Pretending (Westshore Series #1)

Chapter Fifty-One: It's Not Your Fault

I don't flinch this time

Warner's head dips toward mine, his eyes not losing an ounce of that dark emotion that swims behind them and he kisses my jaw with a tenderness he did not have a few seconds ago.

I am scared that he still plans on leaving this room to murder someone. But instead of saying or doing anything, he dips his mouth to mine in a press of a gentle kiss. A lingering kiss that makes me forget how much my head hurts because it makes everything else feel better.

It was right then that I notice his hand is shaking— trembling. He kisses me once more right next to my eye, careful not to hurt me.

Warner takes his time getting to his feet, his movement is steady and level but there is something off about him.

"Where are you going?" I ask, scanning his face. The look in his eyes isn't right. It is savage and unruly, and it makes my heart clench even harder.

"I'm going to go take care of this," he says, eyes flashing up to the ceiling.

Oh crap. Panic nudges at me. Worry over what in the world this man is going to do if he leaves. In this split second, I couldn't care less about what happened back at the parking lot. Not if Warner is going to go do something stupid and risk his own future for revenge, "Warner." I shift up in the bed, ignoring the shooting pain in my ribs.

"Babe," he growls. "I need you to feel better. Lay back down."

I reach out and grab his hand, threading my fingers through his in a tight squeeze. "Please don't do anything." I tug on his hand. "It's fine. I'm alive and they are in jail. We can get back at them, but we can do it without killing anyone. You aren't risking your entire future just to get revenge."

He won't look at me, and I know he is struggling to keep his cool.

"I'm serious Warner, I won't forgive you if you leave and do something to them." I make sure to state it. Demand it. His Adam's apple bobs with hard swallows, and his muscles tighten and loosen twice.

Still nothing.

"Warner, please," I beg him. "Please. You can't get in trouble with the police..." A sob is lodged deep in my chest. "Don't go." My heart is going to shatter. It was getting sliced by what-ifs.

He grinds his teeth together, a vein in his neck bulging. "Don't ask me to do nothing, Jules." His neck tips up in barely controlled anger. "You want me to sit back and let them get away with this shit? With what they did to you? What they made me watch?"

"Warner—"

"Look what they did to you!" he snaps. His eyes flash brightly. "They hurt you. They put their hands on you. They made me watch while they—" he pauses, finding it hard to get the words out. "I can't sit here and look at you with a clear conscience. You flinched at my touch. I can't forget that."

Oh my God. My heart does a dumb pitter-patter-clench thing in reaction to his words, to his conviction, his loyalty... everything. I really was in love with this man. It was horrifying and amazing at the same time. I squeeze my fingers around his. "This wasn't your fault, Warner."

He scrunches his eyes together, blowing out a breath that makes his lips flutter. Ticking his neck from side to side, he rolls his shoulders. "You are my responsibility. You are mine. And I won't stay here like some coward. I think I'd do anything for you, believe me. But I won't do this." He presses his lips to my forehead, his breath hot. "I have to do this."

I could have let him go. I could have just sat back and let him seek vengeance on my behalf, but I wouldn't. Not today, not the next or any month or year after that. Because the situation wasn't worth the possibility of losing him, he had a bright future ahead of him. He had scouts watching him play, he just got Tracey away from his dad. I would not let him risk jail time for me and I wasn't above playing dirty. Saying what I needed to. Doing what I needed to. I needed him to stay.