Alarmed by the outburst, I slapped my rump back on the couch.
After taking a moment to control my shuddery breaths, I nodded. “Well...at least now I know why you have continued to push me away, and I don’t blame you at all. You never would’ve had to go through any of that if you’d never gotten mixed up with me. I would hate me right now if I were you, too.”
“How many times do I have to tell you,” he growled from between clenched teeth, “I never hated you. I never blamed you. If anything, it was the memory of you that helped me survive the worst times.”
My heart sang as I pressed my hands against the swelling hope in my chest. “Well, you don’t need a memory anymore, Knox. I’m here, in the flesh, and I’m more than willing to keep helping you through this.”
But he shook his head. “No way. My head is too fucked up. I don’t want you to have to—”
“I don’t care what’s in your head, damn it.” My voice rose with my frustration. “We have the rest of our lives to deal with that. It’s what’s in your heart that concerns me. And I know you still have feelings for me. Why do you keep fighting that?”
“Because it’s what’s in my fists that concerns me,” he roared, raising his balled hands to show me how his knuckles had cracked open and bled after hitting the wall. “Just one swing of these things, City, and I could kill you.”
I rose to my feet, and something in my calm, self-assured expression made uncertainty flicker in his eyes. He lurched to his feet as well.
With my first step forward, he took one in reverse. “What’re you doing?”
I shook my head, not even sure myself. “You’re not swinging your fists now,” I said.
He skidded backward some more, lifting his hands to ward me off. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he snapped, desperation making his brown eyes wild and glassy.
His intimidation tactic worked. I jerked to a stop, sucking in a surprised breath. Then I let out a growl at my own stupidity because I knew—I knew—he wouldn’t have hurt me if I’d ignored his request, if I’d just reached out and smoothed my fingers over his cheek.
It felt as if I was in the worst predicament of my life, and I’d just lost my one chance to do the right thing. Now I had no idea what to do. I was torn between wringing his neck for being so stubborn and hugging the hell out of him because he’d gone through hell. Except I’d blown my opportunity to touch him.
So I just stood there like an idiot and started to cry again.