Hearts the Last Beat (Angel Fire #6) - Ellie Masters Page 0,72

heart shudders and slams to a halt. A tear slides down my cheek.

Those are my arms. His protection and warmth are mine to embrace, not this Lucy. I thought Spike and I had the beginnings of our forever. I felt secure in his arms. I felt loved.

Now? All I feel is the stinging burn of heartbreak.

They stand so close, closer than friends, closer than family. Lucy burrows into his embrace and nuzzles deep into his chest.

A sob escapes me as she pulls away and angles her head. She looks up at him, seeking Spike’s vibrant gaze, then ever so slowly, she lifts on tiptoe. Her hands go to his cheeks as tears roll down mine. Her lips press against his as a sob rips from my throat.

The kiss is short, fleeting, but devastating in the destruction it leaves behind. Spike breaks apart, then squats down to rub the dog. He stares at her swollen belly; says something I can’t hear.

With my vision blurred by tears, he leans forward and kisses her pregnant belly. No expert in pregnancy, the woman looks ready to pop out the kid any moment.

Maybe that’s why Spike broke off our plans to come down here? Is that his kid in there?

My brain wants to dissect their familiarity, her pregnancy, the timing of it all, but I refuse to head down that path.

Spike stands. He ropes his arm around Lucy and draws her in toward his chest again. A huge smile fills his face; tucking her head beneath his jaw, he caresses her hair. His fingers glide down her raven locks in strong, powerful strokes. Each touch ripping and shredding what’s left of my heart.

I know that touch. I’ve felt the intimacy of it as he’s comforted me, as the steady beating of his heart lulled me into believing in a future together. A cry escapes my lips, joining the soul-shattering sobs.

Agony like nothing I’ve felt before tears through me, searing my skin, shattering my heart, and wrenching horrible sounds from my throat. I hold a hand over my throat, trying to silence my weakness. I rub the back of my hand over my mouth, desperate to silence the blubbering emotions leaking out all over the place. I hate everything about this and despise my weakness.

I’d been such a fool. I try to tamp down my shameful reactions, but damn if my emotions don’t run rampant. Logic flees as my heart attacks with everything it has left. The onslaught drowns me, steals my breath, and destroys me.

Everything hurts; his betrayal is a relentless force carving a path of destruction through my entire being. I can’t catch my breath as deep, powerful sobs rip through me. I grip the steering wheel, needing something solid to hang on to, and struggle to pull myself together.

With my insides bleeding, my vision tunnels to black. Agony sweeps through me, but then it morphs into blinding rage. He can’t do this to me. I’m not some chick on the side. A fling to pass the time.

Was every touch and intimate whisper nothing more than a game to him? A way to get me into his bed? Did he feel none of the beautiful harmony I felt when we were together?

Looks like I’m just some stupid girl with a crush on a rock star, who let herself get used to satisfy his carnal appetite for sex. But I don’t get it. Spike can fuck whoever he wants. It’s not like there aren’t a million willing women out there dying for a piece of him.

Why pretend with me? He told me what we shared meant the world to him. That knowing I was his meant the world to him

How gullible could I be?

Enough to believe his lies.

Everything hurts as I watch him with that woman. My eyes sting from the tears. My throat aches from my wretched sobs. My heart… Seeing him with another woman hurts far more than I thought it could. My heart crumbles.

There was always a part inside of me that wondered what Spike was doing with me. I suppose I was easy and he was lazy. With me around, he didn’t have to look outside the walls of Insanity to get laid.

Doesn’t change a thing, however, and that’s the worst part of all of this. I want all his kisses to myself. His affection and love are mine. No one else’s. I want his laughter and his openness to be mine and mine alone. He’s the first man I’ve known