With a little shiver, she wrapped her arms tight around her torso. For warmth? Or comfort? Either way, it was killing me to not take her in my arms and hold her until she wasn't cold, or upset, or afraid of anything, including me.
But instead, I held my breath and waited, desperate for some sign that it wasn't over, and praying that she'd take me up on my offer – because then, at least, we might have a chance.
As I watched, something in her eyes softened, giving me the barest glimpse of the girl I loved. I felt a shred of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance after all.
But then her gaze hardened, and she said, "Alright, here's the deal. You–" She pointed to my chest "–need to stay the hell away from me. Stay away from where I work. Stay away from where I'm living. And stay away from anywhere else you think I might be."
Her words, no matter how justified, sliced through me. "Chloe–"
"You already said that."
"Please." I was drowning in despair, and from the look in her eyes, so was she. I hated to see her hurting. I wanted to comfort her. Hell, I wanted to comfort both of us. Slowly, I moved toward her.
Her gaze narrowed. "I mean it."
It took all my control, but I managed to stop. My muscles were tight, and my heart was racing. "Chloe, please. Hit me. Yell at me. Do something." My voice caught. "Anything but this."
She stared at me for a long moment, and just when I thought I'd broken through, she said, "You heard me," and turned away.
I could hardly speak. "Chloe. Wait. Please."
She turned back. "For what?"
"I know what you're thinking."
She crossed her arms. "I seriously doubt that."
"I can see it all over your face." And I could. She didn't believe a word I was saying. She didn't know – shecouldn'tknow – that I'd do anything to win her back, that nothing in my whole world meant anything compared to her. I met her gaze. "You're thinking talk is cheap."
"So?"
"So you don't want someone to beat my ass? I get that. But you want me to pay, am I right?"
She shrugged.
"Believe me, Chloe. Iwantto pay."
She looked insulted. "I don't want your money."
"I know." And I did. Chloe didn't need money. She obviously had plenty of her own. What she really needed was to see me pay, to see me lose something that wasn't replaceable. Fortunately, such a thing was here, within arm's reach.
Chloe was shaking her head. "You don't know anything."
But I did know, and I was ready to prove it. "I know you want something else."
"Oh yeah?" she said. "What's that?"
"This." I shifted my grip on the tire iron. I took one long stride toward my car – the one that I'd restored with my own two hands, the one that couldn't be replaced by writing a check, the one that I'd poured so much of myself into, transforming it from a battered heap into a turbo-charged thing of beauty.
And now, I had to destroy it.
For Chloe.
Chapter 6
I lifted the tire iron and bashed it against the windshield, leaving a huge spider-webbed crack on the formerly smooth glass.
Chloe's voice rang out behind me. "What the hell are you doing?"
