Page 82 of Broken Warrior
“It’s my fucking fault. If I hadn’t needed toget betterin the first place, hadn’t been so goddamn fucked up and stupid, you never would have been in that situation. I could have—”
“You are infuriating,” I groan, completely exasperated with this man. “Stop trying to take the weight of the world on your gigantic shoulders, Fin. Our problems existed well before we ever met and they weren’t going to miraculously solve themselves the minute we did. That’s not how life works so quit blaming yourself for things that are out of your control!”
Fin leans down and looks me dead in the eye. “I should have been there. I should have been there to protect you. I should have known about that shit so I could protect you.”
“Oh my god!” I shove at his chest and try to turn away but Fin grabs my wrists. “Nothing that has happened to me is your fault.Nothing.And thinking that you could have changed any of it is just—”
“Stupid?” he growls.
And, I’m done.
I was ready for an argument, ready for a fight over the secrets I kept, but I wasn’t ready for this.
Fin blaming himself—seemingly for far more than Rosco Shapiro showing up at work and scaring me—was unexpected to say the least, and I don’t know how to handle it. Especially when his insecurities are more obvious now than ever.
Being torn between wanting to smack some sense into Fin or hold him and love him until he loves himself makes this scenario more out of left field than the crap about Elias.
“Let me go,” I whisper, the fight leaving me.
Right up until Fin scoffs and says, “Why? Too stupid for you? Don’t want to be anywhere near some stupid addict who can’t do the one thing his big ass was created for? The shit he was trained to do from the time he could fucking walk?”
“Let. Me. Go.”
He does, but not without thinking he won, judging by the snide smirk on his face. “I don’t really blame you, Tate. I’m a piece of shit designed for so much more while somehow managing to be even less than that. I’mlowerthan a piece of shit with so much wasted talent, just a goddamn broken—”
On reflex, I lift my hand to slap him but Fin grabs my wrist and starts backing me toward the couch. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t do anything until the back of my calves hit the crushed velvet and when they do, it’s like some switch flipped and I’m not only angry but I’m feeling brave. Brave because I love Fin, idiotic behavior or not, and he may not realize it, but he’s giving me control I never had before.
He’s mad but he’s not yelling, not making himself big and scary and intimidating.
Fin’s holding my wrist but not tight, not maliciously. It’s grounding, almost calming despite wanting to slap him. He’s just keeping contact and I could break it at any given second.
And yeah, he’s backing me into a corner and looming over me, but again, it’s not for intimidation or any other negative outcome. Fin simply thinks he’s right and the minute he gets confirmation he can bolt without anything but the couch in front of the door stopping him.
But with bravery and control comes my stubborn streak and I am not about to let the man I love escape without setting him straight first.
“Don’t youeversay anything like that again.”
Fin stares at me, his jaw clenched so tight he may crack his teeth.
“I mean it. If I ever hearyour mother’swordscome out of your mouthever again,I’ll… I’ll…” My chest is heaving as I look into those ice blue eyes, something strange flickering in them that almost looks like guilt or remorse. “I will…”
“You’ll what,m’eudail?” he whispers.
“I…”Should I be so turned on right now?This is completely uncharted territory for me, but I am. I’m angry, I’m confused, I want to throttle my boyfriend for about a hundred different reasons and I want to apologize for being secretive—all things I understand without question. But feeling turned on, being way too aroused by this confrontation with Fin while still feeling all of those other things? I have no idea what to do with that.
“Right.” He lets go of my wrist and straightens up. “Clarity hits at odd times, doesn’t it,m’eudail? Think things are gonna go one way but end up another.” Fin doesn’t move but he breaks eye contact. “I’m sorry, Tate. Sorry for a lot of things, but mostly for putting you in this situation and being too broken—”
“Just shut up and kiss me, Finlay,” I say seconds before I grab the front of his t-shirt and yank him toward me.
The surprised look he gives me is kind of adorable, but saying it was enough to get him to do exactly what I wanted. It threw him off and stopped him from saying goodbye or leaving. Granted, yanking him toward me threw off his balance some so I was able to use that to my advantage, but it worked. Taking the initiative and going with my gut—or my very needy vagina, as it were—was exactly what I needed to get my big, angry boyfriend to shut up, stop convincing me he's a horrible human and trying to leave, and kiss me.
Thank god he kissed me.
Anger and shock aside, it’s still one hell of a kiss, too.
For a few seconds anyway, because Fin pulls back. “Tate…”
I shake my head and hold him in place. “We’re both broken, Fin. Broken and unsure, but it doesn’t make either of usless thanor unworthy. We deserve to look at ourselves the way everyone else does, the wayJames does, the way I look at you or the way you look at me.We deserve that.”
