“I’m so sorry. I never meant . . .” . . . to put you in the middle of this. He found his sweatpants on the floor and pulled them on.
“You never meant what?” she asked, her voice tinged with rising anger.
His dick pulsed—the traitor wanted another round with this sweet angel. But that would never happen. Because he loved Belle, and that meant the best thing to do would be to let her go. She’d be safer without him in her life.
“This. I never meant for it to get this far.” I never meant to fall in love with you too. He stood, searching in the darkness for his shirt. Thunder rumbled in the distance as the rain began to die down.
She let out a choked sound. “Are you pushing me away again? I got too close and now you’re running scared like you have every other time?”
“No!”
“Bently?”
“You need to leave. Right now.” So you’ll be safe.
The lights flicked back on, and the look in her eyes shattered what was left of his damaged heart. Anger, pain, and finally resolve. She stood, every inch of her naked glory tense and rigid. She reached for her clothes.
His heart ached. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her until the morning. He wanted to take it all back and wipe that agonized look off her face. But instead he stood motionless as she held her chin high and got dressed like the warrior she was.
She gazed back at him, opening her mouth and then snapping it shut. She shook her head. He was the biggest asshole.
You’re nothing but a failure. You ruin everything you touch. You’re weak. His father’s voice played in his mind. He’d been right after all. But not anymore. He’d do the right thing and keep the woman he loved away from him so she’d be safe.
Belle turned to leave, and he followed her downstairs in torturous silence. She unlocked the deadbolt and stopped, turning to face him with watery eyes. His heart lurched.
“If I walk out this door, whatever this was between us is over. I won’t be treated this way again. So you need to think really hard if that’s what you truly want, or if this is just your trauma talking.”
She staggered him. Couldn’t he just . . . The message written in blood and the dead pig flashed in his mind. He hadn’t told her about the picture they’d found in his truck.
He shook his head. She wasn’t safe.
“I don’t want you to come back.” The lie burned his throat.
She blinked, those dark eyes flinching. If he told her why, she’d only try to stick by him. He couldn’t have her hurt because of him, or worse.
“I trusted you. Guess I should have followed my first instincts after all.” She turned and ran out the door through the sprinkles of rain. Heartbreak and grief weighed heavily on the wet air.
As soon as she was behind the wheel, he grabbed his gun and keys and slipped from the house. He tailed her from a distance, following her home. She had to be safe. Her car pulled into the drive. He texted TJ from a few houses down the street.
Bently: Make sure your doors and windows stay locked.
TJ: Why?
Bently: Keep her safe.
Because I can’t.
He sat in his police truck as the rain dripped over the window. His personal vehicle was still being searched for any traces of the stalker. They’d gotten lucky with a fingerprint, but it wasn’t in the system. Unknown. So now, he’d wait here in the shadows until morning.
He picked up his phone to call Vargas. Maybe she could trail Belle to work. But then what? He couldn’t find someone to watch her at every moment of every day. All it would take was one lapse in concentration, one opportunity, and she could be hurt. Or worse.
His chest squeezed. His lungs constricted. He gasped. Oxygen, damn it! Where had it gone? Each damaged beat of his ragged heart shot vicious pain spiraling through him. He slapped his hand across his chest and bowed over.
I’m having a heart attack.
He sucked in air, squeezing his eyes closed as everything came crashing down on him. The weight of pain and guilt he’d carried for so long became more than he could bear.
No, this is a panic attack.
He forced himself back to sitting and started to count, slowing his breaths. Each shaky inhale was like filling his lungs with shards of glass. In and out. Over and over until the tightness in his chest relaxed. But his heart still ached like a herd of wild horses had just trampled over it. Or maybe, whatever was left of it had been ripped to shreds the moment he let her walk out that door for good.
But it was too late now. He’d have to live with this loss.
Chapter 35
Belle
Belle’s secret places no longer ached. His scent no longer invaded her bedroom. Two less reminders that Bently had been inside her less than two weeks ago. But her heart felt like someone had cut it into ribbons and left her to die from the internal bleeding. The hot water sloshed over her tired body. Her eyes felt like sandpaper. Why was she still crying over this man?
Because you fell in love with him and he ripped your heart out.
He’d made love to her, connected with her emotionally in a way she hadn’t known was possible. Bently had given her the best sexual experience of her life and then pushed her aside so cruelly. It felt as though he’d left her alone in an ocean, no longer helping her tread water. Nothing was left but the lead weights of her fears to drag her into the darkness. She’d given him everything, all that she had left, and he’d kicked her out as soon as it was over. Her stomach revolted
