Page 42 of Enter if you Dare: Part Two

“That isn’t true.”

I sigh. “Yes, it is.” He looks at me, and I feel the excuses coming before he even opens his mouth. “Every apology, every promise, lasts only until you want something.”

He runs his hand through his hair and has the nerve to look sad. “You don’t know what addiction is like.”

“No, maybe I don’t,” I say, leaning back in my seat, suddenly exhausted. “But I know what loving an addict is like.” The anger drains from me, only leaving hurt behind. “I know what it’s like to spend every day wondering whether the next call I get will tell me you’re dead. I know what it is to hate you and to hate myself for hating you. And I know what it is to wish you would disappear and then panic when you finally do.”

His eyes glisten with tears. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Well, you did. You broke me more than our parents dying.”

“I’m sick,” he says, and I can’t disagree.

“And I’m tired of living like this.”

It’s the truth; I am tired. Tired of saving him, tired of his excuses, tired of letting the memory of who he used to be outweigh the person he is now.

Rowan wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “You’re supposed to help me.”

“I did.”

He shakes his head; my words clearly only affected him for a second. “Then help me now.”

“I am.”

He looks at me, and I no longer see who he was—I only see the man sitting in front of me.

“How, by dumping me at a gas station?” Rowan snorts in disbelief.

“By giving you one last chance to live your life without letting you destroy mine.”

His laugh is bitter. “So that’s it. You have new people now and I don’t matter.”

“This isn’t about them.”

“It is.” He gestures toward the road behind us. “You think those men love you? They lied to you. They kidnapped me and kept me locked up, yet you’re still defending them.”

I run my hand over my face. “I’m not defending them lying to me.”

He laughs. “You’re going back to them.”

It’s not a question, it’s a statement, and I nod.

“Yes.” I was always going back to them.

Rowan studies me, trying to find something he can use. When he doesn’t find whatever he is looking for, I see him transform into the man I now know.

“Pathetic. You have known them for what, not even two months?”

I shrug.

“They will get bored and hurt you.”

I shrug again. “Maybe.”

“Then don’t come running to me when it all blows up in your face.”

A laugh catches in my throat—he’s delusional. “I stopped running to you a long time ago. I have been running after you.”