“As he should be,” I suggest, beating Palmer to it.
“That much I can agree with.” Breaker shrugs. “Delaney’s in the waiting room. They won’t let her back, her not being family and all. I promised her I’d let you know she was here. She doesn’t know what happened, but I figured you’d make that decision.” His head dips low, his mood contrite. The ramifications of our actions don’t end in this room.
“How’d you manage to sneak past them, then?” Palmer asks, glancing at the door. “You didn’t kill my nurse, did you?”
“Too public.” He shrugs playfully, winking at Palmer.
I groan, irritated with his blasé attitude. “Come on, man. It’s not funny.”
One thing I can say is Palmer is taking this all too well. Maybe she’s in shock or too drugged up on painkillers to realize how fucked this whole situation actually is. Come morning, we could be dealing with a completely lucid and aware Palmer. Our entire lives rest in her fragile hands.
“This thing, you two”— Breaker waves his hand between us— “I always knew you had a fucked up little soul, Palmer Weston.” He starts for the door but stops near the foot of the bed. “Will you be coming home tonight, or are you planning on staying here? I’ll hang back if you need me to.”
“That’s kind of up to her.” I gaze over, studying every feature I’ve taken for granted as she looks at Breaker.
“Actually, I’d kind of like to be alone.” Her eyes dart straight to me and then back to Breaker. The corners of his mouth turn up because she’s kicking my ass to the curb.
“Like I said before, don’t make it easy for him.” He grabs her foot, and I notice how she doesn’t retreat from his touch like she does mine. Damn.
“I’ll get Delaney back here somehow.” I smile, knowingly. There’s a hint of relief. “What? I know what my girl needs. Delaney and you don’t do alone.”
“I’m not your girl, Marek.” Sorrow and anguish pass between us. “Maybe once I was, but not now, not after everything.”
“I’ve allowed horrible things to happen to you. You won’t hear me ask for your forgiveness and grace because I don’t deserve an ounce of either of those things.” I fall to my knees and swallow the lump in my throat, afraid of losing everything. “You said Weston girls don’t break, and you’re right. Thank God for that.”
Palmer’s blue eyes hold me captive. Under the cheap lighting, they appear dull. I know the truth, though. There is nothing dull about this girl.
“If you need anything at all, Palmer, I don’t care what time it is, you call me. I’ll be here.” I stand and lean down to kiss her forehead. She zips her head to the side, protecting herself.
“I made you promise not to hurt me before”— her thumb runs along her bottom lip— “and you broke that promise.”
The cut on her throat is superficial, but it’s there for anyone to see. It’s proof of how savage I can be.
“I’ll be back in the morning, and the next, and all of the ones that follow, until you can trust me again.”
“Who said I ever trusted you?” She holds her chin high, prideful and stronger than she should be after the hell she’s passed through.
“Then I guess I have a lot of work on my hands.” I rap my knuckles on the footboard before turning and leaving the room.
Palmer isn’t looking for another promise. There is no point in giving her false words. She and I both know who I am now. I may hurt her again, but never like tonight. When it comes to love, lust, and all the shit that makes us do stupid things for another human being, pain is inevitable. But when someone is willing to pick up the pieces, to weather the fucking storm beside you, to forgive the unforgivable, you’ll know you found someone worthy of loving, someone who knows your soul better than you do yourself.
I will spend however long it takes to convince this girl I’m that person for her.
Breaker meets me at the elevator. “So, what now?”
“We go home.” I pat him on the back as the elevator doors open. “Attempt to clean up the pieces.”
A nurse with blonde hair pulled back in a low, loose ponytail steps off the car. My shoulder brushes into the bill of her baseball cap. She grabs it, shielding her face so fast, I barely see her