Page 68 of Faithless Vows
“You’re hurting me.”
I know I am. I hate that I am. But not enough to let her go. Nothing is enough to stop me now. I keep her tight against me and head for the gangway.
The runner at the bottom straightens when he sees me coming, confusion flashing across his face before caution wipes it clean. His eyes flick to Alannah and then back to me. “Mr. Byrne.”
“We’re getting on.”
He hesitates. “Now,” I growl. He flinches and stumbles back, clearing the way.
I start to pull Alannah up the gangway, but she digs her heels in so hard I nearly lose hold of her. “No. No, please don’t do this.”
Men nearby stop what they’re doing and turn to watch. Any more of this and we’ll have a crowd. I lock both arms around her middle, lift her off her feet, and carry her the rest of the way up the gangway. Below deck, one of the crew points us toward a cabin, and I head straight for it.
Inside, it’s cramped, with a narrow bunk bolted to one wall, a small table, and a single porthole. The air smells of damp wood and old smoke. I kick the door shut behind us and set her on her feet.
She pulls free and stumbles back until the bunk catches behind her knees. “Don’t come near me!” Her voice is loud, sharp, edged with panic.
I start toward her anyway, hoping that if I can just get her to listen, I can calm her down. She recoils, nearly falling back onto the bunk, both hands flying up to shield herself. I stop. “Alannah…” My voice comes out rough, almost pleading. “Just listen to me.”
“No.” Her voice shakes, but there’s nothing weak in it. “You hit Finn. You dragged me here. You forced me onto a bloody boat. I’m done listening to you.”
I drag a hand over my face and bite back a hiss when my fingers brush the swollen bridge of my nose. “I know I fucked it.”
Her laugh is small and awful. “You think?”
“I know I did,” I snap, then force myself back down because shouting at her now would be insanity, even for me. “I know. All right? I know.”
She’s still looking at me like I’m something she can’t even recognize. Like I’m a stranger. Like I’ve lost my mind.Maybe I have.“I came all this way for you,” I say. “I crossed a fucking ocean for you.”
“And then what?” she fires back. “You got me in front of you again and accused me of looking for my next husband.”
I can’t defend it. I don’t even try. “I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do.”
“No. You don’t, Ronin.” She wraps her arms around herself. “Because if you did, you never would’ve said that to me. You said it because you wanted to hurt me.”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” I say, and my voice sounds wrecked even to my own ears. “With any of it. You standing there in your wedding dress, crying. The truth of what I’d done. Kathleen. Danny hearing it. Your grandfather. Everything.” I swallow hard. “That’s not an excuse. I know it’s not. I’m just telling you I didn’t know what to do with any of it, and every time I opened my mouth, I made it worse.”
Tears spill down her face again, and she wipes at them angrily.
“I’m sorry.” It’s all I have left.
“You don’t get to say that like it fixes anything.”
“I know it doesn’t fix it.”
“Then stop saying it.”
I let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” I say again anyway, because even if she doesn’t want to hear it, she deserves to. “I know you don’t want it from me. I know I don’t deserve to ask you to believe it. But I am.”
Heavy footsteps and muffled voices carry from the deck above. Alannah looks toward the door. “Please,” she says, her eyes still fixed on it. “Please just let me go.”
I know I should let her go. I know it. This wasn’t the plan. I came to bring her home, not drag her back against her will. What the hell am I supposed to do when we reach Boston? Lock her in the house until she stops fighting me?That should be enough to make me step aside. It isn’t. When she moves to pass me, I catch her by the arms.
“Ronin—no—”
