #7) - JB Salsbury Page 0,117

do that!” Her eyes glisten with tears.

I want to touch her, to pull her to me and hold her tight until she understands, but I can tell by her rigid stance that’s not what she wants. “Axelle Rose Daniels.” I take a step closer, pleading with her to hear me. “I love you.”

“Stop saying that.” She shrinks back and her lip trembles. “Stop saying you love me when you’re leaving for London next week.”

My pulse speeds, but my blood feels like mud in my veins. “How would you know that? No one’s supposed to know—”

“Cam said—”

“I’m not sure if I’m leaving.”

She blinks up at me. “So, you’re staying? In Vegas?”

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“I thought I’ve been making this clear. It depends on you. If you’ll give us a shot, I’m staying to take it. But if this is all we have left, me holding on while you’re kicking me off, Ax…” I shake my head, unable to complete the thought let alone say the words. “I’ll fight for us, but I’ll need you to fight too.”

“You love the damsel in distress. I’m not her anymore.”

“I love you.”

She huffs. “I’ll drive you crazy with all the reasons why we won’t work out. I’ll push and push, and one day I’ll push you past your limit. You’ll walk away from me, Killian. I know you will.”

I reach to pull her in my arms, to prove to her with my body what I’m trying to communicate with my words, but she shrugs me off and pushes past me.

“Axelle, I won’t.” I make the X across my heart. “I promise.”

She smiles sadly. “Promises don’t mean anything. They’re just words. You’ll walk away eventually. They all do.”

And with that last parting jab, she’s gone.

I guess that’s her answer.

Thirty-four

Axelle

“Are you sure you don’t want to be here?” My mom’s voice sounds in my ear, intensifying my guilt. “If you hurry, you’ll make it in time to catch the announcement.”

“I’m sure. I have a feeling after our talk yesterday he wants nothing to do with me, and I can’t be there when he announces he’s leaving.” It’ll destroy me.

Not that I’d blame him though.

I’d acted like an immature idiot yesterday after we had sex. I ended up stomping straight to my car and calling Vanessa, asking her to cancel my last two appointments, claiming I was sick.

Which was true.

I felt like crap after the way I’d treated Killian.

From the moment we met, he’s been my biggest defender, my protector, and after all he’s done for me, I put him in the same category as men like Stewart, Trip, and Clifford.

If he doesn’t hate me, he should.

I hate myself enough for the both of us.

I half expected him to call or text last night, but he never did. I finally ended up texting him at midnight, apologizing, begging his forgiveness, and asking him to give me another chance. My finger hovered over the Send button when I remembered something he’d said after we’d had sex, as he so callously put it.

I never should’ve listened to you when you told me to go.

If he’d stayed, he wouldn’t be “Quick Kill” McCreery, whose face is gracing the covers of magazines, websites, and every sports network from here to the UK. So do I love him enough to follow through and do what I know is best for him? Or do I hit “send” and allow the one person who’s managed to fill the emptiness every man has ever left behind walk away from his dreams.

For years, he loved me and protected me so I could spread my wings and find my way. I owe him no less. He deserves to be successful, and I’ll have to be content to watch it from afar with the knowledge that for a brief moment in time I had it all. I had his love, his devotion, his time. I owned his heart.

It was on this thought that I didn’t hit “send.”

“So if you’re not coming to the press conference, what will you do?” There’s fear in my mom’s voice, probably from years of watching me drown my problems in booze and random guys.

“I’ll walk around The Miracle Mile shops. Probably grab a bite to eat. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll always worry about you.” She sighs. “But especially on…this day.”

I’m grateful she doesn’t say the dreaded V-word. “I’m good. I promise.” My own words flash through my head. A promise is just a word; it doesn’t mean anything. True in this case, because I’m far

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