Vicious Cycle

Pushing myself forward, I hurried up the stairs, anxious to put as much distance as I could between me and the kitchen. When I got to my bedroom, I went straight for the bathroom. The moment I turned on the water, the tears pooled in my eyes like I had turned them on as well. After stripping out of my clothes, I slipped into the shower. Standing under the spray, I let the water wash away the tears that continued to fall. I thought by now I would be devoid of any moisture, but just like my grief seemed to have no cap to its depths, neither did my tears.

When I finished, I toweled off and slid into the silky blue robe that hung behind the bathroom door. I knew there would be no way I would fall asleep on my own tonight, not even with Archer hanging around. As soon as I took my sleeping pill, I wanted to at least order him a pizza—something to compensate for having to babysit me, even if he did say it was an easy job.

Opening the medicine cabinet, I took out the pills that my therapist had first started prescribing for me after my parents were killed. Now another tragic loss, another reason to take a blue pill to escape the torment of grief through sleep.

I closed the cabinet and reached for the glass on the counter. Something caught my eye, and I glanced up into the mirror. The bottle of pills clattered onto the counter. Both my hands flew to my mouth. Without a word, I shook my head back and forth, willing myself to wake up from the dream I surely found myself in. But nothing changed.

“Babe,” a gentle voice said.

Framed in the doorway of my bathroom was Deacon.

The ability to speak had abandoned me. Instead, my body shook and trembled as I tried to come to terms with what was before me. His eyes never leaving mine, Deacon stepped into the bathroom. Taking slow steps, he closed the gap between us. When his hand came up to cup my cheek, my knees buckled. I would have sunk onto the tile if Deacon hadn’t reached out and grabbed me by the shoulders. Easing me back, he gripped my waist and hoisted me onto the counter.

Turning on the faucet, he poured me a glass of water. When he brought it to my lips, I reluctantly took a few sips. I didn’t know how simple water could possibly help at this moment. I needed a stiff drink.

“Y-you’re a-alive?” I stammered.

He nodded.

“But how? The bomb … the fire.”

Deacon ran a hand through his hair. “Walter had followed me and Case down there. Just as Case went inside the house, Walter took off into the woods after a deer. I knew he would get lost, and you and Willow would have my ass. I took two steps into the woods, and the explosion knocked me down.”

I tried processing his words. He’d never been in the house. Walter, the gift he had given me, had saved his life. For the past two days, he’d been alive, holed up somewhere, as those he loved mourned his loss.

Launching myself at him, I began to slap his face and chest while my legs kicked him as hard as I could. “Dammit, Alexandra, what the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, as he deflected some of my hits.

“What’s wrong with me? Do you have any idea what the last two days have been like for me?” When he didn’t respond, I grabbed the sides of his face and screamed, “A living hell! A hell where the man I’d loved was ripped from me and I was left to pick up the pieces!”

“I’m so sorry.”

A hysterical laugh bubbled from my lips as I teetered precariously close to losing the fragile thread of sanity I had left. “That’s all you can say is you’re sorry? Well, fuck you, and fuck your bullshit apologies.”

Shoving him aside, I hopped down from the counter and stalked into the bedroom. I got halfway to the door that led out onto the balcony when Deacon grabbed my arm and jerked me back against him. My eyelids snapped shut as I momentarily allowed myself to enjoy being in his arms again, savoring the smell of his musky scent.

When I recovered, I thrashed against him, trying to get away. “Would you just listen to me for a second? For Christ’s sake, Alexandra. I didn’t fake my own death to be an asshole. I had my reasons for not coming forward.”

“They must’ve been pretty damn good reasons to hurt your family like you did.”

Deacon winced at my words. “I needed Sigel to think I was dead. After the explosion, as I lay there in the woods, I realized I was a sitting duck. If Sigel would take down my president to draw me out, he would stop at nothing. Dying was the best way to protect my family.”

“Let me go,” I growled through clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry for hurting you, Alex. You know how I feel about you and that I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.”

I had to get away from him. If I kept listening to him, my resolve would fade, and I would accept his apology. I would understand his reasoning. And I couldn’t do that. If there was anything the last two days had taught me, it was that being involved with Deacon and his world was a hazard to my safety and sanity.

To escape him, I went with a literal knee-jerk reaction to his balls. As he groaned in pain, I pried myself out of his arms. Knowing I needed help, I threw open the balcony door. An ominous boom of thunder met me as I stepped outside. How fitting that a real storm was brewing as I found myself in my own emotional one. Leaning against the railing, I gazed down on the yard. The trees and bushes were so thick around the balcony, along with it being so dark, that it was hard to see.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Glancing at Deacon over my shoulder, I replied, “Archer’s somewhere outside. I’m going to scream until he comes, so he can throw you out!”

“I told Archer to hang back and give us some privacy for the night. Then I’ll go back to the compound tomorrow and explain everything to my family. I want you to come with me.”

I shook my head. “After what I’ve been through, I’m not going anywhere with you. Not now, not ever again.”

Deacon’s dark eyes narrowed at me. “I’m willing to overlook that little stunt you just pulled because of how hurt you are. But hear me when I say this. Quit fucking playing, Alex.”

“I can assure you that I’m not playing. I’ve not been playing for the last two days as I wept over you and what we had lost. I won’t put myself through that ever again. I may love you, but I’ve got to love myself and my sanity more.”

Jagged bolts of lightning sliced across the night sky, illuminating Deacon’s face in the dark. He wore an expression of pure rage, but something else also flashed in his eyes.

Lust.

Shrinking back against the railing, I tried to come up with the best means of escaping him. But before I could try to run, he jerked me against him. “You’re not going anywhere, Alex, so get that fucking look out of your eyes.”